Don’t pretend, as a parent, that you own a couch. You own a make-shift bed when your kids are ill and want to watch cartoons at 4 in the morning. You own an indoor trampoline. You own a place to pile clothes. It doesn’t have cushions, it has weapons, it has a floor for a fort, it has stepping stones when the ground is made of lava.

I haven’t posted in a while simply because I was feeling sorry for myself. A week ago last Wednesday was my day off work. Maia informed me she wasn’t feeling well so I said she could wait off school. I was being incredibly selfish and had ridiculous ideas of us all sitting cosy on our couch under a blanket spending the day together just chilling out, chatting about our lives. We got up in the morning and I set off to carry my son down the stairs. As soon as I stepped onto the first stair, I lost my footing and tumbled down the whole staircase right to the bottom. During my fall I had the sense to bundle Myles up in my arms to protect him but in doing so I now had no free hands to stop myself. Myles was unhurt but shaken up as was Maia who saw the whole thing. I managed to calm them down and spent the rest of the day in agony, covered in carpet burns, pretending I was fine. My cosy day was ruined and I wasn’t even 10 minutes into it. This started a chain of events leading to what I am now calling my least favourite day of the year so far.

I can only assume that Myles’ short life flashed before his eyes and he was now determined to live his life to the fullest because he was like a child possessed. It was as if someone had wound up a toy and let it go. The rest of his day was filled with him climbing everything, running everywhere screaming, jumping off of everything. He did manage to get a cracker of a bruise on his cheek but this was not from the fall, which everyone assumed, but from running straight into the corner of my dressing table. He had also decided that a poorly Maia was harshing his buzz and would wildly attack her whenever she came too close or if she tried to cuddle up to me. This caused her to be much more moany than usual.

Shortly after my fall my husband came home to collect Misty who was going to the vets to get spayed. When she returned she was understandably upset and sore. Maia kept crying at her moping, sad cat. Myles kept trying to pick her up by her head. It wasn’t until the next day when I was unable to go to work because of the pain that I gave up and went to A&E where they told me I had whiplash and my muscles had went into spasm. They gave me wonderful painkillers which helped the pain quite a bit but had the unexpected bonus of helping me not give a shit about my wild child or miserable husband who had now banned me from wearing socks in my own home. You know you have hit a new low when you cant even be trusted with socks!

Yes, this has been a rather self-indulgent post but a rubbish post is better than no post at all. I have had no sympathy from my children or my ever-caring husband, I missed a day of work, my house is messier than ever but this old beat-up couch that I had great plans for that morning has been my home and my saviour and that’s a lot of pressure for a piece of furniture which already does so much for a family!