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Posts Tagged ‘children’

I’m tired.

It’s been one of those days.  Raining.  Windy.  At home for most of the day.  Kids sick of being cooped up.  Fighting constantly.  Me screeching at them to cut it out constantly.  And to top it all off, the trains are delayed so Ralph is late home.

I’m exhausted.

It’s days like this when I look at these rainbows-and-unicorns blog posts and think… you liar.  You goddamn liar.  Tell it like it really is.  Don’t delude people into believing that children’s farts smell like cookies and everything is all sparkles and magic.

It’s not.

Parenting is a marathon, interspersed by frequent bouts of full-pelt sprinting.  There’s no resting, no stations with water and oranges, nobody at the sidelines waving banners and screaming about how fantabulously awesome you are.  It’s just slog.  And sometimes… yeah, I’ll admit it, I resent it.  I sorely miss my pre-children days, when my time was my own, I wasn’t expected to be a referee, cook, housekeeper and source of all entertainment.  I miss the quiet and I miss not feeling a certain despair that I will never be able to recapture what was, that I’ll spend the rest of my days growling and being treated like a slave and playing 52-Pickup with all the plastic shit I really don’t want in my house but it makes the children happy, so there it is.

I love my children.  I really do.  And I don’t regret them… but there are times when I just feel so exhausted by them that I want to curl up in a ball and cry.  There are times I ask myself truly and honestly, why on God’s green Earth are we having another one?  If I can’t manage the two children I have, how in the hell am I going to cope with three?

I need a rest.

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“Next year,” I thought to myself some weeks ago, “I resolve to actually have a New Year’s Resolution.  But one that I have a chance of following through on.  It’s all well and good to resolve to lose weight or do pushups, but any idiot knows that I won’t be sticking to anything like that.  No, I need something that I can actually manage to maintain.  I know, I’ll resolve to blog again.  I can manage that.  Probably.”

And so here I am.

I was a frequent blogger some years ago, way back in the LiveJournal days, before I had children and life became so hectic that I neglected it for first weeks, then months at a time.  I still have that journal and still occasionally (very occasionally) update it, but I felt that a fresh start was probably necessary for this to really work.

There are two reasons for this.

Firstly, my LiveJournal is locked so that only other LJ users on my friends list can actually read it.  This becomes a problem for non-LJ users, but was necessary due to a complete sociopath who hopefully has gotten some serious counselling in the nearly ten years since we butted heads.  Utter fruit loop.  But I digress.

The second reason is my children.  I’m not sure of the shape that this blog will take – I’m not intentionally starting another ‘Mummy Blog’, although I’m sure it will closely resemble one on a fairly regular basis, simply because my children are the biggest part of my life – but when I am inevitably writing about my children and their antics, I want to use pseudonyms in case they Google themselves one day.  Or their friends do.  I can imagine the mortification of a fourteen-year-old boy as his mates find a story about him running naked down the street at age two.  At least a pseudonym makes them technically unsearchable in that way.

To that end, I will finalise this entry by introducing the main players.

Those of you who know me already know my name and the names of the members of my family, but in the interests of internet anonymity, I’m going to use pseudonyms on this blog.

There’s me.  The Author.  Original, no?  Well, it’s the best I can come up with right now.  I’m in my late twenties and I work part-time at a public high school attempting to teach science and mathematics to teens and tweens between the ages of eleven and sixteen.  I have been doing this in some capacity since 2007.  I usually enjoy it, although I won’t deny that I’ve been thoroughly dicked around by The Powers in the past as well.

I am the eldest of three children, and have a younger brother and sister.  My family remains nuclear.  Dull for blogging, but I’m not complaining about my parents still loving each other after nearly 31 years of marriage.

There’s him.  He’s my husband of nearly five years, and five years my senior.  I had no idea what to use for a pseudonym for him, so I looked around the internets for inspiration and found… a picture of Ralph Wiggum.

Hello, Ralph.  I might borrow your name for my other half.

Ralph is in his mid thirties, and works for a largish university.  He is the middle child of three, with an older brother and a younger sister.  His brother is married with two sons, and his parents are also still married to each other.  Too bad if you wanted a blog with step-drama, because there isn’t any anywhere here.  We are presently doing some serious work on the whole harmonious marriage thing after a recent issue, and seem to be managing quite well at not throttling each other at present, but that’s the only place where things might get a bit Jerry Springer.

There’s are our sons, But Why and Bamm-Bamm.

But Why is aWhy?lmost three and a half years old and is either the sweetest kid on Earth or a miniature moody hormonal adolescent, depending on his mood at the time.  He is a very serious, easily rattled and quite anal little fellow who has no ability to cope with not being able to do things perfectly, instantly (such as reading or writing, both of which he wants to learn how to do, but both of which he’s cracked it with many times).  He is also a very kind and considerate child, especially toward his little brother who exasperates him no end, though But Why adores Bamm-Bamm and vice versa.

But Why is capable of asking endless streams of seemingly unrelated questions, skipping from letter sounds to why planes are noisy and why do they have wheels and what is fire and why is it hot in a matter of minutes, and this is what suggested the pseudonym ‘But Why’ to me.  Talking to him is both exhilarating and exhausting.  He seems to be troubled by a lot, though, and I worry about him no end.

They're like twins!

Our younger son is Bamm-Bamm, a name chosen because he is what you would get if you threw Evel Knievel, Dennis the Menace and a giant teddy bear into a blender and blitzed them.  He even kind of looks like Bamm-Bamm…

Bamm-Bamm keeps us laughing, that’s for sure.  He’s a pocket rocket that’s into everything and has very strong opinions about everything.  At time of writing, he has just turned fifteen months old.  He has an impressive vocabulary for a child of his age (around 65 words at last count), and not surprisingly, along with words for things he likes (‘duck’, ‘car’, ‘food’, ‘brother’, ‘cracker’ etc.), he also has a reasonable repertoire of words to get what he wants (‘down’, ‘me’, ‘no’, ‘play’ etc.)

Then there are the cats.
He is Boof, a complete boofhead who is noisy, far too aggressive towards our other cat, and also a complete sook.  He has recently had surgery to remove an intestinal blockage caused by eating a balloon, of all things, and because he is too dumb to not do it again, balloons are now banned from our house.
She is Princess, a fluffy ginger tabby who is the gentlest most passive creature imaginable, who has a really bad habit of piddling on pretty much anything.  We suspect that she probably needs serious therapy.  Both of our cats are seven years old, and were adopted from a shelter in early March 2007.

At some point there may be another child, but so far, no.

The idea of this blog is just to write.  It won’t necessarily be the most brilliant stuff around, or even the most interesting thing you’ve read all day, but it’s a resolution that I actually have a chance of keeping.  If it’s been more than a week between entries, BUG ME.  Ask me a question or three.  We’ll see how well this resolution pans out.

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