Parenting, not for sissies.

So I hate to be the bearer of bad news but all you moms with babies and small kids who think its hard. Well. Truth be told, it never gets easier. I have a ten year old, and almost eight year old, an almost three year old and a five month old and believe it or not I’ll take the little ones over the big ones any day.

 

When Blake (almost three) has a tantrum or acts out, he is usually tired and frustrated at not being heard, in general his stuff is easy to handle. The baby, Kyra, is a lovely, happy, smiley baby who only ever fusses when she is tired, hungry or needs a change. Nappies are the biggest challenge with these two. As long as they are fed and loved and stimulated they never offer any real challenge.

 

Now for two mornings in a row I have been found standing in the passage arguing with Haedyn (ten) and Mycaela (almost eight) over who took whose school tie or socks *sigh* EVERY night they are told to get their things ready for school, EVERY night they assure me it has been done and yet EVERY morning there is some or other fight about random school paraphernalia.

 

Mycaela loses things at a rate unknown to man and really doesn’t get it most days. My mom fetches them from aftercare in the afternoons and every evening when I get home there is a new reason Mycaela is in trouble. Yesterday when my mom arrived to fetch her, she was rolling around on the ground in her brand new school jacket giggling like a mad person, really?! What is the point? As usual when asked she says her friends told her to, that is her go to sadly *sigh* When she wants to find something to wear she pulls literally everything out of her cupboard and throws it all on the floor. She never sits down and eats her dinner without a fight, she lies about homework and has over 20 demerits this year already. She is a challenge of the highest order, give me nappies and interrupted sleep any day thanks!

 

Haedyn is at an age where he asks awkward questions, stuff he has no business knowing anyway. He whines like a champion about everything and sulks for nothing. I feel like I spend my life asking him how old he is, surely at ten the foot stomping, lip quivering tantrums at five in the morning should be a thing of the past? Should he not by this point have some understanding of how things happen? The other day after I woke him up he chose to roll over and go back to sleep cos he didn’t feel like it. Crikey child, I NEVER feel like it. That said I have been your mother long enough for you to know you need a much better story if you think you are getting a day off school, for serious. Do not even get me started on his attitude, the attitude is legendary. He only recently (in the last six months) was actually allowed to operate the kettle to make tea/coffee but if you dare ask him to make any you get the monstrous sigh and eye roll with the exaggerated ‘Do I have to?’ Meh. Just meh. I’d actually happily give up some sleep to have dealing with him be easier.

 

I am quietly dreading the teenage years, I sometimes wonder what the hell I was thinking I am going to have teenagers and little kids at the same time. I imagine I will have to bribe the little ones with sweeties to tell me what the teens have been up to or resort to being that mother who sits at the back of the theatre spying while they are out.

 

On the flip side I am looking forward to finding creative ways to keep them in line. I have this idea that punishment should hit them where it hurts, I am not about taking away phones etc the first time one of them does something to cross a major line I fully intend to collect them from their next party or sports even in my slippers and dressing gown, possibly with rollers in my hair. Hah, that would totally give me a kick. I also imagine we will get fairly creative when they start bringing girlfriends and boyfriends home. I have this idea that the first time they come over we’ll act like folks from Delmas, all hillbilly and redneck and then the next time they come over have them sit down to a formal dinner, starched tablecloth and all. *insert manic laughter*

 

I would totally understand if you felt terrible for my kids but I do believe my unorthodox methods have worked thus far so intend to continue on.

 

Right now I am still trying to get back into being at work and am still a little taken aback by how happy people are to have me back, there has been squealing for cheese sakes. I miss the kids when I am at work, they drive me bat shit crazy when I am at home. I have yet to master the whole work life balance and suspect it will be a while. I am on total sensory overload and am feeling a little sick for being exposed to all the bugs in the aircon at the office, yuck.

 

I sometimes feel cheated cos I never had the chance to want to be a mom, so I never considered everything that it would involve for the rest of my life. I will admit to wondering what I would be doing had I not fallen pregnant when I did. Then on a Sunday morning when I have all the kids cuddled in bed with us, my soul rests and my heart swells and I know, without a single doubt, that this is exactly where I am meant to be.

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3 thoughts on “Parenting, not for sissies.

  1. OMG!! You just described MY HOUSE!!! No really. Just this morning Cameron had NO uniform and Kiara had ONE sock!!!! EVERYONE gets blamed – the nanny didnt do the washing, I hid it – whatever – EVER MORNING THIS HAPPENS and it happens the second David says “in the car” – then suddenly there is chaos despite us both saying “are you ready?” over and over for at least an hour!!

    And Kiara and Mycaela – TWO peas!!!!!!!! Get her some IQ tabs – they are a tad pricey but they work. I had the lying about homework with Kiara – I nearly gave her away!

    Not sure I am willing to say Jack is easy ;-p The little monster has started yelling at us when we say no, he doesnt ever actually leave anything we tell him to leave blah blah!

    Point is – parenting is harder than climbing Everest in winter with no thick socks and gloves!

  2. I love your ideas of disipline and am furiously taking notes 🙂
    Paul has this idea that when Faith brings a boy home for the first time he will just sit and stair at him, not say one single word the whole time but never take his eyes of the kid.

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