Why are school mornings like Groundhog Day!?

This morning was like every other morning, which is like every morning in households everywhere that children live.  The dreaded school run! Why oh why is it just so hard!?

It doesn’t seem to matter what time I get up, how organised I might be, the result is still the same… shouting that we need to go, teeth still not cleaned, ties suddenly lost and an announcement at two mins to blast off that they need to take something random with them to school! Why do they do that, they’ve had a whole sodding night, but NO, please announce this at 7.55am!!

The difference in my household and I’m sure its the same for all mum’s of special ones, the worry is that it will always be Groundhog Day.  Will I always have to remind about putting on deodorant, brushing hair and the fact that there is jam smile on her face?! Don’t get me wrong, I am happy to do this for as long as it takes, but A. it worries me that I’ll still be doing this when she is 25+ and B. it pisses me off!

Thing is, as mums we (that’s the Royal ‘we’) have enough trouble having to think about what we need to do for ourselves, but as a mum, you also have to do the thinking for everyone else as well!  All my two kids want to think about is Pokemon/Skylanders and Coronation Street episodes from three years ago, therefore it’s down to me to remember drinks bottles, PE kits, reading records, lunch, teeth cleaned, suncream/scarf & gloves (depending on the time of year) and any other parafinalia I may have missed!

So literally, every day, every single sodding day, I say (shout) the same thing to the kids before school… and I know you do too… and if you don’t, you are a very lucky lady!  It has to be beyond a shadow of a doubt, the worst hour of the day.  The relief that I feel once they are both dropped off is immense, it just rolls off my shoulders in a big “thank fuck for that!”.

I’ve mentioned before about how hubby would call me, usually on his way to work during school run hour because he thought of something trivial on the way to work.  He quickly learnt not to do this.  Well, a few weeks ago, I went away with my old school mates for some R&R which meant hubby had to do two mornings of school runs!  As we  landed in Dublin, I called home to say we arrived safely… His first words were  “how the fuck do you do that every day?  You deserve a bloody medal!”  I know!!

I’m very fortunate that I mostly work at home and go into the office once (sometimes twice) a week, so for four out of five days, I know I can wing it where I am concerned – if I’m only half ready its no biggy.  If I had to go through the stress of being ‘work ready’ every morning and try to get out of the door at stupid o’clock, I would now be found rocking in a chair with a very large Gin!  At least this way, its just Gin!!

But in all seriousness, as our children grow up, they do become more self-sufficient and do things for themselves.  I have a fiercely independent eight year-old who even now, does so much for himself.

However, for our children who have challenges and needs, it doesn’t always go that way and as parents, there is always the niggling worry in the back of our minds that we will always need to be around to help… which of course, we always will be.  Just pass me the Gin!! xx

Until next time…

Tales of a Mother’s Daughter xxx

This blog of course, extends to stay at home dad’s and not just limited to us mums!

 

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Dads are from Mars… Mums are from Venus! 

How many times do you look at the father of your children and think they must live on another planet?  I swear, it doesn’t matter what you do in life, as a mum, you are pretty much the font of all knowledge – accept of course if the electric goes, the computer freezes or you have to admit you don’t know where the petrol cap button is on the car (damn it!).

Now, I’m certainly not dissing men here, (and my very own hubby is the most wonderful man ever ) so don’t be getting on your high horse lads – this is all a little bit of fun, but these are the questions I ask myself every week!

So, I’ll start with the obvious… the bloody toilet seat!  For the love of god, just put the damn thing down… and squirt some bleach down there while you’re at it!!

It doesn’t matter where I am in the house, if the kids need anything they come and find me.  I could be in the shower, on the loo, putting washing out… they clearly forget there is another parent in the house to ask who doesn’t happen to be indisposed at that moment!

Why is it, on the rare occasion I go out on a night out with the girls, I get people ask me (usually men) if hubby is babysitting!  WTF! Babysitting! What parent babysits? Depending on how many I’ve had to drink will depend on my sarcastic answer! “Yes, I pay him £5 an hour!” to “No, he’s the Dad!”.  No way would anyone ask if I was home babysitting if it was the other way around so what’s that all about?

When I decide I’m going to have an early night, I need to plan ahead at least an hour before I want to get some shut eye.  Men, pretty much, simply go to bed.  Before I head up, I will always find a washing machine full of wet washing (shit), then a tumble dryer full of dry washing (shit), then realise its PE tomorrow and those elusive football socks have disappeared again (ffs!) oh yes, and the kids sandwiches are still not made! (Bollocks!). Early night my arse!

Now, I’m not going to lie, I’m not always the best person at remembering birthday cards.  It’s usually when everyone starts posting birthday wishes on timelines that I dash out and get a card/present and have to hand deliver it ! But what would happen if you left all the birthday cards to your other half… I dread to think! I know that at least three birthdays would be remembered… the rest? Not so much!

My hubby has learnt that he must never, EVER, ring during the morning school routine.  Unless you’re on a death wish dads, do not attempt it!

Weekend away?  Yes please you say… but before you go, do remember to account for every eventuality that might happen during the weekend.  This gets slightly better as the kids get older, but my point here is, Dad’s just pack their cases and go… fat chance we could ever do that!

Its the holidays… you’ve had the kids all day and you’ve just about managed to hold your shit together, although there has been plenty of two fingers up behind the fridge door and countless ‘for fcuk sakes’ muttered under your breath. However, for the past ten hours you’ve stuck it out.  Dad walks in and lasts about three minutes before he blows!  The only thing to do is crack open the wine… I mean, its sophisticated to have it with ‘dinner’ right?!

Men in general (not just our wonderful baby daddy’s) are a bit special though!  I mean, how bloody difficult is it to put the actual dish in the actual dishwasher? Placing it above it on the side really doesn’t count!!

And what on earth do they do on the toilet?  I’m not sure I really want to know the answer, but for the love of god lads, you’re taking the piss here! Do your bowels work differently from ours? No!!

Why is it that when Hubby kindly offers to got shopping, I’m running some kind of ‘shoppers helpline’? Seriously, just ask someone!

Why do men expect you to know the exact location of things?  If its gone missing, it’s assumed that I have obviously put it in a special place (sometimes I have, because its been left out for so sodding long) but in general, I’m meant to know the whereabouts of any specific item of clothing/shoes/keys!

Of course, most of this is said purely tongue in cheek and the men and dads in our lives are wonderful people.  Let’s face it, as much as they can be a pain in the butt, having control of all things ‘family’ is what we’re good at… and truth be told, we wouldn’t want it any other way!!

Until next time…. Love and hugs xxx