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Seriously sick of my own whinging ass today.

Am not going to be one of those mothers who has heaps of kids and is constantly complaining about how much work they are, especially in the school holidays. Am not going to whinge about the never ending washing, dishes, preparing food, tidying rooms or requesting (usually more than once) others to do so causing an argument. Or about having to pull up by the side of the road to kick Miss 5 out of the troopy because her whinging meant I was surely going to crash it. Or about what Miss 3 did to my pot plant just before bed “because it was a bit ugly”. Not long before she screeched she wouldn’t go to bed because I was “an idiot” for not letting her stay up and watch a movie because she said she was sorry she broke my plant. I can tell you (BREATHE) that the only idiot around here is not the one with the calm voice who manages to get her in bed by 6.30pm FAST ASLEEP. Makes me want to put my thumbs up by my ears and do the idiot face and say to her gorgeous sleeping face “nah, nah, nah, nah , nah naaaah, not such an idiot now”. But of course, I am far too mature for that.

Am not. Am just not going to be that woman.

And so, with all that out of the way, there is absolutely nothing for me to talk about!

I’m sick of my own company, my sour face, the tension in my shoulders, the fake calm voice. I’m just about ready to let Little Red out and go wherever she goes. The only problem is I like all the other chooks, and the thing I’m meant to be doing has them in it. I just need a little bit more chicken dancing with that.

Or perhaps some more of Miss 5’s “Story tap dance of all time” that she elegantly performed for us this evening. It even had a part in it where she played the girl who wanted to tap dance, so to be that girl she had to take her tap shoes off, run over to the audience (me) and then run back and put them on again. There was a lot of dramatics and only some tap dancing. Her tap dancing made up for the troopy tantrum. They just have a way of doing that, being a toddler/preschooler is like having a personality mood disorder. Being the mother of toddler/preschoolers seems to instil the same mood disorder.

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Am not that woman. No idiots here.

I know, during this time, it is very important (more important than usual) to find time to do “me” things, but I don’t think that’s a realistic concept at this point in time and surely I should be able to manage to have a week of 6 kids and a big girl and not completely lose it or suffer from the dreaded Motherguilt. You may have noticed it’s not really the big 5 that rate in the “caving my head in” stories. And they are the ones who go to school, and the best bit about the school holidays is we all get to sleep in, the routine is out the window and we all get to hang out. I like that. I don’t want that to be over. Just the whinging, plant breaking, idiot calling part.

Am not that woman. Who on earth is she?


Author Fleur

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