Before I start, lots of people seem to have been having a little look at my blog. I have no idea whether you’re enjoying it or not but thank you all the same! Please feel free to share if you like it. If you hate it maybe share with the folk you don’t like.
Anyway, back to it.
We all enter this parenthood malarky knowing that life will change and likely become more difficult. I don’t know about you but I wasn’t prepared for how difficult the little things would become, the things we take for granted.
Leaving the house
B.C all I needed to do was make sure I had my game face on, put on some shoes and a coat, grab a bag and leave. Now I have to chase Seth to get his shoes on him.
Ask Aoife to put her shoes on.
Wrestle Seth into his coat.
Ask Aoife to put her shoes on.
Manhandle and fold Seth into his buggy.
Ask Aoife to put her shoes and coat on.
Get my shoes & coat, make sure I’ve got spare nappies/snacks/clothes that are relevant to the trip.
Chase the cat to stop him running out of the house.
Send Aoife out.
Get Seth out.
Set alarm and finally leave.
No matter how early we start this farce we always end up leaving late.
One foot in front of the other you say? Couldn’t be more simple you say?
Seth is at the age where he really isn’t interested in being in his buggy. He wants to walk, every where all the time. As a compromise I let him walk the home stretch of the school run. Alas, it’s all uphill. Hills make me cross at the best of times so walking up one with a toddler doesn’t make my ‘Top 5 best things ever’ list.
I have to push the empty buggy with one hand whilst Seth attempts to remove my other from my body in an attempt to touch everything we pass, every wall, every lamppost, every car and more often than not every person. Then he starts to get tired and it’s like trying to walk uphill with one of those goats that faint everytime they are shocked (search fainting goats on Youtube, minutes of fun).
I have then have to pick him up and chase the buggy back down the hill (yes I could put the brakes on but my ninja quick rescue skills overtake that logic). Not only am I having to retrieve Seth and his buggy every 10 metres but I must do so whilst taking part in the ‘dog shit slalom’ trying to ensure that Seth’s every faceplant doesn’t land him straight into a massive turd.
Having a conversation
If I have the audacity to hold a conversation with anyone else in Aoife’s company there’s either the backing track of “mummy, mummy, mummy, mummy…” or very loud, tuneless singing until attention is diverted her way.
Phone calls these days go something like this
“Hello……Yes I’m fine thanks, how are – don’t pull all the DVDs out. Leave them alone -You? Have you had – get off me- no don’t put the truck in my face- no leave the phone, leave it – a good morning?
Oh that’s not too – get off the telly, Seth, do not push the telly over! – too bad.
Yes, he’s not napped – LEAVE THE CAT ALONE – he had just had – STOP PUSHING THE TV – had his lunch and now he’s – FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, SETH MAN WILL YOU GET OFF ME THAT HURTS – I’m going to have to go. I’ll see you tonightIt’s like I have a random tic.
Full conversations are impossible.
Popping to buy a pint of milk is no longer the simple task it once was. Aoife has to look at the plasters and the toothpaste and the ‘seasonal’ display. She is a marketing dream. Stick anything on a table in the middle of an aisle and she wants to buy it. Seth likes to stick his legs out, really stiff, in an attempt to sweep every item from the bottom shelf in the super market. If I leave him slightly too close to anything he will pull it off. No ifs no buts. It’s an absolute nightmare. This is why I shop at Waitrose now, not because I’m faux middle class but because the aisles are wider so I can dump Seth in the middle of one and get on with my shopping!
A.D (After delivery) sneezing.
You get me yeah?