A Life Without Limits…

So, this morning we had friends coming over at 10am for a play date.
On a ninja day I’ve achieved everything bar world peace by 10am…

Unfortunately today was not a ninja day. At 8.59… no one was dressed… I had furry mouth… and I wasn’t yet firing on all cylinders.

Our friends are awesome… we met at a postnatal group after little man was born. At first we were two mums with a boy and a girl… now we’ve evened it up beautifully by each having 2 babies…one of each flavour… and very close in age. This means our worlds are very similar and we can truly empathise with one another.  Our ‘parenting ethos’… if that’s what you can call it… (sounds grand)…is pretty similar too… which makes being around each other ‘easy’.

We’d not seen each other for a couple of weeks so I didn’t want to cancel… but I thought I should probably give her a heads up as to the state she might find us all in…

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Before 9am my darling boy had two -on the floor-rolling- legs kicking- screaming and spitting tantrums. Hard to believe my angel boy would behave like this I know… but he does have his moments.

These were the supporting statements for each tantrum:

(Imagine them delivered via the medium of scream, tears and what I can only describe as ‘gargling’…)

“I want a baby chicken!!!”

Whilst holding out a tiny cupped hand and pretending to stroke said baby chicken with one tiny outstretched pointy finger…

and…

“I want to take my skin off!!!”

This was due to a breakfast dining experience in just his nappy. .. resulting in milk spillage on his skin. Apparently a spot of scrubbage with a baby wipe just wasn’t good enough… “I’m sorry son. .. you can’t take your skin off!” Not something I’d imagined saying…ever… if I’m honest.

Combine this with a very clingy McClingerson baby girl who is cutting her first teeth and you have one frazzled Mummy.

Now… it wasn’t imperative… but I quite fancied putting on some actual clothes and at least attempting to brush my hair before our friends arrived. Indulgent I know…

The usual morning routine consists of breakfast, followed by washing and dressing of the babes, followed by washing and dressing of the mummy. Stage 3 of this routine is not without it’s problems. Little Dorrit sits in her bouncy chair in the bathroom so I can shower/do the shower dance to stop her from crying. .. meanwhile wee man plays in his room.

Well… this morning… even getting to stage 3 was a problem. Wee man is particularly unsteady on his feet so I follow him closely as he climbs the stairs… carrying his baby sister. He doesn’t enjoy this today however and keeps trying to push me away.

There are also the screw holes in the wall where a banister once lived- where my son likes to stop… point… and exclaim: “Daddy did it!” over and over until I say “Yes, Daddy took the banister off”…

There are NINE of these holes…

I have 32 minutes until our friends get here and I look like Mowgli…

So I give him a warning…
“I’m going to count to three and if you don’t start climbing the stairs nicely;  I’m going to carry you up…”

Usually this works. .. not today.

He starts to laugh and tries to slide back down the stairs… where I am standing… still holding his baby sister.

I pick him up instantly and he begins a mid air tantrum… throwing himself backward and headbutting me full tilt in the mouth.

I taste blood and rage instantly and simultaneously.

At this very second…I could easily smack him…

But I don’t.

There was a moment of hesitation where he sensed what he had done…

…silence…

I carry him the five steps to his bedroom and close the door on him.

His tantrum re-erupts.

I cry.

I cried because that was the first moment I felt like I could lose my temper with him…

I cried because I was relieved I didn’t.

…and I cried because in the collision between my son’s head and my mouth I’d bitten a chunk out of my actual face…it was owchy… and I’m a wimp.

I wash and dress quickly…
(Whilst singing ‘Wind the Bobbin Up’ over and over to baby girl to distract her from the harsh reality that I’d put her down for longer than 10 seconds)

I return to the boy’s room.

…silence…

I open the door to a picture of serenity:

My 2 year old son lying on his front… swinging his legs happily… reading ‘Mr Bump.’

He greets me with a cheeky smile.

I open the baby gate and step inside.

“Sorry for bumping mummy’s head mummy… I give it a kiss?” He says… in his cutest of voices.

The storm is over. We cuddle.

He pulls my mouth open to inspect the damage. He kisses my mouth… and exclaims…

“You are…. HEALED!!!!”
(In the tone of a Christian healer… just as I do to him to make him laugh and cure his baddies.)

We laugh.

All is forgiven.

♥♥♥

Why are you sharing this with us I hear you ask?

Because I’m keeping it real.

Despite it’s joy and it’s beauty… parenthood is hard… from conception onwards there are times where you feel it pushing you to your absolute limits… and you have to consciously rise above them… your own limits?!!

I don’t believe in smacking.

People will roll their eyes and tut… possibly call me a do-gooder…
…’I aint even bovvered tho’…

In my mind… If I smacked my children… it would be because I had lost my temper… not because I was making an adult and responsible decision about how best to discipline them.  Also, how can I teach my 2 year old boy that it is wrong to hit others… even when you are angry… if I then do the same to him?

Honestly… as punishments go… hitting is probably the least effective consequence for negative behaviours…It’s finite… a smack hurts… that’s it. I was smacked as a child. I’m not psychologically damaged or anything… but I also know it didn’t prevent me from doing naughty stuff…

The moral of this story…

I bet the advertising team at Clearblue are kicking themselves that the Royal Navy nabbed this tag line… because seriously…

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Also…in times of a Mummy Meltdown… there’s nothing better than a Mummy friend:

 

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Hooray for Mummy friends!

Big Love… as ever

♥♥♥

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Binky Linky
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One thought on “A Life Without Limits…

  1. I can imagine his angelic smiley face now…

    I was also smacked as a child and I also did many naughty things… Many… And now look at me! I shall be learning all these lessons from you before I have my brood and then I also hope to be ninja mum, not just ninja cat lady 😉 love you x x x

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