I find myself at least once a day uttering (mostly to myself) that I am too old for this shit. How old are you then I hear the chorus sing-song to me. I am twenty eight. To be met with ideas that I am a spring chicken (I don’t have feathers thankyouverymuch) or I am still a baby, to which I say fuck you very much. I get the whole age is just a number malarky also but if age were measured on experience points like video games I would be closer to three hundred.
I have been a mom for twelve years this year (eeeek). I have changed nappies and done snot and vomit and fevers and tantrums and homework and nosy family interfering for twelve years. So those of you who are forty and have a five year old actually have some ‘age’ advantage on me. Yes sure I don’t have wrinkles or grey hair or have use just yet for a zimmer frame but dammit some days I feel like I belong in an old age home. Those feelings generally surface when I am hiding in the bathroom with the light off so no one knows I am there.
This parenting thing is just not glamorous or cool. I secretly curse all the super-organised, home-school, cupcake- baking, craft -doing super moms. I hate you because I just cannot be you. My toddler is a wee bit on the wild side, the red nail varnish hand prints and scribbled crayon drawings over every surface in the house is testament to this. My four year old is dangerously obsessed with zombies and death and has a bit of an attitude problem. I once told him I was going to smack him. He told me I would have to catch him first and sped off into the garden. Yeah I am totally winning right?
Mycaela just doesn’t care, about anything. She doesn’t do homework, she is always in trouble at school. She doesn’t do chores, she hurts her siblings and she refuses to talk to anyone about anything. I am moments from shipping her off to Abu Dhabi express. Haedyn is at that fun pre-teen age where my every instruction is met with heavy sighs and many questions, following which he usually does the exact opposite anyway. I think he may be grounded until his twenty first birthday at this rate.
Then of course I am still expected to be an employee, fiance, daughter, sister, friend, employer and person. I am not sure I have the energy to maintain this facade of sanity.
So if you happen to see me hanging around with unbrushed hair licking a lamp post or something, just smile and wave 🙂