Mum Guilt
I haven't blogged since my eldest tyrant started school. Gosh that was an emotional time. He didn't even look back, he ran in with such enthusiasm, leaving me there looking around as a couple of kids were clinging onto their mummys or daddys for dear life. Of course I am glad that we had no issues, but sometimes I feel like he would like to live at school. I jest, I know he enjoys time with the family, but these days if we don't have an action-packed itinerary he will boldly declare his boredom. Usually followed by how he can't wait to go back to school. Mum guilt alert. Kids that want to be at school must have pretty shoddy parents, right?!
The only time our eldest hasn't complained about boredom since starting school, was when we went away to Corfu in the October half term. It was amazing to get away during the pandemic, but my, was the travelling a giant pain in the a***. Toddler tyrant caused some epic scenes on the flights, and whilst he was actually generally very good for a 20 month old whirlwind, he made me want to drink lots and lots of alcohol. When we landed back in the UK, we were waiting for our luggage and he was running at full speed around the baggage area and proceeded to ram his pushchair with such force into an unfortunate couple. Give me strength. Mum guilt alert- should've been paying better attention, maybe I should've had that drink anyway as I don't pay adequate attention!
I have this “rule” where I do not day drink around my kids, particularly when I am responsible for their well being, but mainly because I am a day drinking lightweight these days. If I have one drink before 5pm I usually want to go to bed during the day, or get absolutely bladdered and consequently have a hangover in excess of two days. Please note, that exceptions will be made for special occasions and particularly ones where my children are not with me. Anyway, we did have a fabulous time on holiday and I did manage to relax as much as one can with a toddler in tow. If we just had our (almost) 5 year old, it would've been (dare I say) relaxing for the majority of the time. It's a good job I don't really know what that feels like and actually I often feel weird when I don't have the kids to tend to and being out of our daily routine. We had so much fun with the boys, they loved the beaches, (well most of the time) and we are happy when they are. However, I did feel a pang of mum guilt when asked what was the most enjoyable part about the holiday. In my head I said “when the kids were in bed,” but fortunately I didn't actually say that. I have always enjoyed that moment before you eat and you are chilling out on the balcony and having a pre-dinner drink, or so I always have. We tried to do this on our holiday after the kids hit the sack. We ate out a couple of times early with the kids, but mainly got takeaway or did a picnic-typed dinner. It was wonderful to relax with my husband and beat him at card games. Much better than the usual dinner and TV combo at home. Also, re: mum guilt, I found toddler tyrant to be particularly tricky on days out. We found an awesome beach and my husband and eldest went for a walk and bought buckets and spades. Toddler tyrant was having the most epic of meltdowns because he wanted to be in the car. He didn't want to dig holes, bury his brother, play in the sea or do anything fun like that, he wanted to pretend he was driving the hire car!!! So eventually we gave up and went for some food where the children could play in a little playground, which was part of the cafe. It was ideal until toddler tyrant could see the car and he had a smaller version of the beach meltdown. This is why sometimes a gin in peace playing cards is the best part of the holiday!
I am about to share something that may be fairly disturbing to the average person, for which I apologise. Ages ago, my eldest asked me what my lady-parts were called. For some reason unbeknown to myself, I said “foo-foo,” it seemed better than other words used for it, despite never ever using the word/reference myself. He was quite young when I told him and I thought he would forget about it, he NEVER did. To this day, this is what he says and everything from poo, willies, bum, pump, trump, is hilarious to him at the moment. I don't know why, but he asked about my foo-foo recently and some how I ended up telling him that babies come out of there. WTF. What is wrong with me. He was initially appalled, perhaps disgusted and then he thought it was the funniest thing in the entire world. I was putting him to bed that night and he was re-enacting the birth of himself between my legs. What the actual f***. Why did I tell him this, what is wrong with me?! I begged him to not tell his friends and I really hope he doesn't. Can you imagine the call from school if he gets in trouble. He also then worked out that I came out of Grandma's “foo-foo” and so on. Why oh why?! Epic mum guilt for any other child my child may tell about this. SORRY.
So I suppose I will end this rather honest and somewhat disturbing blog with why I feel my son must love school more than home. He declared he wanted to live at school after watching Harry Potter. Go for it. Boarding school here you come. Within a month of starting school he said how much he likes his teacher and how she is far nicer than me. “MUCH nicer!” Cheers mate. HOWEVER, he said I was younger, and I think I must be around 10 years older. Whoop! I am an evil mother albeit with a youthful glow. I'll take that. P.s. Mum guilt can kiss my a***
