I have just began my new life as ‘school mum’; alternating washed shirts, defrosting bread rolls, emptying uneaten food from the lunchbox and lists; always writing lists. Twice a week now, my littlest diva goes to pre-school, giving me precious time to work, write those lengthy lists and stare painfully at the tipped out lego and overflowing washing basket.
I regularly feel overwhelmed with it all. There is just so much to do; so little time. How do these super parents manage everything and still look so immaculate at school pick-up?
On my very first day back at ‘work’, what did I do?
I did what any other self respecting parent would do after six long weeks of unplanned attachment parenting over the summer break.
I went shopping.
I went for ‘one thing’ and was going to just whip in an out.
Of course, I couldn’t find my ‘one thing’ there, so I had to head along to the other shops.
A couple of hours later, I emerged with groceries, school socks, a hat for my daughter at pre-school, and more importantly, some stuff FOR ME!!!
It seems I was hit by the Freedom Frenzy.
The manic realisation that I was free.
That I had no one climbing my legs wanting yoghurt or desperately needing every toy in every shop that we passed through. It was quite liberating. I had simply brought my purse with me, and then fast became drunk with the ease of trying things on, swapping sizes, changing items…and without too much thought for the bank account, slapping the card down with the justification that I may not have this chance again for a while.
I walked through, feeling like I was wearing a badge saying, “NEW SCHOOL MUM : SEE ME SHOP”, with a glowing smile for all and sundry in my path.
Oh, but I saw you.
I saw you wrestle those 26 bags of groceries on the arms of your stroller, only to have it topple over when your unrestrained toddler made a dash for freedom.
And I saw you standing at the Paw Patrol mini merry go round staring blankly into mid air whilst your two sat on the immobile dogs wondering why it apparently hadn’t been ‘fixed’ yet, given it wasn’t working last time.
I clocked your wrestle with your little ones shoe that he insisted on repeatedly kicking off.
I watched you try the ‘walk away, I’m going’ manoeuvre when your child refused to leave the indoor mini play area.
I heard your, “I’m talking really calmly, quietly and slowly,” voice, because you were 3 seconds off absolutely flipping out when he tipped his bubbacino over at the cafe. I know that all you wanted was 5 bloody minutes of peace, a phone scroll and a strong coffee.
I registered you as you began your groceries with a kid happily munching sultanas sitting up in the trolley, and then I passed you down aisle 6 when he had lost it and the sultanas were now being dumped wildly overboard to the tune of “WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!”
I absolutely recognised your look of horror as you half ran and half dragged your potty training child through the centre asking everyone where the closest toilets were.
I wanted to sneak up to you and whisper…”Mumma, it does pass,” (but that would have just been too weird, right?).
Not in the blink of an eye kind of rubbish, but one day soon, you will find yourself wandering through the kids clothes aisles, hoping your daughter gets to do some painting at pre-school, because we just don’t do it ever enough at home. You will be at the supermarket desperately searching aisles for lunchbox inspiration, but grabbing a bag of cheese and bacon rolls, just in case. That will trigger your brain to wondering if your baby actually ate his crunch and sip, and if he found his little mate at recess to play with. You’ll think about whether you remembered to pack spare undies in her bag, and quickly grab your phone out, because you haven’t checked in a while to see if school has called.
You’ll start to head back to your car, glance at the sky and worry that you really should put sun screen on their little faces every day. You’ll hop in the car, register the time, and panic that you are not cut out to juggle this mum, wife and worker routine. You’ll reverse out, glance in the mirrors and see the empty car seats like a stab to your heart.
And you’ll have a moment; just a moment mind you.
Just a quick heart tug, (only a hundred odd times throughout the day), whilst you try to work out this new ‘school mum’ you.
But you will continue on, crank up the radio and belt out the best of the 80’s, even throwing in a few fist pumps at the lights.
Then all of a sudden it hits you.
You forgot to get your ‘one thing’ at the shops.
But no, that’s not it. Annoying yes, but it doesn’t fully explain that gnawing feeling of forgetting something important that you’ve had all day.
That weird, floaty, ‘something’s missing’ feeling that you just can’t shift?
Despite the meltdowns, the tears, the snot, the night waking, the wrestling, the in-house bickering between tired kids, the bum wiping and the overflowing baths, you might actually find…
Well…
It seems despite fantasising about this moment for possibly 5 long years, you are desperately missing those beautiful, sunny kids of yours.
