My Girl

 

When she was first born, she looked like a grumpy old lady who had been woken very rudely, but was willing to forgive me, if I would just turn the light out and cuddle her back to sleep.

She used to climb into the chook house, to the complete dismay of its occupants, to share the brekkie scraps that had been thrown in there.

She got her first beesting in the week that she learned to walk.   She stepped solidly on the bee, it stung her, and the next step she took (still taking that massive breath that preceeds ear-splitting toddler howls) she stood on another bee, and it stung her too.

She once ran into a shopping centre elevator 5 seconds ahead of me, and two seconds before the doors closed.  It took 20 minutes to figure out which floor she’d gotten off.

The only way you could tell she’d found a slug in the strawberries she grazed on in the backyard, was by the shudder, and the cockeyed grimace she gave before she swallowed it.

She knew the difference between parsley and any other green thing in the backyard by the time she was three.

She has never needed very much sleep to function energetically, full-bore throughout the day.

She’s good at everything she does, which leaves us scratching our heads and wondering how on earth they swapped her in the hospital without us knowing.

She hates having to choose in the lolly aisle.  If she was allowed to, she would take an hour.  And one of everything.

She turns nine tomorrow.

She’s my baby, and I’ll cry if I want to.

Don’t be offended if…

Don’t be offended if a friend forgets your name during introductions.  This says more about the forgetful person and their current state of mind than it does about you and your ability to be memorable.

On a shopping trip with my 8 year old daughter recently, I bumped into an old school pal.  We had never been close friends but had always shared a very silly sense of humor, so it was delightful to see her after nearly twenty years.  I went to introduce my friend to my daughter and realised I couldn’t remember her name.  Not my friend.  My friends name came back to me in a single heartbeat the second I saw her.  It was my daughters name I couldn’t remember.  Luckily, my daughter was able to supply her name herself, after watching me point and stutter and mentally going through the names of her brothers, the dogs, cats and horses.  And luckily, my friend with the silly sense of humor still has that fabulously silly sense of humour. 

The Bad Mother strikes again.  And apparently I haven’t changed at all.

Happy Days

It’s one and a half weeks to the school holidays and I can’t wait.  Nothing has changed from the time I was a kid and school dragged time out torturously until the holidays started.  Other mothers have looked at me askance for my predilection for the holidays to start.  “What…you want them hanging around bugging you that they’re bored, wanting you to amuse them and eating you out of house and home?” they say to me in a number of different ways.  “Ahyup!” I say to them.  “Why?” they ask me, “Why?  Why?  Why?”

I’ll tell you why:

1.  Routine completely breaks down.  No waking at 6am, or getting out of bed at that hour whether one is awake or not.

2.  We can have semi-legitimate pajama days, and if anyone comes around and surprises us all at home in our jarmies, we can say “We have one pajama day every school holidays,” and they never need to know that it is the third one we’ve had.  In a row.

3.  We have food experiments whenever it takes the mood.  “Mum can we try grilling Nutella and sesame seeds on celery sticks for morning tea?”…..”Ahyup!”

4.  There aren’t any (many) fights because I have a path to the clothes line that I need dug out, and if you have the energy to fight, then you have the energy to dig out Mama’s path.  They don’t get bored for the same reason.  I can’t wait till that path is finished!

5.  I have an excuse not to worry about the housework because I can always roll my eyes to the visitors and say “Can you believe how messy the house gets when the kids are home from school?” and they say “Yes,” politely, which really just feeds my justification.

6.  The kids are now totally into what they call the ‘old classic’ movies that I love.  I’m talking ‘Star Wars’, ‘Empire Strikes Back’, ‘Return of the Jedi’, anything with Harrison Ford, submarines or special effects etc etc.  Yeah, I know – old classics?  How rude.

7.  Having them out of school for two weeks, we get to break the nit cycle.  Oh, come on…I know it’s distasteful, but it is a reality.  It can’t be only me, can it?  Can it?  Bugger.

8.  I can have Nana-naps.

9.   Under the guise of supervising something fun for the kids we can roast many bags of marshmallows inside in front of the slow combustion fire.  “Kids!  Where are you, it’s time to roast marshmallows……whaddya mean you’re over it?!  You guys have no staying power, toss me that bag and I’ll show you how it’s done…Kids?  Kids?”

10.  Who doesn’t feel better after 14 mental health days in a row?  I like not having to argue over homework and assignments…it means I can just enjoy my kids as people….before they grow up, get wise to public transport and discover ways to escape my tormenting clutches.

I’m going to have to start thinking about how to drive them nuts now, or my path may never get finished!