The Art of Playing Mummy

I sit at the kitchen table with some seriously drooping eyelids which are threatening to shut shop for an (unintentional) nanna nap despite my upright position, when I am jolted awake by two wailing Vicklets which threaten to break the decibels of sound. Double unhappiness leaks all at once here.

One squawks for food – the littlest one barely 7 months old who eats like a full grown man who threatens to run my pantry dry any hour now. The other, bigger in size and squawk, demands that I enter his imaginary supermarket area and purchase some “McDonalds”. It’s urgent apparently. The sky might collapse if I don’t purchase a pretend MSG filled piece of burger fat right NOW.

I think to myself I best attend to the hungry one, that seems like the right mummy thing to do. The fundamentals first right? Then again the bigger one is so piercingly loud with his demands and with a pot being threatened to be banged and thrown, I just dunno. Perhaps for all of our safety I should attend to the threenanger first. Yet the littlest has unleased his slasher grizzle…

They’re quite the duet these two Vicklets. You can bet your dollar on this: whichever way I move, it’s going to be wrong. It will appear I am ignoring one little person and unhappiness will rule the moment. I’m not sure how I can win.

My days seem to be a collection of these moment all strung together.

As I sit in the middle of this shit storm I wonder where are those people who said, very confidently, “oh it’ll be easier with two. For sure”.

Like for real??? I don’t know how their story went, but I see nothing easy about it. In fact I’d suggest that that statement was a whopping fib or a moment of complete forgetfulness.

Now I fear I am painting a very grim picture here especially for those who have just had their second or expecting number two. What I will say is this: becoming a parent for the second time for me has meant double the amount of housework and twice as less time to do it, constant refereeing, less breathing time, frequent cut the nonsense chats and time outs, little, very little sleep and less likelihood of getting out of the house and surviving happily. None of this is easy for me. It’s like constantly running the gauntlet. For those of you who have done or who do this with more than two, I think you’re some kind of miraculous goddess (do you have more than one set of hands?) and you may certainly laugh away at me for my waaahhh moment here.

BUT having a second baby has meant I have in many ways relaxed into my role as mumsies more. I’ve worn myself in. I have given myself over to the role with more willingness and acceptance. I spend less time doing Vicki things and more time on the little people in my world and I’m OK with that and I understand that it’s a have to kinda thing for the balance and happiness of my little families existence. If I want any glimpse of balance and harmony I need to be less selfish and more slave available. Indeed there is less time for lunchons and more time picking up half chewed soggy biscuits off the floor, less time wearing a slick frock and sipping cocktails and more time drinking invisible liquard from miniature plastic cups, less time admiring clothing and more time washing them, less intellectual conversations but more laughing, less anxiety about the little stuff and much more insanity flow and confidence, much (much) less sleep but so much more living.

With one child the duties where a chore and I had such a stubborn resistance to accepting and enjoying them. I was so stuck on staying my old self and held such a fear of losing me in the sea of motherhood that I couldn’t see who I was actually becoming and the richness of that growth.

Now I just am. I’m here, with two squawkers and that’s OK. It’s great even. I’ve grown up and I have been able to redefine myself and not fear that there has been losses in my character or what I can give or do. Old desires have dulled somewhat or they’re put on hold for if indeed I ever want to dabble in those past life priorities again. I suspect I may not but that’s a waiting game. Who I will be at the end of all this is something I can have no foresight about now.

Perhaps this grounded inner place is what those people where talking about.

If so, then yes in many ways parenting two is easier because I embrace me the mummy.

Besides, when I wake up in the morning I get twice the smiles and nothing can rival that.

live and learn

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14 Responses to The Art of Playing Mummy

  1. Aah dear. This is what I have to look forward to. I think the answer is “surrender”. A letting go and acceptance for an indefinate period. I don’t think happiness can be found any other way. Now how does one do that…by defeat probably.

  2. Annaleis says:

    Parenting can be hard with how ever many. I do find 2 easier to entertain now they are 4 and 6, but there is no way I would’ve said that when they were 7 months and just over 2! Those smiles do make it worth it

  3. Amy Little says:

    This is completely correct in every way! Where it was just good organising to get my hair done with one child. With two kids it gets done three times a year. And you accept and as beebo says ‘surrender’

  4. I have to agree with Bree, that the less I try to fight it the more unhappy we all are. But when Mummy just lets go and just is, that’s when the happiness flows.

  5. The transition from one to two, is in my mind the hardest one you will ever make. Even harder than three to four, because everything does double, and you kind of thought you had parenting sorted out. Having two you realise you actually know very little :)
    But it does get easier, and you will find your groove and be less worn down. And when you’re not, you eat toast for dinner and just go with whatever xxxx

    • Vicki says:

      I know right?? IT IS hard. Thanks for backing me up on that one. Good to hear it gets easier with time. Encouragement can never go astray. Thanks Jess xx

  6. Oh gorgeous I’ve been there and will take the goddess compliment you gave us multiple mums. BUT I do have some kinda wise words. Don’t fight it, yes you’ve lost your life, in fact consider it swallowed up by young children, but you will find your groove but it might take time. I know it sucks but you might just have to accept thing as they are for now, and get through the first year with two kids and THEN those stupid dorks who said it was easier with two might be kinda right. Once No.2 is walking, communicating and can play with No.1 then you get off the hook more, it does happen. This insanity doesn’t last forever, I wrote a post last week saying the work/life/family balance is a myth and it is. THERE IS NO FUGGING BALANCE! It’s a juggling act. But remember, do take time to be selfish, when they are asleep DO NOTHING, read a book, sit outside, forget the chores and smell the roses/coffee/wine :) It doesn’t really get easier, you just get used to it. HUGS HUGS and HUGS Vick xxxx

  7. I’m right with ya on this post. I have a 3.5 year old and a 11 month old that always want my attention and I have another on the way in July. I read this and think… thank goodness I’m not the only one who thinks this and then I think… crap, I’m going to add another to the mix. But after reading all the comments above, I agree, I have to let myself go for the moment and give myself to these young ones while they are young. By the time the littlest is two, we won’t know ourselves because they will hopefully being playing with each other and not needing mummy every minute of the day to entertain them. x

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