I am Snaughling Mum.

Posted in children, teacher, toddlers by Maria Rushe - Blogger and Writer

Snaughling…

Laughing so hard that you snort…then laughing that you snorted.
Snorting is for pigs, but sometimes, it happens to the best of us!

It isn’t the most gracious or ladylike thing to do, yet yesterday, I did it…in public.

So proud of myself was I after Wednesday’s achievement of getting Mini-Me to school, that I began to feel in control of things. You know? This Yummy Mummy was in charge again. I was no longer recovering from “the Section”. I was fully recovered. Fully. Physically and mentally. Completely and utterly in charge of my world again. Well, I thought I was.

Yesterday morning, leaving Princess snoring on top of Daddy, I dropped Mini-me to school again (Yay me!!) and went into town to run a few errands.
By 11.45am, I’d ticked off the to-do list, brought coffee home to Hubby, squeezed in a 2km power walk, grabbed a quick shower and had my eyebrows waxed! The sun was shining. It truly was a beautiful day, and I was indeed Supermum.

I drove back to the school to lift Mini-me at mid-day, full of the joys of January. On days like these, “I have Confidence in me” from The Sound of Music often pops into my head, and so I was singing to Princess (as loudly as only the privacy of your car allows) as I drove.

Pulling into the car park, I saw that the class were in the Playground. Double Yay! I was now able to drive up to the gate and collect Mini-me without having to disturb Princess, who was somehow sleeping despite the noise of my singing.

I stepped…no bounced…out of the car and waved at Mini-Me. Her little face lit up and she ran towards me, with a face full of happiness, shouting gleefullly “Maaaaaaaaammeeeeeee!!”

Screw The Sound of Music… this was a Little House on the bloody Prairie moment. All was right with the world.

And then.

I was greeted by Mini-me’s teacher. She’s chirpy and lovely in that infectious way that only a pre-school teacher can be. She was smiling at me. Yes. A little more than usual.

“Hi there!” she said. Were her lips twitching at the corners?
“Hi! How was she today?” I was obviously paranoid.
“Great! No bother!” I swear she’s trying not to laugh.

She puts her hand into her coat pocket, pulling out a little plastic bag.
I recognise the bag as the reserved for soiled pants type and think “Oh crap. She’s had a wee accident.” And I simultaneously remember that I forgot to put a spare pair in her bag. I’m expecting the “We had a wee accident. It’s OK, we found a spare pair in her drawer” line.

Instead I get “Did you dress her in the dark this morning?” Yup. She’s laughing. I’m not paranoid.

“No? Why?” My brain is now whizzing back through my perfect and productive Supermumesque morning. I’m replaying the dressing of the child and nothing is standing out to me as unusual. It was all pretty calm actually.

“She was wearing two pairs of pants!” laughs teacher, handing me the little plastic bag.

What? How was she wearing two pairs of pants? That’s just ridiculous.
But then Mini-me looks up at me and squeels “I had TWO pants on my butt. Silly Mammy!” She’s delighted with herself.

I’m horrified. This is not the kind of thing that I do. I’m in charge. I’m sensible. I’m completely organised thank you!

I feel my face turning pink. My full face now matches the two strips of pink on my freshly plucked eye-brows.
I look at Teacher, who is now giggling unapologetically…As is her colleague who has been cleaning a little boy’s nose beside us.

This is one of those moments that you read about in novels. It’s the type of moment that you cringe at; that makes you laugh at the silliness of the poor Mum, safe in the knowledge that it’ll never happen to you!

I was wondering how the hell to react, but before my brain could send a sensible reaction signal to the rest of my mortified body, I snaughled.

I threw my head back and laughed; then I snorted; then I laughed some more.
Teachers were laughing.
Mini Me was laughing.
I had spontaneously combusted and the embarrassment subsided as the hillarity of the situation became clear.
“At least her bottom was warm!” I managed.

I put the offending plastic bag in my pocket, said Goodbye to the teachers and set Mini-me into her carseat.
I vowed that I’ll have my coffee before I dress her in future.
It’s not a big deal. It’s hilarious. And at least the teachers were able to say it to me, rather than laugh about me behind my back. At least I didn’t send her out without pants!

There’s no greater feeling than a good laugh. And it’s even more refreshing when it’s completely at yourself! Even if I did snort!

And this little Piggy snaughled…all the way home.

I am Snaughling-Mum. xx

Follow S-Mum on Facebook https://m.facebook.com/Secretsofsmum

and on twitter @Maria_Rushe

2Jan2016

I am Smile-and-Nod Mum!

Posted in children, family, parenting, swear words, toddlers, Uncategorized by Maria Rushe - Blogger and Writer

People generally dislike swear words. There’s an unwritten rule that some swear words are worse than others.

The B-words are widely tolerated. The F-word…not so much. The C-word? Don’t even go there! Some words are acceptable. Some are simply not.

It’s like childbirth. It’s okay to say certain things to a new Mamma. And there are some things you SHOULD NEVER SAY…and yet people usually do.

On the other side of things, there are responses that new mammas would love to say out loud (usually with some of the aforementioned expletives carefully inserted!)…and yet they usually don’t.

So here are just a few such things that I’ve heard recently… to which mostly, my response was to politely smile/laugh/nod. But what I was really thinking usually contained expletives. Shock Horror!

“Oh you had a section?” (Usually accompanied by an expression of either sympathy or disapproval.) Yes. I had a section. It’s the most fun thing in the world ever! (*Sarcasm… see previous post “I am Section Mum.”
“How’s your scar healing?” Fabulously thank you. How’s your vagina doing?
“Sure the second section is much easier than the first.” Is it really? My body obviously didn’t get that particular memo.
“You shouldn’t be up and about so quickly.” OK. You’re so right. I’ll tell the toddler look after herself. What am I thinking!?
“Oh? You’re not breastfeeding?” (There’s that look again. Its becoming quite frequent.) No. I’ve made a decision to not give my baby the best start in life. I’m a selfish failure and I deserve your disapproval and judgement. Thanks for that.
“You’re not going back to the gym already surely? Sure there’s nothing wrong with you!” (Yep…there’s that look again!) Yes. I am, because I enjoy training and I want to. It’s as simple as that. Last week I actually replied “God yes. I need to lose at least 4 stone.” That’s an exaggeration, but it was worth it to see the look of disapproval morph into one of utter disgust.
“OMG! I didn’t expect to see you out so soon! You’re some Doll!” (Expression of disapproval added to at sight of very large glass of wine in my hand.) I’m so sorry if my decision to venture away from my baby for a few hours makes you uncomfortable. It actually took a lot of nerve, encouragement from Hubby and support of my friends to get here tonight… but all you see is the wine.
“Where’s the baby tonight?” At home with the Dog of course…where else?
You’re OK leaving the baby with her Daddy? (Yup…cue that expression again!) Erm… is this a trick question? YES!!! He is afterall, her Daddy? He did make half of her and he’s just as entitled to (Shock Horror!) look after her all by himself as I am!
“Is Daddy babysitting?” Noooooooo…. Daddy is looking after his daughters while Mammy does the shopping/has a coffee/pops to town for an hour. He is not hired or paid by the hour. I do not feel the need to leave snacks on the coffee table or to go through her routine before I leave. He’s as (Shock Horror!) able to care for her as I am.

I could go on.

Yes, most of these things were said with the greatest of good intentions, but still. They were said…in some cases by numerous people.

I’m sure I could add more. I’m sure many of you could add your own. It’s a terrible thing to be judged, (intentionally or not), especially by other mummies, but the easiest thing to do is to smile and nod and remember that you can say as many swear words in your head as you like, and no one can judge you for that!

I am Smile-and-Nod Mum.

7Oct2015

I am Streetlamp Mum

Posted in children, parenting, toddlers by Maria Rushe - Blogger and Writer

Oh to be able to see the extraordinary in the ordinary, without even trying.

On Saturday past, we received a last minute invitation to join friends for dinner. Now, while we usually try to have Mini-me tucked up in bed by 7.30pm, we’re also aware that she needs to have the odd night out of routine. We’re also very aware that in a few months time, we’ll be less able to make sporadic plans with a new-born in the house, so we gratefully replied to say “Absolutely! See you in an hour.”

We had a lovely evening. The kids played for hours, oblivious to bedtime passing. The adults ate and laughed and talked. It was bliss.

In true Cinderella style, just before midnight, we packed an exhausted threenager into her car seat. We assumed that she’d fall asleep and that Daddy would simply lift the Sleeping Beauty into the house and tuck her into bed in her clothes. We were wrong.

Because what we had never considered or anticipated was the absolute magic that the journey would present to her.

As we drove through the town, she began to gasp in awe. “Oh Daddy, I looooooooove them!” she announced.

We hadn’t a clue what was so exciting, until I looked around and saw her chubby little face illuminated by a streetlamp. Her eyes were popping out of her head and her jaw was quite literally on the floor.

“What do you love?” Daddy asked, still unsure of what was so amazing that it had warded off the snoozes.

“All the magic lights floating in the sky,” she replied. “They’re booootiful! I love them. What are they Daddy?”

“They’re streetlights Darling. They light up the town when it’s dark,” was his answer.

“Nooooooooo!! They’re magic lights from the fairies to guide us home. They’re floating lanterns like Tangled!” was her reply.

We agreed with her that of course the magical fairy lights were there to keep us safe and guide us home.

When we finally got home, our little Rapunzel was asleep before her head had properly settled into her pillow. We drank cups of tea, both pretty bemused by the cuteness of the whole conversation.

The reality was that because she’s always at home in bed by 7.30pm, she’s never been in town in the dark; well, not that she remembers anyway.

And she taught us a lesson. Because while Mammy and Daddy saw nothing but the familiar streetlamps along the town streets, if we had bothered, we could have seen something much more exciting and wonderful.

Through the eyes of a three year old, the industrial sized orange light-bulbs were actually the magical glow of the fairies who were lighting the road to make sure that our wee family made it home safely.

So while I like to think that I am good at seeing the extraordinary in the ordinary, I’m only a novice in comparison to Mini-me! But I’ll never look at the streetlamps in the same way again.

I wish I had her perspective of the world and I hope that Mini-Me always sees her world through her extraordinary little eyes.

I am Streetlamp Mum. 🙂

Follow S-Mum on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/Secretsofsmum

22Sep2015

I am So-it-begins Mum

Posted in parenting, toddlers by Maria Rushe - Blogger and Writer

We’ve reached week four of pre-school and all was going well, until this morning.

As I dropped Mini-Me off, her lovely teacher smiled at me, chirping “This is for you Mummy!” I took the piece of coloured card from her, thinking that it must be a note from the school about something that she needs or did. Thanking smiling teacher and waving goodbye to my little one, I left.

When I got to the car, I looked at the piece of card…it was a birthday invitation.

And so it begins.

My initial reaction was one of shock. This is the first invitation she’s received to a party that isn’t one of her cousins. And then it inspired a mixture of feelings inside this inexperienced Mummy that I still can’t quite describe. I was initially delighted and a little part of me felt smug that she’d been invited. Having been one of those kids who watched others getting invited to the cool kids’ parties, a part of me felt chuffed that my Princess was popular enough to be invited to a party after only a few weeks!

Then I laughed at my own stupidity as I remembered a friend telling me that the parents in her daughter’s pre-school invite ALL of the kiddies to ALL of the parties. Most likely, all of the parents had been handed the pretty pink card this morning. I was no different, I just happened to be the last parent to get mines…and that’s when the fear hit me.

There are 22 in her class. This lovely, kind parent, who is going to the bother of possibly inviting (and obviously paying for), ALL of the kiddies to meet up on Saturday to play, may have just started a class tradition. Or is it a dilemma?

Am I the only Mummy who thinks ahead to my daughter’s birthday in a few months and now panics? If this “invite the whole class” pressure is now mounted onto us as parents, how does one stop the spiral?

Because I know that I for one, can’t even imagine being responsible for having 22 toddlers in my care for an afternoon, never mind being able to afford to pay for a party for the full class. And then there is the fact that this number will be added to the 8 cousins and 6 baby-friends that have made up her first three birthday parties!

Add parents. Add Grandparents. Add aunties and uncles.

Add valium.

As children, my siblings and I were always allowed 3 or 4 of our best buddies from school to come home on the day of our birthday for a small party. I’d imagined that I would do the same for Mini-me when the time came. I didn’t anticipate it beginning in pre-school. I didn’t anticipate it happening so soon.

I thought that I had a few years to go before I had to be “that mummy” – you know the one who bucks the trend and stands her ground by not giving into playground politics? Yeah, that’ll be me. I thought. Now I’m not so sure.

I read a thread on a local Mummy page today where another new-to-this-craic Mummy asked advice on inviting her 6 year old’s full class to a party for her son. The responses appalled me.

All of them were saying that yes, the whole class is usually invited and that the basic expectations include village halls, gifts for all the kids so that no one is left out, bouncy castles and hot food.

The responses terrified me and made me really understand that I am bloody well clueless and that my notions of being “that mummy” might just catapult me (and in turn Mini-me) back into that abyss of unpopularity.

So yes, mixed emotions.

Looking at the lovely invitation, I recognised the beautifully scripted name as that of the little girl my Princess sits beside (and whom she talks about non stop, attributing the title Best Fwend to her daily). So yes, of course I will happily take her to the party. It’ll be lovely to meet a few of the other pre-school parents…she’ll be with this group of kids through national and probably secondary school after all.

And of course, it comes with the territory. But I will be hugely interested to see if only a few of the kiddies have been invited or if the whole class and their entourages do indeed, arrive in force.

If that’s the case, the panic will be founded. If not, I’ll sigh a huge sigh of relief and rest easy for another while.

I quickly took a snap of the invitation and sent it to Hubby. His first reply was “Aw, her first invitation”…followed two seconds later by “And so it begins!” The latter text had a laughing emoticon at the end. But we’ll see who is laughing when it’s our turn to send out the invitations.

I am So-it-begins Mum.

14Sep2015

I am Sleepy Mum

Posted in children, toddlers by Maria Rushe - Blogger and Writer

“I am vewy disappointed in your behaviour!”

These are the words that I heard through the baby monitor at around 3am. I heaved my backside out of bed and waddled across the hall to see who exactly had disappointed my threenager at this ridiculous hour.

Mini-me was sitting upright in her bed, having assembled her dollies and teddy bears around her and was wide awake and quite happily giving orders and giving out to her audience.

“Are you Ok Baby?” I asked carefully.

“I’m the teacher Mammy,” she announced as if this was perfectly acceptable behaviour in the middle of the night.

“Percy Penguin had to go in the naughty corner cos he’s been very cheeky and I’m very disappointed wif his behaviour.”

In the dim light from the hall, I could see that poor Percy was lying, fluffy arse up, in the toy box, having obviously been launched across the room by Teacher.

What had he done? Who knows, but it was enough to warrant his banishment to the dark side. And Mini-Me was determined that he deserved his punishment.

“Aw Poor Percy. Will Mammy lift him up to you again?” I ventured.

“No! He is not being a very good penguin!” she scolded.

“Okay, okay. Can you please go back to sleep now Honey? It’s the middle of the night.”

“But Mammy, I have to be the teacher!”

“You can be the teacher in the morning.”

You can imagine the rest of the conversation. As I sat at the bottom of the bed, begging her to go back to sleep, I struggled not to laugh at the utter determination on her face as she completely and truly believed everything that was taking place in her imagination. And yet, I couldn’t help but stare and smile at how utterly beautiful her innocent little face was in the nightlight. Everything that was happening in her mind was absolutely real to her. And if it hadn’t been the middle of the night, I would have encouraged it.

Since starting Pre-school, Little Miss Bossy Pants has been blossoming by the day. Her imagination has exploded from already very vivid, to absolutely crazy. She’s mimicking her lovely new teachers. She’s turned her teddybears into her “students”. Even though she’s never seen me in the classroom, she’s playing the “School teacher” in a way that maybe only the daughter of one, can.

She eventually went back to sleep. I eventually got back to my own bed. As shattered as I was, it was a relief that she was awake for such silly reasons. She wasn’t sick. She wasn’t having bad dreams and she wasn’t crying. So I had nothing to complain about. I drifted back to sleep, laughing to myself at the ridiculousness of the conversations one can have with a three year old at 4am.

Maybe she’s doing me a favour. Maybe she’s so clever that she’s easing Mammy into the world of sleepless nights again in preparation for Babba number 2? Or Maybe Percy was quite simply being a bold penguin.

Regardless of what exactly caused her to leave her dreams and wake up for full-on playtime at stupid o’clock, she bounced out of bed this morning and happily lifted Percy Penguin from his exile. Putting him back on the bed, she announced “Now, I hope you’ve learned your lesson Percy. I don’t want to see that behaviour again.” Whatever his crime, she hadn’t forgotten, but she’d forgiven him.

In the same way, as parents, we quickly forget the pain of being ripped from our sleep in the middle of the night as long as our little rascals are Ok.

But tonight, if she decides to play Teacher, I hope that Poor Percy behaves himself!

I am Sleepy Mum. 🙂

Follow S-Mum on Facebook

https://www.facebook.com/Secretsofsmum

The S-Mum

…the superbly honest blog of a Thoroughly Modern Mammy

Category Archives: toddlers