>> Wednesday, 10 November 2010

Sometimes I get tired of being the voice of reason. Sometimes I look around me at others throwing their toys out of their playpen, both in the real and the virtual world, and I think, 'God yes, I know just what you mean. That is unreasonable behaviour, I'm not going to stand for it either and in fact I'm going to be pretty unreasonable myself until you damn well sit up and take notice.'

Sometimes I want to scream from the top of the house 'What about me? Sod your problems! Doesn't anyone want to hear what I think about this?'

Sometimes putting on a sensible happy voice, having a positive outlook, just stinks. Sometimes I want to hide under the duvet and, like my youngest son, refuse to come out until I know for certain that something good is happening today, that it doesn't involve a schedule, and that if I want to stay in my dressing gown until bedtime and play with my trains, I can.

Sometimes being the invisible woman at parties get right up my nose. Sometimes dealing with strangers' judgements of my life choices, of my current status as a stay at home mum drives me insane. Sometimes I hate myself for justifying those choices and qualifying them with 'but I also write / consult / do marketing projects'. Sometimes I just want what I say and who I am right here, right now, to be enough - for them, and me.

Sometimes being the one who has to think about the laundry, the shopping, making the school lunches and a million other domestic details is just too bloody boring for words. Sometimes all I want to do is put on a pair of killer heels, designer jeans and a cute jacket, go to a wine bar with my girlfriends and get pissed on white wine for the afternoon, before carrying on into the evening. Sometimes I want to behave disgracefully, giggle uproariously, tip the beer-goggle-attractive waiter handsomely, before going out to a night club eventually rolling home at 3am.

Sometimes I want to be able to get an unsuitable manicure in a colour that I know will show the tiniest chip and not care about it because, what the hell, I have time; I can get it redone again whenever I choose if that happens.

Sometimes I want to go out with my Husband and not have to get home in time to let the babysitter go at a reasonable hour. I want to walk hand in hand, snog on romantic embankments and unsuitable tube stations, spend wild weekends, and just enjoy being us without any of the white noise, distraction and flashes of 'how the fuck did I get here?' that come with being a grown-up leading a grown-up life.

Sometimes I want to walk into a clothes shop and not take two sizes into the changing room; the one that I managed to fit into for a week last year after a bout of food poisoning and the (larger) one that I will actually be able to zip up now.

Sometimes I want to read glossy magazines without paying particular attention to the features on ageing and how to non-surgically remedy crows-feet and frown lines. Sometimes I want to go to the hair-dressers and not see the grey hairs sprinkled amongst the brown on my shoulders.

Sometimes I don't want the best reflection of myself that I see all day to be the one in the mirror just before I put my contact lenses in.

Sometimes, the passage of time just pisses me off.

But then...

Then I stand up and walk away from laptop. I take a deep breath. I walk upstairs and look in at two perfectly-formed heads asleep on their pillows. I look at the life that my Husband and I have made together. And whilst it would be trite - and untrue - to say that the sight of them makes everything alright all the time, I know that if I had the chance to swap - them or him - for what once was, I wouldn't consider it even for a heartbeat.

(Although a decent manicure would be quite welcome - my nails are shocking...)

This has been a rare candid post from Potty Mummy. Normal shallow service to be resumed shortly.


Emily O 10 November 2010 at 19:31  

Love it, I couldn't agree more. But you know, when I was younger and had all those chances and did similar things they didn't seem like much at the time. I think parenthood feels like a hamster wheel at times and you just want to jump off, I know I do. But given an actual choice I wouldn't do things any differently. Good to vent it though isn't it?

Potty Mummy 10 November 2010 at 19:34  

Emily it is - and of course you're absolutely right. (But sometimes you just need to get these things off your chest!)

Iota 10 November 2010 at 21:13  

I'm having one of those afternoons too (that's what you get for having a girls' week-end in a big city without husband or children).

I would love to be stinking rich, own houses here, there and everywhere, have an army of servants, send everything to the dry cleaners, eat in restaurants whenever I felt like it, purchase extravagant presents for friends and famlily, and buy time with expensive therapists who'd ensure I didn't feel guilty. (Not really...)

Troutie 10 November 2010 at 21:49  

You know what pisses me off? That the difference between a man's BC/AC life (Before Children/After Children) life is not often so marked.

If we had a society that encouraged more equal parenting roles things would be so much better.

BC/AC are nearly always two separate lives for women. It's like asking whether you prefer champagne or perfume. They are entirely different; incomparable except for the fact that they are both liquids.

There is a difference between children and motherhood. I love my children but I loathe most aspects of motherhood.

Potty Mummy, I think you may have been the catalyst for a feminist rant over at mine! You've unleashed a beast!

Domestic Goddesque 10 November 2010 at 22:35  

Without wishing to go all Southern Baptist on you, "Amen, sister"!

Home Office Mum 11 November 2010 at 07:06  

This weekend I actually went and bought skinny jeans (which are so tight they cut off the circulation in my legs), a cat suit and what can only be described as 'fierce' high heeled shoes. Where I will wear these last two is anyone's guess. The school run? But I just had a moment, where being the wrinkly, greying, not very glamorous, altogether too mumsy me needed to be hidden behind my younger, pre-mummy self for a while.

PantsWithNames 11 November 2010 at 09:40  

Often feel like this. But I wouldn't change anything. Well, not that much... I do have to say, when my inlaws had the boys for the night and we could go out and do what we wanted, that was very nice indeed.

Think we should all get dressed up a la home office mum and meet up for an extraordinarily ridiculous night. With very high heels. And cocktails. (a la those US bloggers on their childless bloggy meet up weekend, how jealous am I???)

Sparx 11 November 2010 at 09:59  

I'm sure I'd want those things too if I ever had time to want anything for myself!

Home Office Mum 11 November 2010 at 10:26  

Pantswithnames, I would dearly love to see you in a catsuit right now, 11 days overdue. Perhaps we'd laugh so loud the baby would actually come out.

Potty Mummy 11 November 2010 at 12:40  

Iota, it's not that I'm envious of your weekend in Chicago or anything but... (flounces off in a huff)

Troutie, I can't wait to read it!

DG, no do, go all Southern Baptist!

HOM, a catsuit? Respect!

PWN, can I just echo HOM's remark about seeing you a catsuit 11 days overdue?

Sparx, and that's another thing! Time! Who stole mine?

nappy valley girl 11 November 2010 at 14:01  

Like Iota, I am on a complete come-down after that child-free weekend. This week the boys have two days off school, and I am finding trying to be the voice of reason more than a little challenging.

I find having a good girls' night out just once in a while extremely therapeutic, if I can organise it. Even just going to the cinema with a few friends and for a meal afterwards. It keeps me sane, really it does.

TheMadHouse 11 November 2010 at 20:40  

I have to say I am so with you on this one. I dont know if it is the time of the year or just being known as so and so's mum, it is driving me potty!

Potty Mummy 12 November 2010 at 07:22  

NVG, I can imagine - I would be too...

TMH - 'potty'? Did you say 'potty'? I knew I would be fashionable again sooner or later.

Jennifer Howze 12 November 2010 at 09:37  

Maybe I'm operating a little close to the edge, but this post actually made me feel a little teary. Sometimes I have a fantasty of checking into a hotel for a couple of days so everyone can do everything for themselves.

Muddling Along Mummy 12 November 2010 at 14:00  

Hugs - I couldn't agree more

My big challenge to myself recently has been to find ways to get little bits of that other life back - the biggest thing has been having a friend come over and do my nails once a month, I get a girlie gossip and pretty nails (and in silly colours because I know they don't last more than a few days) and even better its when the smalls are in bed so I don't have to worry about childcare. An option?

Metropolitan Mum 13 November 2010 at 23:02  

Having on of those days too. I think I want to go back to work. Now.

IT IS ALLY 19 November 2010 at 11:14  

The most unexpected - and the best - thing about this post is that I'm not a mum, but everything you've said still applies, and is something I can identify with! Thank you.

One day all of us girls in the corner should get together and throw a party, and we will wear ridiculous, fruity nail colours and drink cocktails with preposterous names and flirt with bartenders half our age, and it will blow the fancypants, pretentious cocktail partied out of the water.

And then, we will go home and tend to our various responsibilities...

But when that party happens, I would love to be invited.

This Mid 30s Life 19 November 2010 at 20:41  

Nothing to add except great post!

Post a Comment

Go on - you know you want to...

  © Blogger template Simple n' Sweet by 2009

Customised by Grayson Technology

Back to TOP