Some days I want to kill Alee. Through no fault of her own, but she just rings at the worst times. I’ve learned to put my phone on silent for fear it will ring right when Oakland has fallen asleep. I know from experience that this happens any time that I forget to flick that little button. Tonight I put Oakland to bed, and thought hey, I deserve my weekly hair washing treat. Alee was still at work, Oakalnd was asleep. The timing was perfect. The literal second that the water touched my head, my fucking phone began ringing. Of course I forgot to silence it. The second that my phone rang, Oakland began screaming through the baby monitor. That kid has the hearing of a tiger moth. So here I am, drenched, trying to decide WWJD? Well, Jesus would probably go tend to his children. But I didn’t. Judge me all you want but I was committed. I was going to wash my hair, uninterrupted. Then my phone rings again. It rang 4 more fucking times. Alee, chill, you can choose what to have for dinner without me, I trust you. Suddenly my dreamy, steamy little glass cocoon of bliss became a glass case of emotion. I did the ‘mum wash’. Basically, you throw all the products in your hair at one time and hope something good comes of it. At least I remembered to wash my armpits this time. It’s just been one of those weeks.
The other day I realised that I was going on day three of not showering. This alarmed me and then I wondered, how many times has this happened and I just haven’t actually realised? Probably a lot. Baby brain totally lingers after you’ve had a child. Then you also develop busy mum brain, where your thoughts are in about a million different places, like ‘have I changed my kid’s butt in the last 6 hours?’, ‘did I feed my kid breakfast today, or was that yesterday?’, ‘did I pack snacks, nappies, wipes, spare clothes and Xanax in the nappy bag?’, ‘did I make sure I spent quality time by reading them a book and singing nursery rhymes today?’ (yeah you did, remember when you had no choice because they threw their book on your lap while you were on the toilet this morning?) then you’ve got all the other mum shit to think about. Dishes, animals to feed, housework, laundry, paying bills, feeding your partner. Then there are mums that are also in paid work, trying to deal with all that, or like me, running your partner’s business from home.
The other morning I was doing something mum related, probably laundry, when I heard Oakland drumming on the wall in his bedroom. I wouldn’t have cared because this is pretty standard lately, except his drumsticks where on the table in front of me. So what the hell was he drumming with? I went in to assess the damage and somehow he had manage to rummage through random drawers and find the very same pregnancy tests that I had peed on years ago that told me I would be having him in 8 months. Here he was, a pee stick in each hand, bashing away on the walls in his room. I had no words. I was not even surprised that he would be doing something so random. So I just left him to it. If he breaks them, I still have the other 10 I used just to make sure they were not faulty.
It’s the kind of week where my child has developed an obsession with Sweet Escape by Gwen Stefani. We cannot get through bath time unless it is playing on repeat on my phone. Add to that he has decided dinners are not meant to be eaten at the table. No, they are to be eaten in the bath, while we rock out to Gwen. And you know what, if you drop your garlic bread in the water, it just makes it even yummier. Yep, I allow my child to eat handfuls of soggy garlic bread and I don’t bat an eye. I’ve also figured out that in order to get a toddler to eat at least some of their breakfast, you need to add a handful of Fruit Loops to their cereal to make it aesthetically pleasing, otherwise you are going to wind up with a bowl of Weetbix in your face. I had my eyelash extensions done a few days ago and as I lay there she was telling me how she was vegan and how her child doesn’t eat sugar. I was just kind of smiling awkwardly along with her while thinking fuck, please don’t ever come to my house and see what my kid eats then. But then I also secretly felt accomplished because I thought I was super clever that I figured the Fruit Loops trick out.
I guess we all just do what works for us. We can’t compare ourselves to other mums because no two kids are the same, no two mums are the same and no two days with a toddler are ever the same. Meanwhile, I will continue feeding my child soggy bath bread and sugary cereals if it means he actually eats at all.