There are days when being a full-time mum is amazing. Halcyon days of smiling children, an empty washing basket and hours free from tears and tantrums. The latter being mine. Of course the kids would still tantrum, let’s be realistic here.
Then there are the days that really suck. That leave you emotionally and physically drained and wishing you could fall into a vat of wine at the end of it, but you can’t because you’ve still got to feed the baby so a thimble is all you’ll get. Then you opt for an alcohol-free beer because you know you won’t get enough sleep to counteract the alcohol in your thimble and even then it’s only half an alcohol-free beer because otherwise your pregnancy battered bladder will keep you up, too. Today is one of those days.
The Middle One is cutting her back teeth and she has a cold. She’s been restless at night. Lovely Husband grabbed her last night and took her into the spare room in an attempt to cut down the intrusions into my slumber. He’s good like that. The Little One only woke to be fed once and then campaigned for cuddles from about five; I can live with that. The pissed up clubber who’d been given the wrong number (mine) by a girl he thought he’d pulled and decided it’d be a great idea to keep trying it at around midnight, I could definitely live without. I swear there is a conspiracy to keep me from sleeping.
This morning was fairly uneventful. Bra full of baby sick (nothing new there), a change of clothes for me and the Little One and a trip to Tesco with my lovely Mum, Medium and Little.
This afternoon went downhill fairly rapidly. A meeting at pre-school to talk about their concerns over the Big One’s relationship building. I can’t fault the Big One’s pre-school. They really are going out of their way to include a shy, quiet little girl who had a tough start with endless ear infections and glue ear. That said, hearing someone say that your wonderful baby is behind her peers in anything makes your heart plummet. She’ll get there; I know she will.
Changing the Little One later at home, I smiled as I saw the vest she was wearing was emblazoned with the word ‘Perfect’. I remember dressing the Big One in the exact same vest three years and nine months ago. And to me she still is and always will be just that: Perfect. It kind of put things into perspective.
As soon as the poppers were popped, it was jabs time for the Little One. She is my third child and yet taking her for vaccinations is no easier. I know I’m doing the right thing – I’m protecting my child from illnesses that could kill or maim her, but the moment when you hear that cry? It haunts you. Little One is now fast asleep on her Daddy, but I think it’ll be an unsettled night. Who needs sleep anyway?
The Medium One asked for a chocolate mousse for dessert after her tea. The Big One saw I was feeding the Little One and climbed into the fridge to get one for her. Smothered in chocolate, the Medium One got down and showed me that she’d filled her nappy by sticking her fingers in it. Whether it was chocolate or something else she smeared on the sofa, I have no idea. All I know is it was brown and she was promptly thrown in the shower.
But the day is done. Tomorrow is going to be one full of smiles and without tears and tantrums. Now, if someone could just come and do the washing for me, that’d be great.