Yes you read that right – it’s not a recipe passed down via generations of familial cooks. It’s not a recipe for the perfect ‘loaf’ though I did try to implement my copywriting skills and include ‘loaf’ in the title, as you can see, it didn’t work!

So what do you add when you’re trying to drive yourself over the proverbial edge?

First, let’s add some flavour and really get this course of self destruction cooking on gas.

Starter – Fuck This Shit

• To start I like to include a heavy dose of listening to the kids scream from the minute they wake. The youngest starts by demanding milk, the biggest already irritated before her eyes are fully open at the sound of his shrillness.
• Forget whether or not your took your medication already.
• Then to ensure full discord is achieved before 8am, add in a few shakes of them both refusing to get dressed or eat their breakfast. Not a morsel passes tightly pressed lips.
• The starter is almost ready but don’t forget to find PE kit, £1 coin for Christmas jumper day, the Christmas jumper that was dirty last night – sniff test says it’s musty but passable.
• Drive to the end of the street and realise you’ve forgotten lunch boxes or gloves – insert other casual but necessary items here (such as waterproofs coat) to season.
• Go home and retrieve forgotten property and return it to school before you’ve even sipped a cup of tea. Remember to order your online shop to stir things up a bit.
• Shopping makes you hungry so eat a handful of biscuits and fuck the diet right out the window.
• Finally, to serve garnish with a text message from school telling you PE is tomorrow.

Main course – Straw, Camel and a Broken Back.

• For the main course, start by going to the park. Then watch one hundred and fifty episodes of Paddington Bear.
• Yawn for a full thirty minutes because you’re exhausted. Take some painkillers and fight like hell with your toddler to take a nap.
• Continue fight until you can no longer tolerate the sound of their objections.
• Stand on a musical toy on your way out of the room to really amp up the frustration.
• Add a dash of washing, a sprinkle of life admin and a few sneezes. The latter is as a result of tries and tested germ passing between members of your household. A cough to the eyes, a sneeze to the face, etc etc.
• Squeeze a juice of ‘I have only one hour to get four hours worth of work done’ and stir.
• Add in your mum popping in with some bits for you and ever so slightly wincing at the state of your house.
• Then add a cup of the baby getting woken up by the dog barking at the sound of your mum at the door.
• Finally, to garnish, try for another hour to get the baby back to sleep. Take some painkillers, make another cup of tea you won’t get to drink and pay every single bill and fill out the calendar with forest school dates for the next term. Delicious!

Dessert – Brain Fog, Chronic Pain and Tears.

• You’ve been looking forward to this all day. It’s your favourite dish. It’s super easy to make. You just hand both of your kids to your husband as he walks through the door at 5.30pm and enjoy.
• Haha just kidding, first you must do homework with child number 1 whilst child number 2 screams in the background.
• You’re in pain. You’re exhausted and your husband tuts around you wiping down surfaces and complaining the house is a mess.
• Pour in a bath, for them, not you, and don’t even think about relaxing because you still haven’t tidied up the toys that are about to boil over and saturate the last of available space in your overcrowded two bedroom terrace.
• Read three stories, complain about how much more exhausted you are than your husband. Ignore your messages whilst scrolling instagram.
• Add a kiss goodnight and thirty-five cups of ‘Wake the fuck up’ before morning.

Chef’s tips – for full flavour!

Don’t ask for help, it’s unlikely you’ll get it even though at least five people have said ‘Let me know if you need anything’ they don’t mean it, they aren’t really listening.

Make sure you run out of your medicines on a Friday so you’re fucked for the weekend.

Book a babysitter and be grateful when you have to cancel that it’s because you’re sick and not one (or both) of the kids.

Work until at least ten o’clock every night because it’s the only time you’ll have to do anything without a screaming commentary.

Treat yourself to a takeaway and then wonder where all your money goes and why you haven’t lost your two year old baby weight.

More scrolling comparing yourself to people you’ve never met, online.

If you like things really spicy, let the washing pile up, eat another takeaway instead, and run yourself a bath. Or better still, go to bed when the kids go to bed and enjoy the extra thirty-five minutes of sleep you’ll get.

Bon Appetite!! 👩🏻‍🍳

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In all seriousness now – Obviously (I hope it’s obvious) the above text is meant in jest. Nobody should follow this recipe. If anything – please take this as a reminder to TAKE A BREAK. Motherhood is hard. Your children adore you. You’re doing great. 💕