All posts tagged: #motherhood

Welcome Home

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Arrived home from a childless weekend away to this front door of gorgeousness yesterday. Drawings, declarations of love, stickers, daisy chains…aaaaand a plastic centipede “to give you a big fright and make you scream loudly”.

Mini Chef

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Amy said she wanted to be in charge of dinner for her and Tilly, and had a great recipe she could talk me through. Amy: “So Mummy. First open a tin of cheesy raviolis. Then open a tin of macaroni and meatballs. Are you listening? Cos this is the tricky bit. Mix them TOGETHER IN A POT and heat them up. And then make a monkey cage out of cheese to put on top so it looks nice.” Me: “What about something green?” Amy: “Some frozen peas on the side. Don’t cook them, just put them in ramekins.” Now, do I file this meal under “dinners to make when I’ve no f*cks left to give” (which I draw inspiration from at least once a week), or under “dinners my kids will eat without crying”?

It’s first place or nothing

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So while I was stoked to still be standing upright, Amy cried actual tears over me not winning the Auckland half marathon on Sunday. The fact that I was never, ever going to come even remotely close to winning, and my (fleeting) joy at improving on last year’s time meant nothing to her. I gave her my participant’s medal as a jollying-up tactic, but she held it sadly and asked, “well who DID win?” I invented a quick story about a runner named Jonathan winning, who’d run lots of races (because I DON’T KNOW). She thought about it for a while, then morosely looked out the window and muttered, “well, I hope Jonathan got an actual trophy, and not just the same medal that you and all the other people who didn’t win got given”. Gee thanks, “Jonathan”, and the thousands of other runners who drank less wine, trained harder and ran faster…thus causing me to bring non-winning shame upon my family.

Spoiler alert: I won’t be winning it

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Amy while supervising as I sorted out my running kit: “So the half marrafon you’re running this weekend, is it the same one you did last year?” Me: “Yes, it is” Amy: “The one you didn’t win, but they gave you a medal anyway?” Me: “Well, er, no I didn’t win, but I was just really happy to finish it…” Amy: “Maybe try a bit harder this year, because it’d be better if you won.  If you DO win, I’ll do this cool dance and shout YAY MUMMY YOU WON! If you don’t win, I’ll just give you a sad cuddle.” *demonstrates cool dance vs. sad cuddle*

But is it ART?

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Heard a little voice saying “sowee, sowee, didn’t mean to!” and found Tilly pointing the remote control at the wall frantically pushing buttons, trying to erase all evidence of her wall art. Reason why girlfriends are awesome no. 6,784: I sent the photo to a message group I have with a few girlfriends and suggestions were bandied about, including installing a frame around it, covering it with the tv, or starting a small fire in that corner. My favorite feedback was from my mum-of-four friend (who has had her walls drawn on more times than your average hipster has ordered an organic almond milk fair-trade macchiato), who said “The fact that she’s doing circles at her age is very impressive. It’s pre-schematic. Such a smarty pants.” I don’t know what pre-schematic means, but it sounds more “University Scholarship” than “Juvenile Detention”, so let’s go with that. Either way, I’m recovering from my wall-scrubbing efforts with a  giant bowl of carbs and a side of saturated fat while Tilly watches Peppa Pig. Because nothing says “you’re a very naughty girl” …

Times are a-changin’

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Text message exchanges after boozy long weekend shenanigans used to say things like: “found a bra in the bushes out the front of our house, is it yours?” Now it’s more “you left your cake tin and two cooler bags behind, I’ll bring them to the girls’ ballet class this week”. Whatevs. The empties overflowing the recycling bin are of far better quality.