Monday, May 12, 2014

Mother's Day, Reality

I missed the Mother's Day boat, I know. 

I saw all the FB statuses, Instagram photos, blog choruses of how wonderful it is to be a mother, how much they love their mothers, grandmothers, mother-figures. And I felt obliged to do the same, but honestly, last week sucked right up to the weekend and I was feeling a little less than grateful for anything to do with motherhood. So I didn't do anything.

I mentioned Foo and I got birch allergy and he had infected eyes. Well, it got into my eyes too and along with it a host of other strange, annoying pains and maladies popped up. I started to list them here and then deleted it, no one really wants to hear all of that. Needless to say, I was in pain, living on ibruprofen and antihistimines and not a fun person to be around. Which wasn't ideal as it was Mother's Day week, dammit, and the kids had concerts, Mother's Day coffees and I had to be happy and ready to perform as SuperMum. 

Monday started with a concert at 8am. Really, 8am!? So I had to drag all 4 Weans along. And we were late, so we came in mob-handed, disrupted a story about a hedgehog? while we found seats. I got to see Foo sing a bit and play a maraca. Then I had to bundle the biggest and littlest back into their coats and scoot off to the other side of town. Without coffee or Mother's Day niceties. And we were late again. 

The week continued in that manner. By Friday we had another early morning concert, this time at 9, but we still had to take everyone along as we couldn't manage to drop the middle kids off and get back in time. At least the Chief was off work so he got to help. And then there was another coffee thing after we picked them up from school and nursery. By then I was tired, in pain and grumpy and, of course, my kids smelt weakness.  

They were miserably behaved and loud. LOUD!! Not only in our usual non-Finnish way, but unnecessarily shouting, running about and not listening. Screeching whether happy, sad, justified or not. Talking over one another so noone could be heard. I don't care usually what others think of me and my parenting skills, but I hate being made to feel I'm not in charge of my Weans. That pitying look of 'oh, you have your hands full' that so many give me when they're not behaving. Usually I can laugh it off, but this week when being a mother is on spotlight, I felt an utter failure. 

So by bedtime on Friday I lost it and sat them all down for a rant about their behaviour. I threatened major action over shouting and screaming indoors. I was mean, grumpy mummy.

And then the little brats . . . gave me presents. They were so proud of the little bracelet, candle holder and hanging doo-dad they made me they couldn't wait until Sunday. Mouse said how he had made his all in green because it was my favourite colour, so the little ones had to point out the green and purple on theirs. They gave me cuddles and kisses and generally were excited about me. I'm sure someone could wax lyrical about this, but I was grateful and stunned.  


Me with my four little cygnets. Should I be worried there are 3 more eggs in the nest?


I won't say it erased a crappy week or made me view motherhood with shiny new eyes and it didn't mean they were exceptionally well-behaved over the weekend, but it gave me a wee boost to get through it. To cope with the constant cooking, the 'I wants', the lack of quiet, sleep, me-space and sometimes appreciation. They made an effort for Mother's Day to be quiet and let me sleep in, but of course Pudding didn't see that memo, and to get some time to do what I love best, gardening. The weather was lovely and overall it was a memorable day. 







Appears grass was not as tasty as Pudding was led to believe. 


New tree swing. 
 



We have kept to our no shouting mandate though and it is helping a bit. If only they would stop singing at the dinner table. 

Happy belated Mother's Day, especially to my mum who is too far away on days like this. And to all the mums out there who struggle for whatever reason. You only need to look at your kids to remind yourself of the hundreds of ways you're getting it right. 



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