The room spins around me as I slam my eyes shut. The whirring feeling continues through my neck, behind my eyes and down into my jaw.
My toddler murmurs beside me and digs his fingers into my scalp. He pulls at a clump of my frizzy curls. I've learnt to ignore the pain. He uses my unkempt mane as a comfort and I don't deny him the opportunity this morning. "Let him sleep a little longer", I plead.
My toddler sits bolt upright, "mama, downstairs".
I groan, pushing the searing pain in my hips and knees to the back of my mind. The pain that my doctor said is "just part of being a Mum".
I shake away the dizziness and force myself to get out of bed.
Last night was tough on my self esteem. Tired children and a premenstrual mum is a recipe for disaster.. and it was. Non-stop arguments, I lost my rag a few times whilst my toddler saw an opportunity to reek havoc. I'd gone to bed feeling like a villain.
I'd left my hot water bottle downstairs and couldn't muster the energy to get back up to fetch it. So I suffered the period pain in silence. Wishing I was somewhere else.
As I sit here writing this, My toddler curled on my lap and a cold cup of tea beside me, I wonder when my next lash lift appointment is - it's the only hour I get to myself and I crave that time away. That time to chat, uninterrupted, with a real life adult. No hands pawing at me. My body becomes my own for one hour every six weeks.
Should I book a treatment to get some of that uninterrupted time? No, I can't afford it.
This is why I'm going to make this doll making thing work. Of course I'm doing it for my children first and foremost. I'll treat them to a lovely holiday, some nice toys, a visit to a theme park. But a close second is ME. I will get to a place where I can afford to take 10 minutes out from being a Mum and have a weekly massage. I will have my hair cut by a professional instead of hacking at it myself with a pair of kitchen scissors. And. I will buy that fox print popsy dress I have admired from a far, for too long.