So with 4 more sleeps until the day when we are thankful for our little ones, rejoice in motherhood and basically sit back and dwell on the wonders and delights of having kids I thought it would be apt to share with you my ‘joys’ of motherhood. For those that actually consider motherhood to be a joy (more than 30% of the time) then this may not be the read for you….
So here goes. Yesterday morning I hid. Under the duvet. Yep. A grown woman, hiding. (warning again, this blog is not going on my application of Mother-of-the-year award).
To be honest it had been a car crash sleep performance from Boo so I was not in the best, well-equipped state to deal with my two, but the fact remains the same. I crawled under the duvet and with my hands covering my ears and spent, possibly, 5 peaceful minutes on a beach, listening to the waves lapping the golden, sun-kissed sand, a book in one hand and a cocktail of some exotic description in the other.
Sadly I finally had to leave that pre-kids, joyful place and return to the rather joy-less life of ‘try and keep the kids from killing each other and remain in some form sane’.
I am sure some of you are already aware but we have two – Bea and Boo. Life was not the easiest with Bea, not a fan of the sleeping, not particular content with the world and from the moment she could talk (which was pretty early) was and is rather vocal. I do remember the conversation with Mr P when we’d been going through the highs, and more frequent lows, of parenthood – Bea about 15 months – we knew we wanted two and actually uttered the words ‘it’s pretty bad now so we may as well have another as it can’t get too much worse’. If I could travel back in time I would go back to that moment and slap both of us in the face while very firmly saying ‘ohhhh, you fools. It can…’. (In our defence we had been trying for some time to have Bea so thought we’d be looking at the same – insert someone having a laugh, and bulls eye first, or second, try with Boo!!)
Before I go on I do want to make it clear, crystal in fact, that we love our monkeys, there are moments (mostly when they are asleep) that I can feel my heart beat so hard with love. But there are other moments that, in our current two toddler stage, I wish I could get in a rocket and make a camp on the moon!
So, I shall give you an idea of what daily life is like. Boo wakes first (mostly around the 4.45am/5am mark with screams of ‘play mumma’). That’s nice, if not a bit like my eyeballs have been set alight (mainly because I have been up anywhere between 3-8 times throughout the night). We have ‘duddle’ time downstairs while I attempt to keep Mr P and Bea asleep. Then Bea wakes. Rarely does she ‘wake well’. In fact, she is akin to a bear with a sore tooth in the morning.
So, she’s grumpy, he’s ready to play with her.
Here starts the recipe toward disaster. She pushes him while attempting to have a morning cuddle, he then wants a ‘duddle’ so starts screaming, she then cry’s, I’m guessing to match his screams… all this in the 3-4 minutes of both of them being awake, and together, at the same time.
By breakfast time (maybe 20 minutes later) there has been more pushing, shoving. Maybe a bit of ‘play’ which generally involves Bea trying to push Boo off the sofa, him pulling her hair while playing hairdressers, her shoving his head into a small space… I could go on… But maybe you’re getting the picture?
By lunch there would def be some form of blood or bruising. Possibly from a sideward kick when they think I’m not looking, or a shove into the door when out.
By midday, I am contemplating what time is too early for wine.
God forbid that I need something from the supermarket (and yes I have tried the distraction with food, toys, phone, keys, bag, games techniques!). In most worlds this is an ordinary, very easy, ‘what shall we get for dinner’ experience. In my world it’s so bloody different. Here are my shopping experience options. Options for Boo are either:
1. Him undergoing his own version of supermarket sweep involving him attempting to pull everything he can off the shelves or;
2. SCREAMING the place down while strapped into the seat (who would not like to be sat in a shopping trolley seat and pushed around? Isn’t that actually what he will do once at college/uni??).
With bea (now at the ripe age of 4) its slightly easier but generally involves her:
1. Running off (if I opt for choice 1 with boo) around the aisle while laughing manically, or;
2. Hanging off the side of the trolley, taunting boo (if I opt for choice 2 with boo), poking him, whilst chanting ‘I’m not strapped in, I’m not strapped in’.
I wish other experiences were better. The park this morning. A big open space for them to run free, enjoy the fresh air, laugh and play games together, ended in Bea pushing Boo off his scooter into the mud. Him screaming ‘no’ at the top of his lungs as she scooted off on her scooter. This in 6 minutes. We left 8 minutes later.
Soft play – a basic excuse to hurl each other around in a wrestling competition for kids, in the ‘safe’ environment of padded equipment.
In fact the only respite comes when they are engaged separately in nursery. This is peace. When separated he becomes the sweetest, kindest, and most loving little lad. Bea transforms into a caring, kind, thoughtful and seriously switched on little lady.
I don’t know whether it is having two so close, or whether its James and I, whose genes should never really procreate. But if I am being brutally honest as I sit looking toward the big MD, life with two toddlers is not a ball. And motherhood? I do find the joys, it’s just they are much less frequent than I expected them to be…