At the weekend we niece-sat. She was dropped off by The Sister and The Brother In Law in time for lunch on Friday, and picked up again on Sunday afternoon.

That was not one, but two nights. Two bedtime routines. Three lunches. Two dinners. Two breakfasts. Two bathtimes.

And about 5 hours of just me and her time before her very favourite Uncle got home from work on Friday night. I had never, not ever, in her entire 4 years and 10 months on the earth, spent 1 minute on my own with her before then.

I was bricking it big time.

But despite being told I was no fun (she cannot lie my niece), witnessing head bumps and one fall, I had an absolute ball. She was a complete delight to have, and we loved every minute of having her to stay. Even the no sleep on Friday night minutes, and the slightly tense minutes after her nap on Saturday afternoon….

However.

Never before have I been so sure that motherhood is not for me. It is exhausting. Draining. Completely consuming. Utterly petrifying. And requires a level of patience, understanding and tolerance that I just do not have.

Being an aunt meanwhile, is almost the very best thing in the world. If I could just calm down and stop imagining I’m seconds away from breaking her it would be THE best thing in the world.

Except cupcakes maybe….