This is a shout out to all the mums and dads holding down full-time jobs while raising kids.

Actually it goes out to everyone raising kids.

I’ve been back at full-time work for almost four months now and the struggle is real.

Very real.

I’m probably feeling a bit sorry for myself, given I’m battling my second head cold in as many weeks, but whoever said women can have it all were surely having a lend.

It’s a battle most mornings and it’s usually the simple things such as finally getting to the car with a toddler and two bags in your arms and realising you hadn’t brushed your teeth.

Or the guilt at daycare when your son has a meltdown and it takes two educators to comfort him while you leave hoping no one has noticed the tears streaming down your face.

And then at work, realising you have no idea what the cool people are talking about because you’ve had the The Wiggles CD on rotation for the past six months and the only TV shows you’ve watched are Play School, Sesame Street, Dirtgirl and Dinosaur Train.

Although I must stay I’m getting better at stifling the yawns often brought on by four hours of broken sleep.

My house is a constant mess.

When I close the door as we head off to daycare and then work, I secretly hope my husband gets home from work first and does it all.

But who am I kidding?

He’s up at 4am most days and then has our son for almost three hours ’til I get home.

No chance of getting anything done except making more mess.

Sundays are our only day together as a family and it’s devoted to church, family and friends. So by the time Monday rolls around and the husband is off to work and bubba and I head off to swimming lessons and whatever other adventures the day brings, the whole cycle starts again.

It gets done eventually. Usually at 9pm when our son is asleep or we’ve run out of clean dishes and clothes. Often both.

Would I swap my life for eight hours sleep and a clean house?

Not a chance.