Today, I Got To Be Me

Here I am, at 10pm, sitting with a warm feeling in my heart. I have an overwhelming urge to acknowledge all of the wonderful people in my life. I want to thank each and every friend who has made an impact on my life. I want to hug and kiss my husband and kids. I feel like crying, I’m so overwhelmed.

No, I’m not drunk. Even Mr T asked me if I’d snuck a sneaky cider.

No. I’m just really, really happy.

Today, I got to be me.

I got a rare chance to be Mrs T. Not Princess’s Mum. Not BoyChild’s Mum. Not BabyGirl’s Mum. I got to be me.

And it was amazing.

This morning I got up after a rotten sleep (thanks to Princess thinking 4am was a good time to get up and listen to YouTube videos on full volume. Plot twist. It’s not.) and got dressed, and showered. Then my good friend came over and we went out together. Just her and I. No kids. We went to the mall and met up with two other friends and had a kid free coffee. One friend actually brought her son along, but that was 100% ok, because he wasn’t my kid. I even happily carried him around. Because I’m not his mum.

After our coffee we had a look in some shops. And then, still only mid morning, we went home.

After doing some housework at home and playing with the younger kids, I got dressed up to go to work. Due to the nature of my job, work doesn’t come along much in the Autumn/Winter seasons, so today was a rare change. I put on my nice dress, did my hair and makeup, kissed my kids and husband goodbye, and went out.

I had an hour to kill once I’d finished work, so I went shopping. By myself. I took my time. I walked slowly. Granted, I was buying a gift for a birthday party we are going to on Sunday, but still.

At 5pm, I was in the city, waiting for a good friend to finish work. We went to a bar together, to have a drink and catch up, as it has been months since we last met up. We drank (her – bourbon, me – lemonade), we talked, we laughed and we just enjoyed each others company.

Becoming aware of the time, I reluctantly excused myself, hugged my friend goodbye and made my way home. During the 45 minute drive home, I thought a lot about my life. And I sung loudly to songs from the 90s.

When I got home, I came inside to a warm house, fire crackling. The kids had been bathed and were ready for bed. They were playing and reading stories with their dad. I walked in and they yelled, “yay! Mum’s home!”.

Now, all three kids are long asleep and I can’t shake this funny feeling in my tummy.

The feeling that, despite my complaining and whining and “you think my kids are cute? would you like them?” – I am very, very lucky to be in the life that I am. I have an amazing husband and my kids are pretty darn neat too. I have wonderful friends who are worth more than their weight in gold.

Isn’t it funny? It took one day of beingĀ me for me to realise how much I love beingĀ Mum as well. And it’s not a bad gig, all things considered.



Happy Mother’s Day

Happy Mother’s Day to all the Mothers, Mums, Moms, Mummies, Grandmas, Nanas, Step-mothers, Dads who are mothers too, people who have lost their mothers, and mothers who have lost their babies.


I cherish my mother, my stepmother and my mother-in-law, as well as all of my friends and family who are mothers as well.

I wish for all of you a day where you are made to feel ridiculously special, needed, appreciated and loved.

My day started with a (somewhat forced) sleep in, ending with the kids giggling and barging into the room to present me with a wonderful gift and card, and a hand-written note from Princess that said we should go out for lunch, breakfast and dinner, and that Mum could have a sleep in.

I’ve enjoyed taking a day “off” from Mothering today, it’s been fab xx and, I got what I really wanted today – to be made to feel like I really matter in this family. And that’s what I really needed this week.

Love my kids, love my husband, love my Mum, love my crazy family xx

I felt you. You were a pea. Then a lemon. Then an eggplant. I followed advice. I read twelve books. I quit coffee. Could you tell I was scared?

I talked to you, sang to you .. I wasn’t ready.

But then you were here. Ten toes. Eight pounds. Love. Big fat love.

I held you. I fed you. I realised that I would spend my life doing things to make you happy – and that that would make me happy.

And then there are the times I want to give up. You’ve made me rethink my sanity. You’ve made me want to fall on my mother’s feet and tell her that I get it.

But then you made me smile and you say my name – and you grab my hand with those little fingers.

We’re growing together. We are seeing the world like it is new. I will open my heart and love with rain down all over you. You’ll giggle, and I’ll do it all over again. And we will walk hand in hand. Until you let go.

I made you, but you made me a mother.

-author unknown



How Will My Children Remember Me?

I often wonder what my children are going to be like when they reach adulthood and venture into the big, bad world. What are they going to be like as people?

And, what are they going to remember of me and their father, and of their childhood? I’m not necessarily talking in the instance of my not being here, because, obviously, I’m hoping (and assuming) that I will be around for years and years and years (and years) to come.

What do I remember of my parents, and my childhood? I am one of four children, and I know from conversations with my sisters that key events that I remember from my childhood differ from events that my sisters remember. Different children, different childhoods, even within one family. For example, one of my fondest memories of my mum is watching her turn cartwheels across the entire lawn, laughing and laughing along the way. I’ve mentioned this before and at least one sister had no idea what I was talking about.

Which leads to the question, How will my children remember me? And, perhaps more importantly, how do I want my children to remember me?

  • Firstly, and most importantly, I want my kids to remember the love in this house. Mr T and I have always made the point of telling our kids that we love them, no matter what. This has never come into question, no matter how angry we are about things they have done. We might not like what they are doing, but us loving them and caring for them and being there for them should never come into question. Princess tells me she loves me regularly, and I never get tired of hearing it. If we tell BoyChild we love him, he replies, “Love you too, dude”. Bless him!
  • I want my kids to remember the fun and the laughter. Mr T and I love to laugh, we both share a silly sense of humour, and I hope the kids pick this up and take it with them. The playtimes we share as a family – after bath time when the kids run around and we play “boo” or hide and seek, and we all end up laughing and laughing. I want them to remember the times like today when we were out at the doctors and got caught in a sudden downpour. Princess was walking alongside the younger kids in the pram and it very suddenly started raining. Rather than get upset, we laughed. We ran, we jumped in puddles, it was a really nice moment in what was otherwise a very stressful day. I made a big deal about getting the kids into the car before we all melted, they all laughed and laughed as I hustled them into their car seats, and then we laughed some more because my glasses were so wet I couldn’t see who was who! On a day like today, I hope that they remember times like that, not the yelling or the growling or the bossing.
  • I hope that my kids remember my fashion sense, the makeup I (very rarely) wear, the perfume I choose.
  • I would love my kids to remember my love of baking – the cakes we make together. I remember this from my childhood with such fond memories. And, my cooking. I would be quite pleased if they consider me to have been a halfway decent cook throughout their childhood! And, maybe when they come across a dish in their 20s, they can suddenly recall me making it years earlier. And, perhaps, call me for the recipe, just as I have done with my own mother many times before!
  • I want my kids to remember me being in their lives. Taking them to classes, driving them around, being active in their lives. Being their mum.

And, of course, the flipside. I hope my kids don’t look back in thirty years and think of their mum as a grumpy person, a screaming banshee. Because, I’m not ashamed to say it, I am those things some days. But, how people perceive you is so much dependent on how you perceive yourself. So, I am working on not being a grumpy person, a screaming banshee! The way I figure it, my kids are going to remember, in all essence, the person they see me to be. If I want them to remember me for all those things I mentioned, I need to be all those things mentioned.

Take the time to play with your children, laugh with your children, let them make mess sometimes, love them, hug and kiss them, provide for them and treat them like they are the most awesome creatures around. And, it will all pay off when they are Proper Grown Ups and they turn to you and say that you, in fact, are the most awesome creature around. I can’t wait!