The funny side to life as a working single Mum. My stories of embarrassing escapades, toddler tantrums and great expectations.
Saturday, 15 June 2013
Why I like the bus (sometimes).
So everyday I get the bus from down the road to the village where I work and most of the time I actually really enjoy it. On the days I don't have Ethan I listen to music, drink tea and either get some marking done or read. It's a rare time to relax on my own or get some work done so I have more family time at the weekend.
For the most part I like it on the days I have Ethan with me going to our on site nursery. While he is a handful on the bus, he experiences meeting a whole range of people, some eager to meet him and some not.
A perfect example is the two ladies who we see most evenings who Ethan has made great friends with. One has wild orange hair, which waves and shakes as she constantly smiles and giggles. Her companion is a tall, strong minded South African woman, who tells fantastic stories of how different South African parenting can be compared to English parenting. Namely giving salty biltong to babies as a teething aid, something our South African friend has spoken about too. Ethan really likes these two ladies and it adds a sweetness to our day.
Next, my students. Fascinated, scared and mainly amused as teenagers would be, it's amazing to see Ethan point and call out to the 'big kids' and just lovely to see them respond to him. One of my students found it quite magical that Ethan was 'talking' to her and holding her hand contently. It's a lovely part of the day.
Don't think it's all smiles, giggles and charming baby talk. It isn't. Some of the time, Ethan screams and wails the bus down when just before he was fine. On one particular day he did a shit of epic standards which I thought was some dirty bastard farting on the bus! I'm opening windows while Ethan sits there smiling literally like a piglet in shit.
The staring is the worst bit. The way people stare as though I need to DO SOMETHING! As though I've not thought of trying teething powder, or a cuddle or a drink or any other idea you may have. I understand a screaming babe is annoying but he is just that, a baby. At times he is an exhausted, teething wind filled baby! He's just telling us all about it!
Anyway, I've now just persuaded myself I actually hate the bus. Thanks blog. It's all your fault.
Thursday, 13 June 2013
Motherhood vs Life.
One of the articles inside focused on the choice by women to have or not have children. It turns out women are leaving it later in life generally to have children. No surprise. With women moving further forward in their careers, often with more stereotypically masculine attitudes to relationships (think Samantha from 'Sex and the City') and ever advancing medical science it's hardly news.
My issue with this piece is the clear distinction between 'I'm a success and didn't have kids; look at my fabulous life!' with 'I was a success but gave it all up; look at my wonderful mothering.' Either way, both hold a tone of 'you there! Yes you, the one reading? You're fucking shit and will never be this awesome.' Whether you are the 28 year old without children or the 25 year old with 2 or 3 at your feet, you can never be as successful as these women.
Now, I'm not blaming these women at all. They both seem to be great examples of women, when you dig beneath the bullshit. It's the journalism which I hold issue with. We are in a time now where women are forced to seek extreme ideals. While the idea of 'having it all' was once marketed as real womanhood, we are now faced with two opposing ideals. A choice with no middle ground, only perfection.
For the woman without children reading along, she is goaded into thinking her life should be as sophisticated and jet setting as woman A, rather than spending the odd night in front of 'The Voice' shovelling in popcorn in her PJs with the cat. Equally, for the mother (working or at home) she is faced with a frightening example of motherhood perfection; think a beautiful, baking, smiling miracle worker. This mother looks at woman B and then at herself; a milky bile or chocolate biscuit covered display in joggers cooking up fish fingers. How does she feel?
I come at this from the view of having been both these women. It doesn't take having children to make you a full, pure woman. Just as you don't need to live the life of a glamour girl 24/7. We just need to be left to live.
The whole portrayal of women in the Media gets on my wick anyway, but that's a whole other blog or ten. This article just goes to show that public attitudes to women haven't changed that much. You're either a sexy singleton or an angelic earth mother. Case and point.
Come on, have a day off Media. Don't you have a Mum too?
Monday, 10 June 2013
Only a Mother knows.
From this I have been thinking back on what I really gained, learnt from my childhood and one thing prevails. Be yourself. It may sound cliche but my parents really did and still do accept me and my brother for who we are, who we want to be, who we can be. For myself, I feel incredibly lucky to have parents who have been welcoming and accepting to my friends and past boyfriends. They have always instilled in me a link between my life in and out of their house. My parents have always accepted my hobbies and ever changing aspirations with support but an equal amount of realism. Most of all, my parents have always been open and accepting of my love for the unusual, whether that be fashion, music or tattoos. Although, I should probably add here that it was my Mum who got me into Siouxsie and the Banshees and persuaded me to listen to Marilyn Manson as a Greenday bopping teenager!
My parents have always been interested in our hobbies, our tastes, our life which was great. My Mum and Dad would stand in the crowd of my gigs playing drums in shit indie bands and in my days as an angst ridden goth singer! They even made it to a goth night to watch me DJ and my Mum always made sure I had big pants and tights to wear under my mini skirt! As I say, I think this is what I take most from my childhood and adulthood really: openness and acceptance.
Having such open parents does make it hard fucking work to rebel though. See Mum, I said fuck!
Even in adulthood my parents put up with me going through an array of fashions and phases along with going out with some pretty dodgy characters, several house moves and the decision to undertake teacher training after just 6 months living solo working in London. They still accepted me home for a year to do my teacher training. After this my parents allowed and accepted me travelling to Ghana alone for the summer which, while a woman of 26, I can see now how harrowing this would have been for them. In particular for my Mother, watching me check in at the airport knowing that from that moment on I am alone in an unknown world, without her protection or care.
Being a parent never ends. Being a Mother doesn't stop when they are off your hands. It just gets more difficult, as you are forced to let them go and learn to accept and love a new person. This person still holds the core of your baby, your child but has changed under the influence of not just you but the world outside of you. When we live in a world as cruel as ours, its no wonder this ensues madness.
Thursday, 6 June 2013
Kids are just kids.
Teaching Year 7 and suddenly they jump up, pointing with excitement. It turned up we were on the route of the 'buggy bus', which can only be described as a high tech trailer with seat belts which the poor nursery nurses drag behind them like some kind of farmer's mule while the babies sit back and relax! Seriously, it is fabulous and hilarious at the same time. Turns out Ethan was one of the passengers and we all gave a wave out the window, with lots of 'aahhhhs' from my sweeties of a class.
Once the 'buggy bus' had passed it was time to get back to work: poetry writing. What prevailed was a discussion by the boys in my class of how great it would be to take a ride in the buggy bus and in fact be a baby again! Followed by poems on this very topic.
Turns out kids are always just kids at heart.
Tuesday, 4 June 2013
Much Ado About Faceache.
Find it here: https://www.facebook.com/MuchAdoAboutParenting
Hope you're all having a great day whatever you're doing.
Monday, 3 June 2013
Putting your foot in it. Literally.
I am obviously an excited and proud Mother every time Ethan lifts his size 3 1/2 G foot to take a couple of heavy steps like a miniature Godzilla until he falls to his reliable crawling, laughing as he goes down. It's amazing to see his face light up with the strength he is ever building. However, I could do without him trying out this new skill through a shitty nappy change. Being full of energy and an urge to destruct, Ethan isn't exactly enthusiastic about laying still for any length of time. Wriggling with such power it is almost impossible to hold him down, his current playtime is to push to standing, with what can't even be described as a turtle-head hanging out of his bare arse. Giggling and panting he then takes messy steps into raisin fuelled excrement, printing shitty footprints all over the change matt and beyond. Like at nursery when the girls got the babies using paint to forever mark sugar paper with their comparitively tiny handprint; except with shit.
Anyway, I hope you weren't eating lunch when you read this. I also hope that some of you read this and recognise the stamp of shitty footprints in your own lives. That't not a metaphor for parenthood, I promise. I hope you too literally have shitty footprints in your household, just so we aren't the only ones. Let me know your thoughts on putting your foot in it in the comments below.
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