Thursday, August 22, 2013

for two weeks


It's been two weeks, and multiple trips to the Apple store, since I have been present in this space. It actually felt like a reprieve. 
From thinking, and over-thinking the things I could possibly write.
I put down the camera for a little while, and played a gazillion games of Uno with our obsessed middle child. I made breakfast, and heard a three year old voice the words "I'm hungry more than a gazillion times, and washed dishes, and hung laundry under cover out of the rain. I swept under the kitchen bench. Over and over. 
I sighed, and moaned, and rolled my eyes at my attempts at weekly meal plans. 
And I ranted and sent husband grocery shopping. 


I lived a normal non-vignette, un-instagrammable life.
live that kind of life, always, from day to day, moment to moment. 
Living a life that makes me feel I will be forever needed for everything

For finding shoes, and making lunch, and remembering books, and tucking in, and kissing better. 
There are fractions of time, where something is perfect, and I breathe it in, and try to store it away in some place in my memory that doesn't let go, knowing still that more moments will come to replace this one. 
The moments my three sit snuggled on our wall-length couch, under one small blanket. 
And the realisation that one day, they'll sit apart from one another. 
The fractions of time when seven year old boys sneak from their bedrooms at night, teary-eyed, wrapping arms around the mama-waist that is me, and apologise for "not listening the first time".

But sometimes, it's whinging, and arguing, and bickering, and trying to force-feed toddlers dinner, and then relenting and providing weet-bix. 
It's limiting iPads, and kicking them outside, and ignoring the mess, and patting myself on the back for getting dinner on the table.

One minute it's giddy, mothering 'seriously is this really my life?!' gratitude for those amazing three pairs of sparkly brown eyes staring at me. 
The next it's hiding-in-the-bedroom-holding-back-impatient-tears, threatening to give away "ALL the toys if you do not pick them up and put them away RIGHT NOW".

Last week, I stomped my feet, and muttered "It's not fair"
And went and got my nose pierced.*

This week, I wrote on our mirror,
"They turned their can'ts into cans, and their dreams into plans"**

It's a crazy journey, this mothering thing.
Hope I'm not the only one.

xo

*for real. ouch
**thank you, Pinterest

6 comments:

  1. Ouch to the nose ring:) Mothering is so like that. Up and down and around and around but we so wouldn't trade our jobs ... would we?? LOL May your next week be more blissful than stress xx

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  2. The hardest thing is keeping your perspective on the whole thing and picking your fights selectively. Some things matter absolutely, others are just passing moments where it'd be nice to get your own way but not absolutely necessary. Acting and not reacting to provocation and tiredness is tough!

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  3. Definitely not alone Em. We live only blocks away and share such similar lives - although no nose piercing here!! (Did it hurt?) we should tea again soon. Definitely not alone (did I already say that- it had to be said again!) love.

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  4. I'm with Kim - ouch!
    It's a crazy world mothering, but would you trade it for anything else?

    Have a wonderful week!

    x

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  5. Love your honesty. I find it so refreshing seeing posts like this amid all the other vignetted, instagrammed, perfectly pinnable lives that are on show. Whilst I'm single and childless and can't really relate with weekly meal plans and toys, I can say that you sound like a saint. Keep it up, you are amazing x

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    1. You are lovely! Thank you for your beautiful kind words xx

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