Archive for November 3rd, 2013

Mother Idols

Sunday, November 3rd, 2013

Do you have one?

I bet you do. Those other mother’s that you adore. You love their philosophy. Their manner. Their, calm on the outside but the kids are driving me bonkers on the inside just like you, state. Their kids.

I have a few. Actually I know lots and lots of mothers, but I only have a few idols. Some I know really well, others I admire from afar and wonder if they ever have those moments in their own houses when one kid is lying on the table, the other is refusing to eat the dinner you didn’t want to, but bothered to cook, and then the first one whips out a hand and sends a glass smashing over the floor and just for a minute you want to throw your own rip snorter of a tantrum and lie on the floor crying and kicking, but unlike you, they don’t.

I wonder if the positive, but not gushy, (gushy makes me want to vomit up the coffee I threw down on an empty stomach because breakfast for three is just pushing the envelope too far some mornings), talk takes place all the time. I wonder if that stern voice that means business, but is not being launched at a high pitched roar across the dinner table (hmmm, food is the defining factor in my house it seems), is always present. I wonder if they feel overwhelmed and frustrated and just ripped off about the bullshit myth of motherhood that Kleenex are portraying, and cry sometimes.

If they did, I think I would like them even more.

I know mothers who know which battles to fight, but never have to make that choice in public, because they were smart enough to pick the right ones at home first. I love them. I want to be them. I’m trying very hard.

My other mother idols are those who belong to the sisterhood, and let you belong too, no matter what. They don’t judge, or offer advice, or critique. They agree and they share their own horror stories of the evening where the bath got pooed in, the carpet got pooed on and the couch scored a wipe down too, and they weren’t even at home. And they laugh about it. Because hey what else can you do.

My other mother idols are those who have crazy kids and know their limits. The ones who say, yeah sorry but that restaurant at 6.30 with my kids, is not going to end well for anyone, come to my place at 4pm instead. Or, yes I love the sound of a plane ride, then a car ride, then a boat ride and 4 weeks on an exotic island, but I might jump out of the moving car on the way to the airport before we even get to that ‘holiday’ destination, so maybe we will wait 5 years before I even consider that.

And you know the other mother idol I love. The one that can ask for help. Who calls out. Who stands on the roof tops shouting “I have PND, get me some drugs goddamnit.” Who says, this sucks, I need a break, let me have your kids for a bit, and I’ll have yours. The mother who lets people who are offering help her, and ask those who are not to do their bit helping out the family.

You are the mother’s that I idolise and I thank you deeply for taking me along for the ride. But please, tap me on the shoulder if you see me staring for too long, there is probably a dinner on the floor I have to clean up anyway.

What a weekend of sick kids, my own ear infection and crap weather taught me

Sunday, November 3rd, 2013

It was inevitable. Well it must have been because that is what everyone with kids tells me when I explain the haggard look on my face. As soon as your husband goes away, they get sick.

I am sleep deprived, a little more insane than usual and surprisingly okay about it all. First weekend the surfer boy takes off, the kids get sick. Ear infections; so that means grizzling, a temperature, not much sleep, lots of visits to doctors and doctors to us and a very long weekend.

I had to take the Friday off work to care for them because, well, no-one else could really, with the main care giver away. And the fun began about lunchtime. The Wild Child, in all of his determined, will-not-be-made-to-do-anything-that-he-doesnt-want glory will not take medicine of any kind. Turns out this is not such a bad thing. He gets a temperature and proceeds to spend most of the next three days, other than a couple of good hours each morning, either lying on the couch watching telly, or asleep. Not so bad really.

The Stink, well he takes medicine like his life depends on it, he knows the stuff tastes like lollies and he is all over it. So really, he is annoying, grizzly and insists on sleeping in my bed and impersonating his Dad’s best snoring, but also not too bad. I get an ear infection too. Good times. So now I’m also on drugs, cant drink my way through the horrid weekend and feel like I did anyway.

The absolute lowlight, other than no sleep, was the worst part of sick kids, that you can’t hang out with anyone else that has kids. And in my world, no one else wants to hang out with me, so this is all I have. I missed out on an awesome catch up with two of my absolute besties, a rarity with newborns and big car ride in between. That sucks, no doubt about it.

But the rest was actually okay. You do realise how awesome your kids are when they are well, when they have a brief sickness. And you also realise how bloody lucky you are that these things are fleeting and so insignificant you can whinge about it. They didn’t eat much, so that reduced the cooking and cleaning which is a win. And when friends called in Sat arvo for a quick drink, I could have one without too many interruptions. (It truly is amazing how many times I say please don’t touch your brother when there are guests here.)

And you know what else. Surely they will be better next weekend. Well I hope so, I will be a little more frayed and a lot less sane by then, even if a week of full time work with two kids needing looking after can go well, my four days off with them next weekend will feel harder than the working part of the week. photo-2

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