I just read Potty's latest post and something in her Mother's Day wish list really resonated. Not to have to make decisions... You can have all the chocolates, flowers, cards, cups of tea made for you in the world - but for me THIS really stands out as the ultimate Mother's Day treat.
Not having to decide what to cook. Not having to cook it. Not having to pick out clothes. Not having to clean teeth, wipe faces, wipe bottoms, pick up endless clothes. Just one day of not having to do any of these things. Not even having to think about them.
It's that time of year when I pore longingly over the travel section of the weekend papers, wistfully eyeing up the luxury 5 star Caribbean resorts or destination spas and wishing oh wishing that we had all the money in the world to just book a cheeky little week away without the kids. I do the maths on my fingers... "two of us for a week during term time would be xyz... could we get away with it????"
And then I wake up - BANG - and I'm sitting in my kitchen in Shepherds Bush with one small child wrapped around my neck and the other screaming 'MUUUUUUUMMMMMMMYYYYYYYY' in my face and I think to myself "what were you thinking you crazy woman.. who's going to deal with all of THIS?"
I am tired. I am weary. And it's only March. This morning I made a shepherds pie for lunch - left it in the oven.. Left the peas on to boil. Left the plates out and cutlery. I then went off for two hours to have my hair cut.
Bliss.
I arrived home. All was quiet. All three of my brood curled up together watching Kung Fu Panda, looking very adorable. All felt calm and well...
...until I went into the kitchen. Where, a proverbial bomb had gone off. I was starving but there was not an inch of surface space or floor space that wasn't covered in stray escapee peas or smears of shepherds pie. Ketchup coated the table. Yoghurt pots tipped over with the spoons on the floor. Water everywhere. Dirty plates stacked haphazardly. All the pots and pans stacked in the sink. I could not move for mess.
So half an hour later, my post-haircut blissful calm obliterated, I finally get out the sliced bread to make the inevitable cheese and ham sandwich which is all I can manage having cooked lunch already for everyone else.
And then at 5pm - it all starts again. "What's for supper Mum?"
And then at 7pm - it all starts again. "What's for dinner Darling?"
And round and round and round we go..
Know what I mean?
This post was written by Bush Mummy who blogs at The Bush Babies. She is 37, bonde, and very happily married to the most wonderful man in the world...
Photo credit: delvie
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