Although I'm 100% of the mindset that children should enrich who you are, not leave you defined simply by the achievements of your uterus, it's hard to put yourself first when you're a mum (sob, sob).
I'm not talking about the bigger things - I do still wash... most of the time, but it's easy to place yourself at the bottom of your own list of priorities.
As a result, I have a host of little niggles that I could easily deal with, but that I can't seem to find the 2 mins each day that it would take to sort them out.
Six years ago, I had Psoriasis on my elbows. Now, it has crept to my knees, and one of my ankles. In my cupboard, there is a cream which I know - if applied appropriately - will get rid of the problem in approximately 10 days. Each day, I start off thinking - I really must put that cream on today. By 10pm, I couldn't give a f*** about red elbows and knees and lack the energy to open the tube.
I had a pretty severe allergic reaction to I know not what a few times last year, and once this year so far. Last JUNE - yes, June 2015 - I was given a referral letter from my GP to go and see a specialist. It has taken me A YEAR to make this appointment, which is actually taking place on 21st June. Simply because I can't imagine having the time to go.
Similarly to psoriasis, I have mild asthma. And yes, I do use my puffer. But I also have a preventer inhaler, and should really be taking that every day. But do I heck.
4. Pelvic Floor.
Readers of a nervous (or male) disposition look away now. But here in France they prescribe you 20 sessions of "bio-feedback" after you've squeezed out a bubba. It gets everything "back into place." The prescription for this was written for me in May 2015. My first appointment is on Friday.
Of course, I am keeping the wolves from the door in other ways. I do hack away the shrubbery that is my leg hair, have the occasional wax, and once in a while wash my hair. I keep the mummy show on the road, as it were.
But look a little closer, and the cracks (both metaphorical and psoriasis patches) are starting to show. So I've decided to get out the sticky tape and put things back together.
But sod it, I'll start tomorrow.
On another note, I think we can safely assume Lily won't be following in her mummy's footsteps anytime soon. We happened to be on a farm at the very moment when a sheep gave birth and she saw this wonderful even take place. Thinking she'd be amazed, I asked her what she thought.
"Sheep are disgusting", she said, folding her arms. "I hate sheep now. And I don't want to be a mummy anymore."
Family planning at its finest...