Where is my mind?

To be fair I wrote this when it had not stopped raining FOR EVER, and I am slowly regaining some brain function woohoo! but I thought you might like to see how brilliantly I was coping at the end of winter.

With colds and weather and sudden crazy annoying insomnia turning me into a zombie, I thought I should write a post regarding a rather embarrassing … problem of mine which is now worse than ever.

I am, to put it mildly, rubbish at finishing a sentence.

Now I will let you stew this over with an example.  I met a new Mum at the play ground and We were discussing the difference between my daughters, “One is pretty shy” I said, “the other is as chatty as a ……..”   That’s right, I stopped.  I made a point to stare hard at something of no importance behind the lady I was talking to, I checked my bag for a loose tic tac and I said nothing more, eyes averted.

I suspect it is because after having 3 kids, I have been interrupted for 99% of my conversations for the past 6 years.  I am so used to being cut off before I finish speaking that the part of my brain that stores witty turns of phrase has been replaced with some other garbage, like kids iceblock stick craft ideas from pinterest.

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Just as likely is the small machine purring away in the back of my mind, largely fuelled by guilt asking 50 questions a minute and often overrulling any other rational thought.  “Did I leave the iron on, of course not I haven’t ironed in weeks, I should really iron more, my poor husband, I wonder if she irons? Where did she get those shoes? does she have that style in other colours? why can’t I find the perfect flats? I haven’t washed my hair, I must look like a junkie, I hope I’m not scaring her off with my junkie attire, where the hell are the kids? should I be concerned? I really shouldn’t have yelled at my oldest for pouring out the cereal, am I too hard? do I need to do more homework with them? Did I feed them lunch? I forgot to pay that bill for that thing, I have got to stop buying coffees…”

On the plus side, My husband and I have started collecting some ridiculous made up words I have come up with, Also, having a quick search on the internet it looks like I’m not alone.

Now without googling too much (NEVER google too much) there are some helpful wee hints that I might have to try to defuzz the brain and retain a little dignity in social situations. This particular list is from a site encouragingly called “Am I losing my mind?” but I will sum it up in an achievable way for a Mum like me who has no time for excessive deprivation or commitment.

Omega 3 – Eat loads of lovely smoked salmon mmm

Sleep – Wear ear plugs.

Drink water – I’m lame enough to need one of those bottles with hourly drinking levels. I particularly like this blog detailing in several photos the clever crafty 12 step process to using a permanent marker on a bottle. see here

Drink Coffee – ok

Tumeric – I am like a child with tumeric, I will eat tumeric so long as someone else hides it in my meal without my knowledge

Laugh often – really, my kids are hilarious.

Manage your vices – My alcohol is beautifully managed thank you

Stay active – Aahh, well. My daughter likes to challenge me to a dance off whenever we argue.  I might have to start taking her up on that. I do have some pretty smooth moves.

collage els dancing

And the little one said is a boutique online children’s clothing, accessories, toys and home decor site run by two sisters with lots of kids between them and a love of all things beautiful.

 

 

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A geriatric mother

I had my third bub at the tender age of 43 and now a month off 45 (when did that creep up on me??) I find myself with an extremely active and rambunctious 15 month old little boy running around.  There is a fair bit of “Oh God I’m too old for this!” going on at the moment.

I know I am not the only one.  Of my Mums group with my first child (I was 36 so well above the national average of 29) I fitted somewhere in the middle age wise, and I wasn’t the only one to have a late third.  Some of the Mums I know at school are also well and truly in my age bracket, which is extremely comforting, although I fear by the time my third reaches school I am going to be found out a bit.  Those damn wrinkles.

Loved the medical practice’s attitude towards us oldies.  It’s bad enough that they put the frighteners on with horrible stats around miscarriage, high risk of twins (didn’t know that one!) and numerous chromosomal abnormalities, but to add insult to injury, I was called either a ‘geriatric mother’ or of ‘advanced maternal age’ on all the various forms.  Lovely.  Lots of extra tests are encouraged as you can imagine and it’s all quite a trial.  Makes you feel somewhat in the bad books for having the cheek to have a baby at such an ‘advanced’ age!  Sigh.  It’s not like we need reminding but thanks anyway.

So with my great age, must come wisdom (surely!?) so I thought i’d put together a short list outlining my experiences of being a, God forbid, ‘geriatric mother’.  Let me tell you third time around helps too ; )

Good news:

  • I soooo don’t care about keeping up with the Joneses.
  • I don’t have to worry about wearing any kind of short skirt or skimpy outfit – think mutton dressed as a lamb.  Comfortable (and dare I say somewhat daggy) is just fine by me.
  • Been there, done that.  Kinda of know what to expect third time around.
  • Poop, vomit, mess, general yuckiness does not throw me in the least.
  • There’s no panic if junior doesn’t eat what he’s given.  They’ll eventually eat, promise.
  • Organic?  Sorry, all to hard.  Whatever is in the fridge is just fine.
  • No such thing as a schedule.  He’ll just have to fit in.

Bad news:

  • The knees, hips, shoulders and back hurts where it shouldn’t.
  • Harder to bend down to pick up the numerous toys, containers, pots, pens, remotes etc, etc that get randomly thrown about.
  • COMPLETELY over going to the park.
  • I’m going to look ridiculous at the beach, park, school grounds wherever at 55 trying to play ball with my 10 year old.
  • I fit in at the school ok now, but when Mr 1 year old goes to school at 5 and a bit I am going to look (and lets be fair, I will actually be) ancient.
  • The kids have no appreciation at all for 80’s music and I don’t know any other kind.
  • Despite my general laziness to make any effort to ‘look the part’ I do in fact feel quite bad sometimes that I could do better (that particular term has been written on my report cards from school for as long as I can remember – that’s probably saying something).

Here’s an article in Scary Mommy on being an older Mum.  She’s got it pegged.

And the little one said is a boutique online children’s clothing, accessories, toys and home decor site run by two sisters with lots of kids between them and a love of all things beautiful.