I think I’ve developed a very specific strain of split personality disorder. I’ve noticed recently that within an hour I can swing between the opposite ends of the Mummy scale.
The first hour of my day today went like this:
7am – Listen to G&H in their room awake, laughing and giggling with each other. Warm the milk, make a coffee. Bask in the glow of parenthood. (Joyful Mum)
7.10am – Go into their room and say good morning, only to be greeted with two expectant faces looking past me at the door and a lot of “Daddy? Daddy here?? DADDDDDYY???” (Unwanted Mum)
7.15am – They come into our bed and have their milk. They sit tucked under the duvet, next to each other, slurping away in an angelic fashion. One of my favourite moments of the day. (Blissfully happy Mum.)
7.20am – I attempt to get into the shower, whilst distracting them with Postman Pat on the TV. Milk discarded to drip all over the duvet they follow me to the shower and alternate between staring at me through the glass in a slightly unnerving manner and unraveling the loo roll. (Grumpy Mum – mostly grumpy at myself for not dragging myself out of bed early enough to have a shower before they get up.)
7.30am – I start to get dressed and they run and find me, socks, knickers and bra and present them each to me with enormous pride at their gifts, laughing and clapping. They remind me to take my shower cap off jumping up and down shouting “hat hat hat” and are totally enthralled at me brushing my teeth. (Happy Mum.)
7.40am – I change their nappies and get them dressed. H likes to shout a few reminders at me as we go along. “POOOO” “Clofes! Clofes!” “Cocks, cocks, Georgie COCK!” (Errr, socks she means.) G takes this opportunity of his sister being otherwise engaged to snaffle the rest of her milk. This is not going to be pretty. Whilst I’m wrestling a flailing G like an unweildly octopus to get his trousers on, H is screaming bloody blue murder as she discovers that the rest of her milk has mysteriously disappeared. I. Am. Frazzled. (Exasperated Mum.)
7.50am – We managed to co-ordinate getting down the stairs, they insist on holding each others’ hand and not letting go which makes the process slightly confusing but very cute. (Proud Mum).
7.55am – Walk out to get in the car to go to nursery. Despite my instructions to stand very still when they are on the driveway, a chase ensues around the perimeter of the car. We live on a busy main road and my nerves are actually shot as I run around after them trying to catch the little blighters. They divide and conquer and yet again I’ve been outsmarted by a pair of 2 year olds. (Bloody knackered Mum.)
8.00am – Get to nursery, shoes off, slippers on, hats off, coats off, hung up. G gives me a big kiss and flings his arms around me, whilst H waves frantically, “bye Mummy! Byeeeee!” and they toddle off to find their seats at breakfast. Oh how split personality Mum will miss you two today.
Please tell me I’m not the only one who has a million Mummy personalities (and the guilt that goes with it) during each day?