It’s not that I want my children to be sicker – no, I don’t. I just want them to be silent, for a little while. The elder one is on day three of an ear infection (but there is no vomiting today so far) and the younger one is on large amounts of prescribed laxatives. Just enough to make them both grumpy and screechy and for my nerves to be, ultimately, shattered.
And so I hide from them, stealing all the good jelly beans and locking myself into the bedroom. I hide and even though I’m not alone, being bothered instead by a kicking uterine resident, a peeping duckling and a smooching tomcat, no one is actively whining at me and that improves things, rather a lot.
Some days are easier than others, but then, some days do not contain fluffy ducklings and jelly beans. So even if today is not the easiest of the lot of them, I am practising being thankful, just as I practise being unavailable right now.
Sorry, your mother is taking a mental health break. Leave a message at the door and she’ll get back to you, just as soon as she finishes downloading the words from her brain and eating this chocolate bar. BEEEEEP
If you're new here and you enjoyed this, you may want to subscribe to my RSS feed. Or, you can elect to stay updated via email instead.
by Veronica Foale on November 21, 2011
in Children
Sitting in Emergency last night with my feverish son, I wondered if maybe the Universe was trying to tell me that completing NaBloPoMo this year wasn’t a great idea.
I’m still wondering, even though we’re home now.
by Veronica Foale on November 20, 2011
in Children
I am sucking so badly at NaBlo. Blame this:
by Veronica Foale on November 18, 2011
in Children
I just told my children that it was past their bedtime and therefore, my ears had turned off and I could no longer hear them. These are the measures I am forced to take on a Friday night when we all have ‘flu and are utterly miserable.
And in turn, this is what you get for NaBlo.
Whose stupid idea was this?
by Veronica Foale on November 8, 2011
in Children
Tuesdays herald the start of the school week for us here, this year. It’s not that I don’t love the six hours with only one child following me around like a duckling – because I do, very much – it’s that the stress of getting everyone ready and out of the door on time for school drop off is sending me grey.
It feels like herding cats, or shepherding mice. Like trying to get goldfish to swim in synchronicity without the benefit of a belly full of iron shavings and a magnet.
And I’m trying not to shout, I really am, but when one child is squealing a high pitched squeal and slamming doors and the other child is trying to create a cat trap – when both of them ought to be eating their porridge, that’s when I start to get a bit shouty.
Once breakfast is done, then it’s a haze of hair brushings and face washings and where the hell are your shoes and can you brush your teeth please, no, I mean really brush them and library book and stop shoving and just get in the car already, leave the bloody cat alone.
But I know that even as I hate these mornings because the children are so small that I need to spoon feed them the next step in the getting ready proccess, it is worth it for the quiet. For the chance to drink just one cup of tea without someone shouting that SHE IS PUSHING ME or HE TOOK MY THING.
Definitely.
