Redundant

I remember the times when all I asked for was 10 minutes by myself. Preferably doing something fun and semi-rewarding but I’d settle for alone-time in the bathroom. But not even that was possible.

I also remembered the time when both of the kids where off on playdates and I got so much free time on my hands I didn’t know what to do with it.

So therefore I wasn’t prepared for this, the sense of exclusion and redundace. When I am not longer needed. Already? What?!

And somewhere deep, deep inside in the blackest of all black holes I understand them. The mothers who forces their children to stay with them with different forms of guilt.

Time for mummy to get a new hobby. A life.

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