It Could Be Worse!

So if any one happens to have a Donna Doll that they are sticking pins in – enough! Please Stop! I need a little rest from bad luck! It’s only February and so far, my partner spent a week in hospital, he is anxiously contemplating a serious surgical solution to a chronic illness, the kids are full of vomit, runs and snot (though nothing too serious thankfully), the baby has been up all night for a week writhing in pain with his back teeth and me? Well I was watching Dexter last night you know the show about the serial killer and looked across at my raised black calved leg being iced (though technically spinached would be  more accurate!) and thought, ‘actually yes, I look like an extra on the show – without the Miami tan of course!’

Then the icing on the cake yesterday, my partner came home with the dreaded letter – he is on notice of redundancy...........

I’m reminded of the (lovely but young and naive -  probably still lives at home or at least takes washing there!) Speech and Language Therapist who told me a couple of weeks ago how important my 4 year old was (more important she said than my class) and how if I needed to take time off work every week for the foreseeable future, which was peeing off my boss I really had no choice I just needed to do it..........at the time I thought.’ You have no idea......’

My family is the most important thing to me but that means being responsible. You don’t give your children everything they want all the time, how could you? Life is full of limits and rules and choice – well that’s what makes civilisation and we all want civilised children don’t we?! (You know ones we can safely take to pizza express!)

We understand Mums have to make choices all the time, every day, every blooming second. Breast? Christening? Bedroom? Organic? Co-sleep? Schools?

 We look at the pyramid of needs and try and get as high up there as we possibly can, so most of us get warmth, shelter, food and then if we’re covered we try for the arts........

I just heard on T.V. - Lorraine (so it must be true) it costs two hundred and ten thousand pounds to raise a child, gulp, I really hope we don’t have to do it on one wage or of course even worse no wage, but if we do, we’ll still making choices and trying our best with what we’ve got.......

So at bedtime last night I read, ‘ It Could’ve Been Worse’ to the four year old- it’s about a mouse who amongst other close shaves trips unaware and falls just as the snake is about to pounce.........

........and as my big boy snuggles in I feel lucky and count my blessings and say to him, ‘Give us a kiss!’ which he does on my nose – which is his new way and makes us both laugh and snuggle some more!

Wrestle

Wrestle

This week my leg is out of action, I was playing and did a tiny little run and ‘ping’ went my calf muscle, pain, pain, pain and off to A and E!

What I’ve realised since I’ve been sensitively hopping is just how physical being a mum is.....ok, ok we all know that don’t we? Playing, running, racing, jumping, chasing, lifting, throwing and so on...........

What I’ve realised since I’ve been sensitively hopping is how much force is needed being a mum or more precisely how much force is needed to  get my boys to do the simplest things.

Take this morning, I tell the four year old it’s time to wash his face, simple request one would think. He begins by standing too far away to actually touch, I scoop him forward and he turns his head almost all the way round wise old owl like – as though water would actually make him melt Wicked Witch of Oz style. Then the flannel is too hot, too cold too wet and various other nonsense, till the only option is wrestle into a head lock and scrub, he wriggles and wriggles till smack his mouth crashes against the sink and I am reminded of Christmas morning two years ago when in almost the identical move he smacked his eye and we dashed off to A and E. My family certainly makes the most of the NHS.

He spent the rest of the festive period and is on all of the photos with a split eye and butterfly stitches, he now has a action man scar there which makes him look tougher than he is!

And really don’t get me started on trying to wipe noses that mucus madness takes agility, speed and strength in fact I’m thinking of recommending it as a new sport for the up and coming London Olympics. I’m no good at it so won’t be competing but have two little bogey monsters for the Olympic team to practice on with a seemingly never ending snot supply!

Since the baby started walking he sees every request as a challenge, and blimey he’s fast for little ‘un! Chubby little legs almost bionic as they streak through the house away from the bath or the nappies or - the biggest wrestling match of all time – the sleep suit! (Sleep suit press studs have been known to reduce my other half to tears of frustration alone- add a moving target to the equation and his brain will just malfunction!)

Right I smell a smell which means I’m off to hobble chase the little one around the house madly waving wet wipes......................................

Mummy says when I grow up I'm going to be a proper little madam!

So according to the Daily Mirror the number one job children want to do when they grow up is.......... duh, duh, duhhhh...... a teacher! It might have something to do with knowledge-in the words of Roy ‘catchphrase’ Walker,  ‘say what you see’ -  I mean I guess a five year old wouldn’t know they wanted to be a I.T. accounts manager,  ( my six year old niece says she want to be a psychologist (or Cheryl Cole) because my brother told her that’s what he wants her to be  (psychologist not Chezza of course))

My mum tut tuts and thinks kids just want to be famous for famous sake these days, regurgitating her  GMTV’s Lorraine’s  view that people just want to be famous now without talent or a desire to be good at something....come on suckers you think all those people in the olden times wanted to be actresses, models and pop stars for the craft? They just didn’t realise you could be famous for nothing back then!

So after teacher, is vet. I think that’s really sweet, caring and nurturing and maybe slightly influenced by a Barbie careers doll!

The number three job – footballer here is where it goes a little murky, I mean I guess there are plenty of boys (maybe girls too) who just love football and can’t think of a better way to spend their working life but given the questions my school assembly asked the footballer who turned up 3 hours late (community service I wonder?, he certainly didn’t seem the type to inspire the children) I have to conclude that ‘footballer’ is short hand for a certain Roonified life style. The children asked about the car he drove, his girlfriends and the money he made and at a push a little football.

A lone gallant teacher tried to ask a question to offer the mumbling scouse cliché a chance to be a good role model, a gentleman of the pitch,

‘How do you manage disputes? We are having some difficulties with the year 4 boys......’ 

Here he came alive, ‘ Erm yeh, erm fighting on the pitch is good, it shows your passionate about the game!’

‘But disputes should be left on the pitch? Hand shaken? Good sportsmanship?’ she tried to counter..........

’Erm yeh, ‘pose so!’ he conceded eyes dead again.

The next three most popular ‘jobs to do when I’m a grown up’ for  todays children are doctor, firefighter and policeman. I feel hopeful about the next generation! Not a banker among them!

7 is pop star (who amongst us hasn’t had that dream? ‘Donna please Siobhan is throwing up in the toilet, she can’t go on, you’re the only one who knows the words and can save the Bananaramas  reputation the Smash Hits Awards depends on you!!!!!!....)  then 8 nurse and 9 the exciting archaeologist or scientist for all the kids in glasses! Tenth on the list is dancer......Louis Spence you have a lot to answer for!!!