Illusions Of A Parent And Car Safety

We all have dreams and ideas for our lives, our homes, our marriages,  our children. We dream of winning the Lotto or landing a big promotion. We dream of living in Mauritius with a Butler. We think big ideas regarding our future. We dream, we dream alot.

Then there’s the everyday type of dreaming; you promise yourself that tomorrow is the day you’ll have this parenting malarkey sussed and you map out your day, and even throw in a new creative activity you recently saw on Pinterest. Then real life shows up. It’s not even 9.30am and you need a double vodka, a big slice of chocolate fudge cake, and possibly a Strepsil to soothe your throat from all the yelling you’d promised yourself you weren’t going to do today, again.

Here are four dreams and romantic ideas of mine. They lull me into a false sense of dreaminess and make me think things are a good idea – when, in reality, if they don’t involve unwashed hair, pj’s, and not having to socialise with any other human beings, then it’s safe to say it’ll be a bad idea.

Lets go for a lovely drive

The dream – Let’s all hop into the family car and go for a lovely, autumnal drive. Let’s marvel at the scenery and sing along to our favourite songs. Let’s find a layby to stop and drink hot chocolate and enjoy each other’s company.

Reality – Nobody wants to go for a drive except momma. The kids karate chop each other across the seats. Momma thinks about car safety and quickly does a mental checklist; Are the coolant/water levels ok? Is the tyre pressure going to be ok and when did we last check it? Is the oil level ok? Do we have enough windscreen wash? Do all of our lights work? Is the boot free of unnecessary weight? Is everybody strapped into their seats properly without thick coats? Do we know where we are going? Right, all checked, meanwhile everybody argues over which music should be played. The car steams up and blocks everybody’s view of the scenery. The smell of the countryside makes the 5yo hurl. The hurl makes the 7yo cry. They both make momma cry. Daddy then cries after he feels a tyre blow! Forget the countryside we now need to find Kwikfit and something stronger than hot chocolate

Babycino dates with my handsome boys and my husband

The dream – We get dressed with minor fuss. Mummys hair looks great. Everyone is happy. We leave the house on time and remember everything. The journey is smooth and tearless. We order and take our seats. The boys eat the cake they chose without moaning or swapping. They sit lovely and use their manners. They drink their babycinos. We have a relaxing coffee with our lovely little boys.

Reality – The boys moan their way through waking up. Mummy is exhausted from being woken up every 45 minutes from midnight til 5am by a dehydrating three year old. The lounge floor is a Coco Pop assault course. Nobody likes milk this morning; it’s “poo poo!” Nobody wants a bath. Mummy has to karate chop pj’s off two flailing baby dragons. The bath is apparently boiling hot. Mummy slings two boys into the lava-temperature bath. Two boys get washed while doing a tantrum dance. Mummy is soaked. And mad. Nobody wants to get dressed but no choice is given. Have you tried dressing a wild coyote? Mummy gets ready in 10 minutes whilst playing referee. Daddy takes a bit longer. We leave the house 45 minutes later than planned. Mummys face sweats. Mummy forgets the changing bag. The journey is not moan free; it’s hot, the sun hurts, it’s cold, etc etc. We pull up at the coffee shop. Let’s start afresh. We order. We sit. D1 doesn’t like his chair. D2 will not swap. D1 now likes his chair. D2 now wants to swap. D1 wants Daddys cake. So does D2. No one sits still. Two dragons roar loud. D1 hits D2. A brawl occurs with a latte being piggy in the middle. People judge us. We quickly drink our coffee. We exit quick. The end.

The toystore visit

The dream – We promise our children a special treat from the big toy store for their good behaviour. We are all excited to visit the store, and feel a sense of magic. It will feel just like the Toys R Us advert. Our two children will be so excited and so grateful to us. They will hold our hand and dance down the aisle in amazement at all the wonderful toys on show.

Reality – There was no good behaviour yet we are still going to the toystore. The boys are excited. We arrive. D2 makes a getaway on the car park and runs fast. Good start. We go into the store. D1 wants the Lego aisle. D2 wants the dollies aisle. D2 lays on the floor and refuses to walk. We drag him to another aisle. We walk down the music aisle. D2 plays the keyboard. D1 pushes D2 off the stool for his turn. D2 bites D1. Timeout in a toystore is always a joyous time. Apologies are made. Fresh start. The bike aisle. D1 tests out a bike. D2 has climbed the shelf and is head first in a tractor. He screams when he is pulled out. Cue lying on the floor. After 45 minutes of pure stress we decide to leave. But not empty handed because we’re crazy like that! Anyone else? The end.

Let’s eat out for dinner

The dream – You want to spend some quality time with your family so decide to go out for dinner. You choose a child friendly restaurant and imagine the four of you enjoying a lovely meal as a family. The kids eat well and wait patiently for their pudding. You leave feeling full and proud.

Reality – You end up at Pizza hut because you know the icecream factory will be the perfect bribe for your children to behave well and eat their meal. It all starts well. D2 eats a crayon but that’s nothing abnormal. They choose their food. It takes 365 days to arrive. They get hangry. Crayons are thrown. Legs are jerked. Snarls are exchanged. The pizza arrives. Cue a break down because I won’t let my children eat molten lava pizza. It cools. They eat. They eat well. Mummy and daddys food arrives. Mid pizza the icecream tantrum begins. Everyone stares. We cave. The boys have dessert. Pizza hut call in Environmental Health to de-toddler the sprinkles and syrups counter. They have a second helping. We use four hundred baby wipes, 20 napkins, and we leave. The end.

But would we have it any other way? Yes! Yes we would 🤣

Kids Are Gross (& expensive)

Before you become a parent you have a quiet, and sometimes unconfirmed,  notion that children are messy. Children enjoy puddle jumping, making mud pies, painting, cooking, water fights,  and other seemingly cute messy activities. Children are associated with being messy, a cute sort of memory making messy.

When you become a parent you quickly realise you’ve believed a big fat lie. Children are messy. Grossly messy. Vile make you wanna vomit messy. Kids are gross! Or maybe it’s just my boys?

From the moment your babies are born you have to deal with the grossness; yellow chicken korma poops that squirt 4 metres across the room as you change your newborns nappy, or the little yellow fountain that strikes you unaware and right in the face, or the huge bogey you have to excavate like a velociraptors bones!

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As your children get older the grossness increases. I find myself doing the grossest of tasks since becoming a parent, and I also see my children partaking in gross tasks too!

For example, my 3yo had been potty trained for a while and during training he never had one single poop accident, so why on earth 6 months later he has pooped in his pants several times a day I do not know. I have a rule, if its bigger than a 10 pence piece I throw the pants away, (this rule got quashed after the 7th pair of new pants I had to bin!) if not I scrub them and wash them. Scrubbing somebody else’s poop is beyond vile, especially with a sensitive gag reflex like mine. I tried every parenting approach possible to break this pooping habit. Then I thought we’d cracked it. A whole five days with no accidents, until day six. Five flaming accidents. I felt like I stank of a 3yo’s poop. I could smell it everywhere. Accidents in pjs, in new pants, in the bath. Everywhere!  It was hard not to be cross, and sick! Nobody warned me about poop regression and the smell of hot poop being scrubbed away. Big fat vom!! Kids are gross! I needed to take a small loan out to supply him with underwear!

Not all of the gross moments are quite this bad though. They vary on the grossness scale!

Here are some of my grossest tasks during my first 4 years of motherhood and some gross things my kids did. Can you relate?

Being given a huge bogey to dispose of, in a tissueless hand.

Wondering if your child has pooped, and pulling back his nappy to check. Poop finger alert!

Going to kiss your child and he burps. In your mouth.

Going to kiss your child and he licks your nostril.

Being out in public, with no bins, no wipes, and being handed a dribble filled fluff ridden sweet – your only option is to eat it!

Having my second child drop his dummy in the sand. No Milton, no water, no anything – you have no choice but to suck it clean to mask his squeals!

My toddler treads in dog poop at the park. I can’t find the owner of the excrement to clean the shoe so I resort to a stick!

My 3yo decides to wee all over my 2yo (my husband said I needed to point out that this was in the bath!)

My 2yo eats a whole stick of chalk. Picking it out their teeth is not pretty.

Toddler vomit is horrendous. Picking up chunks of regurgitated salmon fishcakes is something that scars you for life.

My 2yo picks up a dead fly. He chews and swallows in 2 seconds flat. I pass out.

My 2yo eats sand, by the handful. He chews. He enjoys it. He is gross.

My 2yo loves licking my cat and then running around with his tongue out shocked it’s covered in fur. De-furring a 2yo’s tongue is a very difficult task.

My 2yo finds sweets on the floor and instantly eats them.

My 3yo feeds my 2yo his bogeys. My 2yo willingly takes them and eats them before I can reach him.

My 3yo has a rude itch. He scratches. He offers you his fingers for a smell. Gross.

There are hundreds more. Too many too mention. Some too gross to mention. The ages 5 to 6 have been something else! I’m sure that will be another post one day soon!

 

The World Of Siblings

I am an only child. I’ve never experienced sibling love or rivalry. I didn’t have to share my loved ones or my toys. I didn’t wear hand-me-down clothing, and I didn’t have to share my room. I don’t know what it’s like to have a sibling, or what the ‘normal’ is in regards to your siblings.

I know nothing about sibling relationships.

My two boys are now 5yo and 6yo, and I often find myself asking my husband if this is normal behaviour for siblings. Are sibling relationships really meant to be like this? Should I be wanting to pull my hair out several times a day? My husband has both brothers, and sisters. He usually just laughs at me like I’m crazy for even asking, but I do question them in my mind, a lot.

Is it normal to sneakily punch your younger brother on the way past him?

Is it normal to ask your brother to smell your feet?

Is it normal to ask your brother to hold a bogey for you?

Is it normal to compare ‘toe fluff’ with that of your brothers toes?

Is it normal to randomly lick your older brother?

Is it normal to push your brother down the slide backwards?

Is it normal to chase your brother with ‘cheesy puff fingers’ and make him cry because he hates the smell?

Is it normal to wrestle like your arch enemies?

Is it normal to make your little bother ‘walk the plank’?

Is it normal to force your brother to have ‘fake medicine’ and be your patient?

Is it normal to nearly lightsaber your brother into oblivion?

Is it normal to push each other so often?

Is it normal that everything has to be a competition?

Is it normal to offer your brother a piece of candy only because it fell on the floor?

Is it normal to splash each other until tears occur in the bath?

Is it normal to pee over your brother in the bath?

Is it normal to constantly tell tales on one another?

Is this what brothers do?

My husband says yes, unreservedly yes! I have no choice but to believe him, and enjoy this crazy-chaotic-sibling relationship.

In the mean time I’ll stick to strong coffee, chocolate and rest in the fact that if I do end up pulling my hair out I can always turn to Advanced Tricho Pigmentation Treatment for a little help! 🤣

Here’s to a funfilled next few years with my little rascals!