Two kids … a walk in the park they said!
August 2018
Dear Diary
So here’s the thing… two kids… oh shit – the one has just shat in the garden and now screaming its pip off… will be back.
February 2019
Dear Diary
Aaaaaaand I’m back. Where was I …
Two kids.
Picture yourself about to embark on the Comrades Marathon. You have trained, running-fit (so to speak), you think you know what you are in for and you feel prepared because you have all the gear.
Gun goes off and you hit the ground running. Confident. As. Eff.
And then a few kms in, the wheels fall off the bus:
- Your hairband breaks so your hair starts sticking to the back of your neck (it’s greasy obviously because you haven’t had time to wash it properly since the first kid).
- You have forgotten to take your tight nylon jersey off because when you started you were wearing it as a dudu-blankie and it is now reaching midday heat and you have nowhere to put the f*cking thing.
- You have blisters because, for the life of you, you can’t remember most of the tricks for keeping your tekkies from rubbing and of course…
- You are just f*cking exhausted, at times delirious, and waaaay too unfit for this.
I know we have mentioned this before but most parents find the newborn the easy one. It is hands down the first born that shows you what they are made of and gives you a total run for your money. You spend so much time saying “what’s gotten into this kid – she/he NEVER used to be like this” … their sibling has “gotten into this kid” and they are most likely hitting the terrible twos, teeth or something equally as terrifying.
A mate of ours told us that we need to consider what the first born feels about this new little turd up in their grill. She says it is like your hubcap bringing home another chick and saying “Hi team, sooo this is Suuusan. She’s coming to liiiive with us. She’s new so we need to make sure she feels at home. She’ll be eating between us, sleeping between us and I will have to attend to you second because Susan is hot and happening at the mo so sit tight homie.”
Now a sound adult mind would be like: “Suzzzzie!! Thank eff you are here. Wingman time guuuurl. Let’s tag team this shit. An extra pair of hands, feet and boobs. Susan, you get the first one and I’ll get the second and if you wouldn’t mind hooking a sister up and taking the night shifts that would be sick. And the hubster … well … we can go halvies. Stoooked you are here home-slice!”.
Toddler be like… “Susan … WTAF. You are SO small and SO useless and you make such a blady noise. I can totally see that my parents don’t dig you for shit. I saw my mom nearly shake you the other day because you wouldn’t shut the eff up and my dad keeps whispering words like “brother ducking kids” under his breath. Susan, I don’t think it is a good idea that you stay here. Move on gurl, otherwise I will show how wild this circus can get!”.
Aaaaaah the things we do for kids. “Baby… this is your sibling – a special homegrown bestie for you. I made this for YOU!” (100% not to suck up hours of my nightly cat naps or mere minutes of freedom).
The best bit is when you realise that you have forgotten all the ‘dos and don’ts’ and you are just balls deep in survival mode. Most of the time, I’m thinking – wooow we wasted SO much energy worrying about half the stuff we did with the first one!
Your hubcap is also experiencing what you had round one and is mourning the loss of his freedom, independence, social life and days where he could hang tits and lie in. Gone b*tches … gone. So naturally your marriage starts to take the heat because everyone is elbows deep in nappies, crying children and general assholery.
We have two things to say on the matter. Firstly, acceptance is key! You will never, in all your life, need this piece of advice as much as you do now while you plunge into the abyss of small, unreasonable human beings. You need to accept that your kids are not going to be the same and the second will 100% surprise you with contradictory behaviour. Genetics are strong and Karma is a total a-hole so she is coming for you if she didn’t get to your house round one. Aaaand if you can accept this and take it day by day, let your hair down and run like no-one is watching – you will give fewer shits, be more confident and take those suckers down… your children that is – Genetics and Karma will always take you down… EVERY TIME!
The second thing is to ALWAYS remember not to let them divide and conquer. Leaders have effed up whole countries this way so you will manage with your little village. Your partner HAS to be your sidekick otherwise you are dead in the water. You 100% won’t wax this most of the time because it is easier to throw verbal abuse at your hubby than admit that your kids are just being plain assholes but you need to work harder than you have ever before on your marriage. If you can put your head down with this, you will come out the other side of it kicking and screaming.
Channel your rage, resentment and/or sadness (the dark days) into something kiff like running or yoga, makeup on your face, buy something online or chocolate – something just for you. Start a WhatsApp group with tighties (who don’t judge!) and post inappropriate, and often hysterical, comments about being a mom, your children and your hubby – this will make you feel not so alone. And if you can, read something that makes you laugh. You actually won’t believe how much better it is to cope with two kids when you can laugh at them … and yourself.
Our second born, doesn’t sleep for shit and he is already 16 months old. Every 3 days, since the beginning of the dark hours (8 months or so when the effing teeth started to show face), my hubby and I have sat down and tried to regroup. We try and say things we really like about each other – you should try it. Most of the time it is stuff like, “You have really nice taste in music”, “Your pants don’t look so tight on you today” or “Did you get a few extra seconds to brush the one side of your hair – looks good!” … that will do pig … that will do! As long as you are trying everything in your power to get back to the place of liking each other; you are on the home stretch.
** That bugger doesn’t actually read our blogs but just incase he does … I REALLY STILL LOVE MY HUBBY and we are at such a good place at the moment; smiling and greeting each other as we walk past in the passage, too afraid to touch in case we make another baby! but the the love has returned. Hard work – trying desperately to tick all the Love Language boxes for each other, and perseverance – every third day, throwing small compliments at each other and we seem to have survived phase 1 of the many phases to come.
And of course, our children (**for when they learn to read) … we love you so much it blady hurts and all the teasing and laughter and whispers of “you little a-holes” is all in the coping with how much we have had to sacrifice to have you in this world but oh my sack was it worth it!
Other than that folks… two kids… a blady walk in the park.
The light does come, or so we’re told!
It is a f*ck sh*t kinda day
This goes out to all my hommies who are having a mare of a week trying to juggle life at the moment. Mother f*cker this has been heckies. I am currently hiding up stairs from my kids, having been out this morning in my kiff high-waisted jeans covered in child mush and my pajama top, which has a smudge of some kind … here’s to hoping it is Bovril!
I should have known the mothering gods where against me this morning when my boy child twisted like a seal doing tricks at Ushaka Marine World, during a nappy change. He spun borsha (poo) in all directions; covering himself in it, my white ‘Mrs’ gown (white … stupid, stupid, stupid colour to own with children) and the floor. I was mock charging for the A-team and pulling wet wipes out of the packet at a pace that would have made Lewis Hamilton proud. I could not get to it fast enough as the little bastard crawled off and smudged his way to the door. It made me so sad! F*ck.
I am balls deep in graft too so the mothering guilt is so fierce at the moment. Today, I thought I would take a little time out with the rats, take the girl child for a beaut activity to see her little mate and the boy one swimming. Look, this isn’t my first rodeo with a one part parent and two part kid activity so I don’t know why I thought the mission would be successful … Expectations … the thing that shaft us as mothers.
The girl one threw a major tantrum. The boy one cried; teething, the sister giving it stick and over-tired. Teeeeeeeth – total design flaw. WTF. Just come out already – I know we need you because we can’t gum our way through the rest of our lives but jeeeez you are not the f*cking Royal Family that need to make such a long winded entrance into the mouth of a child that can’t speak English yet, to communicate that all they need is a hit of Calpol or that they are hungry or that their bum is itchy. Just when we thought we could get a grip on life … teeth. When we thought we could sleep again … teeth. When we thought there was a glimpse of our personalities returning … teeth.
If I was ever asked to brand ‘new teeth’, I would 100% make the logo an asshole and the catch phrase would be “Teeth … kicking mothers back into line since … well the beginning of time!”.
Don’t even get me started on a two year old. I have no energy to put into words this time. I’m sitting at my computer for the second time today (the first was at 3am – 5am this morning to try and get some stuff done) with siff greasy hair, still in my pajama top and just had a peak at my underarms … not pretty!
I think if I had to narrow it down for the girl one it would probably be the high pitched shrieking and whining that sends me so far over the edge that there is sometimes no return.
Needless to say, I didn’t make it to swimming because the boy child face planted on some stones, the girl one was just generally offended by life and I am so eggies (exhausted that the thought of being in a costume, trying to suck in my mom boep and tuck away the ol’spiders (fanny hair; for those of you who are also too tired to think about what I am talking about) … I just couldn’t be arsed!
So for those of you who are feeling like this is a real FS kinda day – let it all hang out sisters; we’ll get it together eventually! More is nog ‘n dag and we can start again then. Head down and we will converse again soon when I have washed my hair, shaved my pits and changed my shirt. #sosiffrightnow