Tag: Mummyblog

Experiencing ‘The Juggle’

I’ve always been a fan of Grazia magazine and their endless campaigns for women’s rights and their community – ‘The Juggle UK’ -was always on my radar and I understood it and I thought I experienced it during maternity leave.

I can expressly say, now that I’m back working full time, both because I have to, because the world is falling apart and we need the money, but also I work full time, because ***MUM GUILT ALERT***, I also want to. Now, only NOW do I really experience, at least my own, circus act. Juggling doesn’t do it justice.

I am a tightrope walker with a basket of laundry blocking my view trying not to fall (I can carry two baskets these days, thank you genetic birthing hips…. Ironically not used for birthing but that’s another story and it seems I found a useful job for them anyway!)

I’m a trapeze artist holding on tightly to both kids while I swing them from nursery to home to friends to activities. I‘m an acrobat when it comes to speed tidying. I’m a clown because I’d rather be stupid and try to make them laugh than just try to ride out the tantrums. I’m 100% an animal trainer – except I think lions would be easier sometimes.

I’m definitely the ring master – and this is not a slight on Lad Dad in any way because he wants to help with everything but there are certain things I cannot release control of – menu planning, feeding the kids, making the weekend plans.

But… when does the circus close? After the kids go to bed, I’m lucky if I can keep my eyes open for two hours, and that can be verified by this sorely neglected blog. Do you know how I even found time to write this? I’m sick. Been slammed by some sort of chesty flu (not Covid!) which I reckon I got because I burn the candle at 8000 ends. I’m writing this in bed with a lemsip (other brands are available). I slept for 3 hours after the kids left this morning. I’m just so drained.

I hope it’s obvious that I would caveat this with the fact I love them deeply, wouldn’t change a thing, yadadada and that’s ALL true. Most the time I like the circus but right now I’m burned out.

I had my review at work the other day and my manager asked me if I think I stretch myself too thin… and I know that the answer to that is yes but how can I not. My kids need me, I like to perform well at my job. There’s no plates I can drop at the moment, except it seems, this creative outlet. So, to mix up my analogies, I guess I keep juggling.

And try not to drop the blog. Because this is mine, and it’s not appropriate for the circus.

Swearing Lad

Singing those swears!

Sooooooooo Benji has starting singing a silly song, which broadly goes along the lines of ‘F*cks Sake, F*cking Sakes, F*cking f*cking f*ck’ etc. We ignore it, taking the advice of every parent ever in existence that if we make a thing of it, we are dooooomed.

Thing is… this one is almost definitely mummy’s fault.

I swear a lot, and I’m rubbish at censoring myself. I swear when I drive, I swear when I’m tired, I swear when I drop things. I have normalised it and, like everything else I do, he is just mirroring me.

Benji is definitely going through a mummy phase, I’m the one he asks for when he wakes up, when it’s breakfast, dinner and bed time. And I can see that it’s a bit unfair on Lad Dad but it’s also not something I can control! Besides, Lad Dad gets Jake who is definitely in daddy’s boy phase. He bites mummy.

What it does mean is that Benji is my little shadow. He, rather cutely, follows me about the house, wanting to help with whatever I’m doing and telling me exciting things about myself and life.

This week, amongst other things, I learned that I’m a good maker (he means cook), that giraffes have blue tongues, that he only likes to walk on Fridays (he’s big into days of the week at the moment), that we are all good guys and the police won’t arrest us, and that I’m his mummy.

Which is helpful because sometimes after the tantrums, I like to be reminded that it’s me and not some she-devil that birthed this demon child. (I joke, I love the kid tantrums and all. Mostly.)

But it also means that I’m not alone often outside of working hours and when they’re not at nursery and this has led to a complete breakdown of my self-censoring.

Because I like to swear, and I know it’s not ‘becoming of a lady’ or whatever (sigh plus eye roll) and I genuinely only do it when it’s warranted. I like the way the words sound as they come out, all harsh letters and ANGER and it’s the release I need for whatever is annoying me.

I’m not a monster. I don’t swear professionally or anything. And I’d never swear in front of other people’s kids (at least I don’t think I do) but around my own, I seem to have forgotten to stop it. Recent events have been a worthy reminder that I need to get back to the parenting deal we make… not to utter filthy curse words.

We were at our friends house for a play date the other day, watching Scotland win the rugby, and eating seasonal party food instead of lunch – because that’s what we do every year, its bloody awesome and you’re not allowed to judge us. And Benji was swearing away like some kind of dirty mouthed squaddie… and it was SO hard not to laugh. But we know if we do, we’ll just make the problem worse. And what if their toddler starts doing it too – will all our friends drop us?

Luckily these friends seemed to be ok about it, but not everybody is going to feel that way. I will, I WILL, be more self aware.

We’re returning the party food favour on Sunday. I hope we’re not returning the wildly inappropriate swearing though…

Thanks for f*cking reading.