I keep bumping into things. I don’t think it’s due to a medical condition, I’m putting it down to three things: distraction, speed and tiredness. If you think about it, these three words pretty much sum up a parents’ lot in life. One daughter or another is often telling me that they told me something that I am denying having heard – I was probably distracted. I feel quite guilty about being distracted when they are wanting my attention. When they were little, I would purposefully distract myself from their whingeing and tantruming, in order to prove a point: life isn’t only about you sunshine, get used to it! However, now they are teenagers and they still need my attention, perhaps now more than ever.
Parents are always rushing. We pack so much into our kids’ lives now, that finding time to breathe takes quite an effort and you can forget about having a leisurely crap – there’s just no time. People are often quite shocked about how fast I eat. I put it down to having four kids so close together. I had to get it down my neck before one of them needed something. Have you ever thought about how proficient parents become at eating one handed? My ex and I used to call our dinners: one handed scoff. For years we were hard wired to only cooking meals that required a fork.
Finally, there’s tiredness. I can tackle just about anything life throws at me on sufficient sleep. One bad night, however and it’s like the hangover from hell. Where’s the post, Hun? (In the freezer). Mum, where’s that form you signed? (On the back of the shopping list). Where are my keys? (Inside). Where am I? (Locked out). So it goes on and so we all go on. Putting one foot in front of the other and hoping that life is good enough and on some days, much better. I just saw this post on Facebook, written by a mum with small kids: Lovely dog walk, with only 1 Minnie (sic) disaster ☺️ As parents, our lives are 1 mini disaster after another, but we take them in our stride and things can still be lovely. Above all, despite the bruises from walking into door knobs and furniture, the dodgy choice of clothes because of the lack of time and the fact that my children sometimes feel ignored, life could always be worse.
Life Could Always Be Worse…we could be spending Easter in a tent, with 4 teenagers and no wifi in the pissing rain…oh, we are. Well, the tent could have a hole in it and the alcohol could run out.