I Don't Make Jokes Anymore
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I Don't Make Jokes Anymore

An honest, and often hilarious, guide to working, showering and keeping a tiny human alive

Hello, Anybody Out There?

24/5/2016

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"I don't make jokes anymore," I sigh to my sister, over the phone. It is 9:00pm at night, and I've finally completed a marathon 48 hours of assessmenting. 4000 words, 2 videos and 1 website later and I'm pooped. 

Yet despite all that, I want to start a blog.

There's just one problem. I can't think of a title. And because I can not for the life of me think of a title for my blog that will probably have no readers, I'll never start one. 

​But for some reason, now, at 9:00 pm when my brain is fried and my leftover dinner is still sitting on the table from 6:30, the only thing I want to do is sit down and start. Most likely because there is no way I am cleaning those greasy dishes and I have to do something to convince my husband I am simply "too busy" to even contemplate the idea. 

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PictureThe greasy leftover dinner was yum, though. MMmmmm... stir fry ....
"Think of something witty," my sister suggests. "Think of a joke you've made in the last couple of days, and make that your title."

To which I reply (say it with me folks) "I don't make jokes anymore." 

​And so this blog is born. 

You see, I should also add that along with being a final year university student and wife extraordinaire, I am also a new mother. A very new mother. At the time of posting, I am about 4 months in, and just surfacing from the sleep deprived, shower-free and bladder filled fog that is the newborn life and I need an outlet. I need somewhere to vent, to talk and to just be ME - away from my deadlines, house chores (who I am I kidding, my husband does most of that anyway) and my beautiful, yet exhausting baby girl. 
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I need somewhere to discuss how NOBODY tells you that you will be more sleep deprived then you've ever been in your life (studying for finals has nothing on a baby waking every 20 minutes because her dummy has fallen out, let me tell you); that your hormones go through the roof life PMS on steroids and that you'll become an expert on the varying shade of poo.

I want to build an online community where I can tell other mums out there that it's okay to think "why the hell did I do this"; it's perfectly normal to groan when your child wakes up (especially when you've just sat down with your hot chocolate and an episode of Real Housewives); and that yes, one day, in the somewhat distant future, you will be able to shower and actually wash your hair. 

And most of all, I hope that through this blog I will rediscover me throughout the craziness that is my life. I hope that this blog will see me through to graduation, finding my first job and hopefully my first promotion. I hope that this blog will see me through my daughter's first cold, her first steps and her first words. And I hope that this blog will see me finally work out how to do winged liner, because I mean, if there's one thing that stumps me, it's that. 

So join me, or don't - I wont make you do anything you don't want to do. 
Let me know who you are, where you're from and whether you're a mother, a student or a fabulous cat breeder with super awesome rollers in your hair. I won't judge. 
Unless you have a man bun. Then I'll judge you. I'll judge A LOT.

xx
Me

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