When I was pregnant with The One Who Changed Everything I read a memoir by Isabel Allende called Paula, written about her daughter. Until I read the book I’d been in massive ‘motherhood won’t change me’ denial about my gal’s impending birth, but I knew afterwards that I was about to embark on a life changing journey. After an exhausting start, a little girl called V opened me up to the beauty and joy and suffering in the world, she showed me the way.
Happy 17th birthday Vee-Yon-Say, so glad I am your mama. Thank you for your wisdom, your light and your humour. I know I am the Eddy to your Saffy, I love you smarty pants
Flowers, chocolates, cards, a new house and a new car, my kids know how to spoil me on Mother’s Day, but apparently today they forgot what I really like so they got me some soap. And candles so that my cheeky youngest child, who is a trainee fire starter, can melt wax all over the house. Joy. And as it is Mother’s Day I am supposed to smile sweetly and be grateful and pretend that it doesn’t bother me, otherwise in a few years they will relocate me to a home for the bewildered that plays Phil Collins songs all day. Sigh. Motherhood is so glamorous and exciting isn’t it? Rest up today mamas, it’s going to be a big year
My single mothering advice is gold, I am full of it. Don’t worry about buying expensive parenting books, for calm children administer nursery rhymes, they are cheaper than sedatives (for you and the kids).
If you see a little bunny and it’s nose is very runny
You think it’s very funny but it’s snot.
Lou Lou had a little girl, she had a bit of colic
She fed her vodka twice a day, now she’s alcoholic
If your children won’t stop crying, sing:
Roses are red, violets are blue, the smell of vomit reminds me of you.
Or what about?
My hair is alive with the bite of head lice
There were three in the bed and the little one said,
Roll over, roll over
So they all rolled over and my feet got cold
Roll over, rollover my super, walk the dog, defrost the freezer, feel guilty about the stuff you haven’t done. Roll over, play dead so you don’t have to change a nappy roll over.
Hey Diddle Diddle, my life’s in a puddle I can’t seem to get enough cash.
My kids need more food, but the rent is due so I can’t afford to splash.
I’ve spent all my dosh on school clothes and books and treated kids to some honey,
Luckily their father has a conscience, here comes my ex with lots of money
No stop me! That one is pure fantasy
Roses are red,
My teenage daughter’s bedroom smells
Not that I care,
But I could if I wanted to
In late 2001 I was pregnant with my second daughter and I went to have an ultrasound. I’ll never forget the words of the sonographer who looked at the images of my tiny girl on the screen and said, “What a beautiful baby.” Yes, she is, inside and out. Happy 12th birthday, my gorgeous horse daughter Moo. I love you.
On International Women’s Day I’m thinking that I’d love to be Emmeline Pankhurst in pearls fighting for equality for all women but I’m a little bit busy hanging out the washing and bringing home the bacon to feed three hungry mouths. So I’d like to say thank you to the ladies who are childless for maintaining the revolution so this mother of three daughters can raise them knowing that the sisterhood is striving to make our world fair. Whether you chose not to be a breeder, or you had the choice taken from you by fate or circumstance, I’m grateful for the work you’re doing. I believe childless women are desperately needed to fight for equality by us sleep deprived mothers who’ve temporarily lost our brain power because we’re helping finish homework. Thank you for organising the petitions, running the rallies, writing the articles, alerting me to them on Twitter and for keeping watch while this mother bakes. Sisters I will join you at the barricades as soon as I can find a cheap babysitter.
“Though we adore men individually, we agree that as a group they’re rather stupid…”
Only 10 days to go until my delinquent children go back to the maximum security prison I’ve chosen for them. Mothers, if you’re looking for something to fill the remaining days of torture, no, I mean happiness, I believe that staycations are currently popular. Or as single mothers call them, staying at home because it’s all we can bloody afford. So my kids and I are on trend. Travelling with kids and pets is just moving the chaos and mess to another more expensive location anyway. Or you could try going on a cheap holiday with another single parent; boozing, gatecrashing other people’s parties at the park for food and losing your children at an unfamiliar shopping centre are standard single mother school holiday adventures.
If, like me, the thought of camping makes you dry retch, borrow a tent from a friend and pitch it in the back yard for your kids or even the front nature strip if you live in an apartment. In summer kids can live in a tent for months at a time. Think about this: the money you save on holidays can go towards a cleaner, so you can continue to be a dirty house mother.
The long summer holidays can often look like this: extra kids, 3 broken eggs, 2 sleep ins, 7 old movies watched 100 times, 3 shopping expeditions to the two dollar shop, 3 weeks, sorry, days spent wearing pyjamas, 8 play dates, 37 cupcakes, 15 burnt offerings, dog eared books, hundreds of sighs and ‘I’m-so-bored’s’, 12 paintings that the landlord will want you to remove before you get your bond back, and one over-medicated, cranky, over-tired mother. On the last day of the school holidays, I will have a picnic to celebrate the end of summer, if you can call a bottle of riesling a picnic.