It’s wake up time!!

Since my boy started high school, the funny episodes in the morning have slowed down considerably. It could be because hormones are turning him into a younger, male version of me, i.e grumpy, doesn’t do well in the mornings, hates sunlight… you understand.

I feel that I should illustrate the point.

A typical morning consists of me getting up only because Baby J is threatening to break glass with her good morning shrillness (to be fair, she doesn’t actually do this. She actually babbles quite sweetly in her cot for a bit and then says an enthusiastic ‘Hi!’ when she sees me. But the potential for shrillness is always there, at the back of my mind kicking me into action because at 5am that will hurt.)

It’s then all about the morning tea and coffee, which as I’ve mentioned in previous posts, sometimes involves a game of rock, paper, scissors but recently not so much as I just do it because I’m up anyway  - and I get brownie points

Then it’s onward to the deep dark depths of the boys room…

In his wisdom my darling husband decided that we needed to get our son a double bunk. That means it’s a bunk bed the size of a double bed. Uber cool for boys, utter crap for mothers. The main issue is I can’t physically get to him to drag his behind out of bed. He capitalises on this by hiding just out of reach (yes, I have poked him in the ear and tickled his nostrils before in an attempt to break through sleep fog. It doesn’t work, but it was fun to try. He has now subconsciously counteracts this by being millimetres too far for me to reach him without physically climbing the ladder – which is obviously not going to happen.)

A typical dialog will be like so.

“Morning!” (voice filled with sing-song-hate-inducing-carefully-cultivated sweetness perfected over time to elude the audio block that the male species uses to filter out most female voices)

“Iiiiiiiiit’s wake up time!” I say with gusto!

Nothing. Then amazingly.. ”mmmpftmmmppphumftah”

“What was that, dear?”

“Why? Why now??” says a voice from the bunk tower.

“Er, because it’s time to get up. You have school and you need to get ready.” I say helpfully.

“NOOO! COME ON, REALLY?” He bellows, and then because that took every last ounce of energy he’ll follow that with.. “I’m coming, I’m coming. 5 minutes…”

20 minutes later I’ll venture in again. By this time I’m not a happy bunny and it’s always the same three things that have ruined my day…

1. Oh no – he does NOT get to sleep in if I can’t
2. Damn, I forget to go call him again after 5 mins
3. I do not believe I actually thought he was going to get up.. IDIOT!

“BOY! I swear if you don’t get up now….” I start, when I get the classic line.

“Muuuuuuuuuuum, you don’t UNDERSTAND! You don’t know how HARD it is to get up. It’s not FAIR!!!!!’

It’s at roughly this time that I go to my happy place. And of course so does my son….

Stay at home, Mum

Since my last post, I have to say that my life did a little shimmy to the left with a kick in the crotch followed by Ta-Dah with jazz hands. In other words, while it hasn’t been all fun and games, sometimes it takes a jolt to reconfigure priorities and to get some perspective.

I left my job of 4 years, to be a full time mother for a while. I did try the part time thing for a bit after maternity but for one reason or another it didn’t work out. I have to say its weird, but it’s nice. I’m still getting used to it.

Of course focusing on the kids is a pleasure. It’s nice to feel like I’m actually doing something good. For years I’ve been dumping my son one place or another while I jump into the rat race for the day and then pick him up for scraps of time each evening. It was necessary at the time but life changes and I’ve changed. I don’t think I could have been happy then without work in my life, and now working was interrupting my life.

So what’s next? I can’t say that I will never work full time again, but if I do it will be on my terms for my families benefit, not on some bosses terms for their families benefit.

The double J noise duet

sssshhhhh!! Don’t move. Don’t breath. Not a sound if you please.
Both the kids are sleeping…

I can physically feel the happy spreading over me as I become the little old woman version of myself sitting here in silence listening to the morning bird song with a slightly moronic smile on my face. I feel no guilt that it makes me so happy that my children are so blissfully quiet. You have no idea how rare that is in my house.

J, my first born nutter is the personification of pure joy, and that isn’t a quiet thing. It’s amazing to watch him find joy in all that he does. Even if he’s been naughty and sent to his room, minutes later you hear him singing away. When he’s happy, his volume control button is automatically bust and immense amounts of booming voice, chatter, laughter and so on can be heard from here to the other side of town. I admit he drives me insane a lot of the time, because it’s so hard to make him take anything seriously. He is the human version of an excited Labrador.

My latest, Baby J, is the personification of a cuddle. She is a loving sweet little soul and if I could, I would have her in my arms all day. I don’t think she’d have a problem with that at all. She does of course also have her moments where she makes one heck of a noise such as if I take a bit too long to get the feed prepared or she’s lost her dummy or if she simply wants UP… now! She has some lungs on her when she really gives it all that.

And of course we are now into the Easter Holidays which means that the children combine to make one happy harmonious noise medley. So again I say to you… ssssssshhhh. Don’t move. Don’t breath. Not a sound if you please.