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Days like these…

March 14, 2013

Some days you just feel like such a Bad Mother.  I’m currently sitting here covered in sick from son 2 (7 months old) who I kept feeding today.  He was hungry when we started but then I kept giving him food to see if he liked it.  It turned out that he did like it, but not in those sort of quantities. Poor chap.  

They have old fashioned washing powder here – none of your Persil gel tablets at the like.  Having thrown all the vommy clothes in the washing machine I thought I’d put an extra large mug of powder in the dispenser.  Flash forward 30 minutes and i was now shovelling the foam that was pouring out of the machine into the sink with the dustpan.  Son 1 came into the kitchen to sit on a set of steps and watch.  It’s good to be a source of entertainment.

Then there’s the toilet training.  Son 1 is nearly 3 and should, by now, be going to the toilet all on his lonesome.  But he’s not.  I’ve tried the old toilet training a couple of times and we’re now back in nappies. I’ve tried to work out why – whether it’s anything at all to do with son 1, but my conclusion is that it’s totally my fault: I just don’t fancy a house full of wee.  I know, I know, I’m trying to get over it. I also think I was duped by everyone. Son 1 speaks very well and so I was told that as his communication was good he’d potty train in no time at all.  So I thought I’d be done and dusted in an afternoon.  I genuinely did.  I’m such an idiot!  Anyway, H is away for a week for work, so I’m going to bite the bullet again, get the Dettol and Marigolds at the ready and just go for it.  Let’s face it – it’s got to happen sooner or later.  They don’t do nappies for 12 year olds.

 I’ve also come to the conclusion that I’m scared of health visitors.  Now, I’m not a timid person and generally I’m not overly fussed if people don’t like the way I do things.  However I have to make a humungous exception for The Health Visitor.  We have one here in Pakistan and, don’t get me wrong, she’s just lovely.  She’s very kind and has lots of good ideas, but it still doesn’t stop my getting horrendously tongue-tied and waffley as soon as we start talking about the boys. I think it’s all to do with the fact that as a mother you never quite think that you’re doing it right (see the paragraph on toilet training above for a prime example!).  Time for a large gin and tonic, a chill pill and to get those Big Boy Pants lined up for tomorrow morning…

Here it’s been raining all day and we even had hail.  It falls like marbles, and son 1 likes nothing better than to go out afterwards and collect them all in a box ‘to keep’.   He’s learning very quickly about the whole concept of melting. 


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