This is how this blog became a blog:
Mornings with kids are like the bad dream you can never get out of, you keep crying and running away from the monsters but the dream keeps dragging you back in to suffocate you with sticky jam fingers and toasts crusts hurling at you at lightning fast speeds down dark tunnels filled with wet nappies and pee puddles.
My eyes kinda open at stupid fucking o’clock to a tiny face of Moo peeking at me from next to the bed, it’s ordinarily the smallest Little Flea that is already in the bed in between Batman and I and this little face wants in too, “really?” I say “don’t you wanna go play Lego?” knowing full well that he will lie in my bed and fuss and squirm for half an hour before leaving the bed. But the fact that I left the peanut butter out last night from my late night toast fest has bothered him enough he has to be consoled because “You ate it all mum”… all i wanna say is “I fucking bought it”….but i don’t and let him in.
I’m lying in the warmth between two adorable children. My eldest Wheels never comes in anymore, he’s too big and way too cool. And usually, I am too grumpy for him. So I’m lying there, enjoying the ‘sweet adorable family time‘ that i am told to always cherish. The little hands on my face, little faces squashed against my own one kid always squeezing a boob, I am covered in children, Batman ‘sleeps’ in his corner quietly because if you let them think you are awake or even peak one eye open it’s all over.
5 Minutes later:
It’s all over, I am totally un-aware that there is any parent that happily gets out of bed at 6-7am? Where are you and how do i be more like you?
Little flea is intentionally putting her hand on Moo, Moo is getting frustrated (or fucking pissed is more like it) and I’m threatening them both with empty threats of “I’ll cut you, I’ll cut myself with blunt spoons” not really, the threats were more like “if you don’t stop you’ll have to go play in the lounge” knowing full well I was not yet ready to get out of bed to enforce such threats. I’m really good at that. Empty threats. I should work on that. Finally I drag myself from my place of quiet, warm peace-less sex-den (oh the lols) and drag both the kids by their Pj’s from the bed. I’m still in my full outfit from yesterday, scored.
I make them toast, they throw it, the want milk, and I say no because they threw toast and offer water instead which obviously is not ok, they cry and go get the milk and cups anyway and what do I do? Yeah, I give it to them because i am a fucking push over. In-between this, I make a coffee, I make the beds that will only be messed up again anyway, open blinds I will close again at the end of the day and sweep the floor that will be covered in pee and crumbs in an hour anyway and make one delicious and healthy school lunch. (sammich and muesli bars and fruit)
I sit down for the first time in an hour. Little Flea says “MUM! My nappy knickers are wet, you neeeeeeeed to change me”. With sentences like that I wonder to myself, why the feck can’t you do it yourself?” But because I’m mum and I would hate for her to be uncomfortable or upset and get a rash, you know Good mum styles. I change her, get some clothes and knickers our conversation goes as follows:
Her:“not that jumper, it has a hole in it”
Me: “all jumpers have holes for the head Little Flea” (we have been over this a lot)
Her: “NOT, that one mum not that one” and we settle for a button up Flannel shirt.
I’ve chosen Pink frozen knickers for her, they never have been a problem before when this happens.
Her:“Not the pink knickers mum! the blue ones”
I grab the blue frozen knickers instead and put them on and pop her pants over the top:
Her:“not the blue ones, the pink ones”
Me: in head talks (FFS my coffee is definitely going to go cold) “ No Flea, we already have the blue ones on“
Insert random fezpot tantrum about the knicker’s where we undress her and put the pink ones on.
5 minutes later
I’m finally sitting down to drink my coffee and to write this blog little flea says “I need a wee” but clearly she’s already weed. Oh.MY.GOSH.
I change little piss pants Magee and the eldest complains when Flea walks about with no Undies “it’s disgusting mum”. I give him a lecture on ‘nudity is natural’ and ‘vagina’s are not disgusting’ and I think he stopped listening (good, it was way too early for that), they then fight over who gets to sit where on the couch for the majority of the show they watch, punches are thrown, someone pushes Moo off the couch on to the floor where a mega tanty happens because they seriously ruined his whole life. They’re now sitting separated, one on a stool, one at school and one on a huge couch all alone because sharing one 4 seat couch just isn’t ok. Moo on the stool is crying again because, when he sits on the stools “My slipper falls off!!!“. Little flea screams “Don’t you look at me” even though were not. Somewhere there was also a punch up in the kitchen and a tiny keychain sized samurai sword being thrown around. I didn’t even cry.
My coffee is cold, my blood pressure is probably slightly elevated and Batman, he’s asleep with old man lady fart dog. Do not judge him, its his sleep in day, mines tomorrow (see wedding contract).
And for once, this morning unlike all my other mornings this year this one hasn’t ruined my day, I didn’t allow them to crush me when they don’t mean to because they are having a rough time, I didn’t take it personally like I have been in the past, I remained calm much unlike I have been in the last year, I listened and I understood why they were upset and asked them how it felt and what else they could do unlike I have in the last year, I offered hugs instead of yelling and battling against them again unlike I have in the past year.
Connecting myself to them, understanding they too have feelings, confusion and rage just like I do, and when I feel like they do, I just want hugs and there is nothing wrong with that. I am there to connect, provide safety and comfort to teach them how to grow into the people I imagine them being one day.