So we’re well into December. Yay. We’re all officially excited about Christmas (well I have been for a while now, I just kept it on the down low in fear of people telling me to fuck off and die). The decorations are up (don’t worry they went up post 1st December so no baby reindeer’s were drowned by raging elves*), the present buying is well under way so Christmas has well and truly begun. Excited – much!
Illness struck the other week. One by one we fell to a dreaded sickness bug. It hit us, quite literally, at the crapiest of times – like in the middle of the night. For most of the ‘ill’ week we found ourselves with a sick child sandwiched between us in bed. With one hand on a sick bowl, we spent most of the night poised ready to take a blow. There was very little sleep had, so as you can imagine the mood of the house was not at its best.
Last week was the half-term break for us. It has been quite hectic getting the big girl settled into big school so I was looking forward to having a week off from the school run and a bit of down time. How did that go I hear you ask?
We’ve always loved a holiday and experiencing life on different shores. Whenever we could and to wherever we could, we would get away. To remote corners of Scotland to sunny beaches of Spain and peaceful villages in the Caribbean (I sound like a twat here I know, but fuck it
we he worked hard for it). We were kid free and life was, well it was quite simply flipping marvellous.
With three kids under the age of three, the Double buggy was crucial to getting out and about. Braving the town, or anywhere outdoors, with three small children in tow, made one of these monstrosities essential.
I did consider ‘wearing’ the third child (such a crap saying, I was just going to carry him around in a sling) and continuing with the normal stroller, but having been left with half a back and a floaty hip (as a result of SPD – Urgh), I decided that my body had reached its maximum loaded child bearing weight and having found the Tandem Buggy way too heavy, I opted for the Double Buggy to wheel him and remaining children around in.
As parents, guilt is something that we accept as part of the job. It wafts over us from time to time and can often linger like a bad fart. You know the one, when we get consumed by feelings of sadness and regret as we beat ourselves up over our parenting decisions and approaches. It can either give us a kick up the arse, forcing us to step back and assess if something is wrong that we need to change, or it can eat away at us as we question our parental choices and we feel the pressure from what society indicates we should be doing. Or, even worse, the guilt we feel when we fail to live up to our own expectations of perfection.
(Look at that badge – I’m just proud that I figured out how to do stuff like this – 8 moths ago I didn’t have the foggiest. Go me!)
When I put myself out there for a vote, I never expected that this little blog of mine would be in with chance. I haven’t got a massive following and with three kids constantly nipping at my ankles I never seem to have much time to blog and keep up with the crowd. I’m still getting worried by widgets, stressed by social media and trying not to turn into a ‘twatter’. So for now I’m chuffed to bits just to be shortlisted alongside some of the blogging greats who gave me immense comfort on some very bad days.
SOD THAT of course I want to win!
There was a time when I would not have believed that we would end up with three kids, especially having them in three years. I really couldn’t have begun to imagine what that would be like – I mean that just sounded completely hideous. Who would do that?
Well we did and I now know exactly what its like.
A life full of chaos and pandemonium, plate spinning and head ringing noise is now the norm and simply what we have accepted as part of our lives. We never seem to come quietly and our family dynamic rarely allows us to blend into the background and go unnoticed. We attract plenty of interest into how we get by and how this all works. So if you were interested, let me tell you what its like to have three kids in three years.
I currently find myself at a stage in my life where I seem to be side-lined to the new passion in his life. Many women, pushing forty with kids, may find themselves in a similar position. You may have witnessed your other halves retire themselves from a physical sport such as Football or Rugby due to dodgy knees, niggly backs, the pressure of family life or their expanding waste lines and you may begin to look forward to them being around the house a bit more, helping with the chores, tinkering in the garden and entertaining the kids while you have a little lie down.
But no, how wrong can you be.