It’s merely the middle of the week and I am already waving the white flag of parenting. By definition, waving a white flag is a recognised symbol to signal a ceasefire. It is also used to signify surrender, since it is often the weaker party which requests negotiation. A wave of chaos has entered our house, which is typical after a busy or exciting weekend but it’s caught up with me already.
No matter how hard I have tried to keep everything in tip top order this week, it’s just not happened. There are piles of clean laundry around the house with the desire to be put away. There is a laundry basket piled high, ready to be washed and a sink full of dishes to be cleaned and put away. I had washed a total of 2 dishes before having to referee the chaos that was unfolding in the living room. I rush in to find a full blown war between the two youngest over a gold Sally car from Disney’s Cars (of all the hundreds of cars I tread on they fight over one!), all the while the eldest is dancing around them like an Indian Chief.
Trying to get them ready for school in the morning can only be compared to chasing wild geese. Get middle son dressed to find the youngest has since stripped himself of all his clothes and is running around in a nappy and an odd pair of wellington boots. Breakfast is prepared and going soggy whilst eldest still dances around the living room in his pants and t-shirt. Now to entice the youngest in the pushchair. He’s redressed and looking precious so now it’s time to prize him from his scuttle bug whilst he holds onto the handles and wraps his legs underneath the seat. Said child tantrums because he fears he will never see his scuttle bug again and so I plead with him to sit in the pushchair or the other two will be late for school. Finally, the toddler shaped, rigid plank of wood is in a seated position, strapped in and we’re off!
We arrive at school to realise we’d forgotten to do a piece of eldest’s homework and therefore throws a paddy because it’s now too late. Teacher stops us outside the classroom to sign a permission form for Tennis class, because lets face it, it had lost itself somewhere in the pile of ‘to do’. Middle son is beside himself because his 1:1 teacher is off poorly today and he is convinced he will never see her again.
Having dropped the two bigger children at school, I thought it in all our interests to ignore the dishes and the piles of washing at home and go to Soft Play and have a bit of fun with the youngest and a friend of ours. It was fun indeed, albeit not relaxing in the slightest and spent the majority of the time in the ball pit yawning and wondering why on earth I hadn’t suggested going home for a game of sleeping lions.
Walking home, the youngest was extremely tired and yet refused to sit in his pushchair. Instead, he thought it better to walk in a different direction at every opportunity, demand for juice and talk until my ears hurt.
Still, the parenting and housework isn’t going to do itself so you suck it up and carry on cause you’re the boss and you’ve got this handled. Arrive home and do said dishes. Compare the height of the piles of clothes to the height of energy left in your body and decide it’s simply not happening tonight and reside on the sofa with a cup of coffee for a selfish amount of time. Youngest falls asleep, you feel guilty for sitting like a sloth and so have the bright idea to work out and fathom some energy. You never know, it might enable me to put away those clothes tonight!
Collect children from school to find out eldest has not had the best day and has lost his playtime. Children settled down with dinner and as usual middle son does everything he can to avoid eating. With the knowledge of it being pancake day, children swiftly eat their dinner in great anticipation of the delightfulness that follows. I tell them we must wait for Daddy to come home from work or he will be upset that we have eaten pancakes without him. 5 oclock…. 5:30… 6 oclock……. where on earth has Daddy got too! Children are now wailing as they are tired and its almost bedtime. Daddy comes into find children stood in front of mummy in a line demanding pancakes. Mummy goes off to the kitchen to make pancakes and feeds the children (including Daddy who makes a complete mess with the sugar) till their tummies are full. Daddy says ‘Mummy why aren’t you having any pancakes?’ I tell him because the children are eating them faster than mummy can cook them and to be honest, I have heard the word pancakes so many times this last hour, I’m already full up!
The little cherubs are settled into bed and I sigh with relief! Motherhood is truly wonderful, but it doesn’t come with a manual and sometimes I’ll admit it’s no fun. They miss out the tough stuff and you figure it all out on your own, trial and error, there is no one size fits all when it comes to parenting. You have days, sometimes weeks where you are purely winging your way through to bedtime. Some days you have it down to a fine art and it’s perfection. It makes the not-so-good days worth while. I’ve always said it, we ALL have moments like these. We all have days where our children are pretty awful to live with. We all loose our sanity and/or the will to live and want to reside in a cupboard with the door locked and a bucket load of crap food. Some are just better at hiding it than others.
So today I will wave my white flag and plead with the children for a ceasefire ’cause this Mamma’s real tired.
I’ll negotiate and communicate until the chaos subsides.