Mother's Day

So it’s Mother’s Day in South Africa on Sunday, which is a good thing for my husband, as the English Mother’s Day, which naturally I felt I qualified for, passed unnoticed by him. All is not lost – this weekend he gets a second chance. I think he is now clear that he is expected to act on behalf of his sons. So having prepared the ground, my thoughts naturally turn to the potential gifts I might receive. I browse the shop windows in anticipation. But I am horrified to find that mothers apparently want old women’s slippers, thick, pink towelled dressing gowns (with spots on), hot water bottles and plants. South African shops have taken chauvinism to a new level. Hardly seems worth the ear-ribbing my husband got for failing to deliver on the first Mother’s Day. I think I would rather he forgot it than spent an afternoon selecting an assortment of tea towels (or as the ad I keep hearing on the radio jokes – a packet of washing powder cos mums love laundry…). Since when does being a mother equate with being dull, old and obsessed with housework? Honestly, all I want for Mother’s Day is something that says WE LOVE YOU MUM. Why is that so difficult? 

Double Trouble

So, my first blog entry. Let me introduce myself. I’m Laura, mother of 2 wonderful boys, one of 2 years and the other of 7 weeks. Until a few months ago I was living in Syria, but that has all changed and I find myself at the age of 30 back in London squatting in my parents’ flat with my growing brood.

This blog is about my experiences of motherhood. When I had my first child, the world was turned upside down. I felt everything had to be put on hold to focus on this incredible new responsibility. With the birth of my second, I now realise that my initial strategy was flawed. It doesn’t matter how old the children are, they will take over your life. And with house prices and student debt the way they are my children will probably also be living with me when they are 30. So whatever the obstacles, you must attempt to continue with your life. Otherwise you will drown in nappies and lego. Hence this blog, - an attempt to reminisce with my former self, and connect with other parents who know what it’s like to do a jigsaw, cook dinner and rock a baby to sleep at the same time.

My observations on moving from mother of one to mother of two:

1.     It is no longer possible to drink coffee on the move. However you package up your two children, the cup will always be directly over the baby’s head.

2.     The space between two car seats is not big enough to fit a post-pregnancy behind. Nevertheless you will still spend part of each journey squeezed into it.

3.     You cannot control everything, so you will be much happier if you don’t try (although the man who got his coat watered at a garden party we attended the other day may beg to differ).

4.     You can breastfeed a baby strapped into a car seat, you just need a strong back.

5.     Sleep is not an entitlement, it is a treat. You should not expect it, and be grateful for whatever you get. Be aware (dads) that being asleep whilst the children are not is criminal.  Life is better if both parents understand this from the beginning.

6.     Despite the growing complexity of any simple outing, you will pack your children into a hot car to sit in a traffic jam on a sunny Sunday afternoon, because if you don’t you might never go anywhere again. The 5 ½ hours in the car are clearly worth it for the 5 minute chat you manage to squeeze between feeding/cleaning children.

7.     TV, and in particular, portable DVD players are life-saving inventions.