Today I spent the day with my two oldest boys in Sydney. It's school holidays and my 9 year old desperately wanted to go to Slimefest (great marketing Nickelodeon... exactly how many times did you play that ad in a day before I succumbed and bought the tickets just so I didn't have to be called to the lounge every time the ad came on??!?!?) So off we went in the hopes of being slimed (no, not me, I opted for the "parent zone") and watching a concert.
I'm a working mum. A single working mum. I often get asked how I juggle it all. And to be honest I don't know. It's just what I do. A day at a time I guess. Am I good at juggling it all? Hell no. I have copious amounts of washing to be folded. The shower needs cleaning. Sometimes the kids eat breakfast on the run. I forget school notes. And some days I have working mother guilt.
I went back to work after 8 years of being a stay at home mum. Before my first day at my new job I had analysed, over-analysed and then re-analysed the whole working mum thing. I didn't have confidence that I would pull it off. I was still married at this time, so had the support of another parent to help out, yet I literally did not look past the day at hand for a long while. But it worked out. Soon it became our new routine.
I am very maternal. I absolutely adore my children. I love just having them in my presence and would naturally do anything for them.
When my first son was born I was the over-achiever mum. I fell in love with him and I put all my energy into being the perfect mumma. Yep, we painted our own Christmas wrap, I was the playgroup co-ordinator, we read book after book, the only CDs in my car were kids songs, every article of clothing matched, every toy was analysed and I almost photographed the face off that kid.
His brother came along just before my first son went to school and the toy box grew and the clothes were handed down but I still invested so much into being mum.
By the time number 3 came along I had a 10 and a 5 year old, so I now had 3 children at 3 different childhood stages. My parenting skills set hadn't changed but with number 3 playgroup didn't have the same appeal, Christmas wrap is bought at the shops and yes he really has checked shorts and a striped shirt on. I'm now that mum who rolls her eyes at every Elf on the damn shelf post and bento lunchbox with snow peas and hommus picture. Ain't nobody got time for that. (No offence Elf on a shelf and bento box mummas, I've admitted I had my time).
Do my kids drive me crazy? Yes, yep, uh-huh. In the last week my 5 year old dropped his bowl of cereal at the front door as we were leaving, my 9 year old had to be told 6 times (yes I counted) to put his shoes on and my 14 year old used a swear word at me for the first time when he wasn't happy. Would I say I am a great mum tho? Well I try. And that's all any parent can do. I'm winging it just like the rest of us. I don't always get it right. Sometimes I am out of my depth.
I actually struggle to put into words how much I love my children. Unconditional love. They can drive me to the brink of insanity and with one smile bring me back again. They trust me. They love me. They open my eyes by showing me the world through theirs. They are learning the ways of the world and growing and exploring and I am honoured to be part of this.
I love having fun and adventures with the boys. I like to have one-on-one time with them as much as I like having them all under my wings.
I am their mumma and they are my babies.
