Who did I think I was to think I could be a Mum AND anything else? Me? A blogger? I must’ve been kidding myself. I had been thinking about blogging for some time and I admit it made me actually excited; the thought of being able to have something that was mine, all mine . . . but it is not easy.
I am writing snippets of posts any time I can. That is, in between my Motherly commitments. In the last 15 minutes I have broken up a ‘rumble’ (code for see who can smash whose head on the tiles first) between Masters 3 and 20 months. I have stopped Master 20 months from excavating all the rocks from the garden and throwing them at the car in the garage and at Master 3 (he has the arm of an Olympic hammer thrower and the accuracy of a sniper). To do this I had to negotiate the obstacle course that is scattered toys on the verandah in the process.
I have managed not to choke Master 3 for the constant repetitive chant to “watch Chuggington, watch Chuggington, watch Chuggington, all the while he refused to use ‘please’ as he knows well how to do. All this time I had Master 8 weeks at my breast trying to put him to sleep.
I mustered as much patience as I could and asked Master 3 to go and play. His quick and smart reply was “I played already”. I was both proud of his intelligence and frustrated in equal measure. Then he and his younger brother joined forces against me and started throwing rocks in the garden together. There was combined rumbling and rock throwing in spades.
Once they got bored with that they nagged me for food. Using perfect manners this time Master 3 asked for a drink of milk. I relented since it was time for morning tea anyway . . . Then there was the usual onslaught of questions about things he knows the answer to. It’s all a game to press my buttons, I know this. It still pissed me off though. About the cup of milk; “Is this milk Mama?” About the tiny teddys; “Are these bears Mama?” About the empty teddys packet; “Is this rubbish Mama?” “Can I put it in the bin”? “Can you hold it for me?” . . . This happens simultaneously as Master 20 months tips milk out onto the table and rubs his hands through it to spread it all over the table.
Then, suddenly from Master 3 . . . “Mama, I love you in the whole world”. Then, Master 20 months; echoed the sentiment with “Wuv oo Maaamaaa”. And that makes it all worth it, doesn’t it?