Let me set the scene – it’s dinner time, my kitchen is a
mess – every surface covered with pots, pans, bowls, crumbs, sauce and spillage
(and this is just me conjuring up fish fingers, pasta and peas).
Since coming home from school an hour and a half ago the
boys – H, 5 years old and C, 3 years old – have been wrestling, scrapping,
shouting, crying, poking, prodding and telling on each other – lots of telling
on each other. Finally, despite regular dashes to the living room/den/toilet/bedroom
to referee the latest spat, dinner is ready. I shout through to tell them to
wash their hands. And then shout through again. And then walk through and tell
them. And then tell them again. When they’re sat at the table I ask what they
want to drink and when they both reply with a demanding “water”, I add please
on the end. As I always do.
And so, in Carrie Bradshaw style (but without the style, the
wardrobe the sex or the city), I got to thinking about the things I find myself
saying ALL THE BLOODY TIME since having children. And equally, the things I
hardly ever say anymore. This is what I came up with:
1. NO
This is possibly the word I say most in my life and can be
used in many contexts. Some that spring to mind –
·
No, you can’t have a sweetie before breakfast,
·
No, you can’t watch X-men, you’re 5 – what’s
that, Dad’s let you watch it before?
·
No, you can’t get down from the table yet
·
No, you can’t have another ice lolly
·
No, your friend ______ can’t come round to play
right now
·
No, you can’t have that Lego set/car/transformer
And of course, it’s also used a lot even when not directed
at the children –
·
No, I can’t go to the
pub/restaurant/party/festival/holiday
·
No, I don’t have anything smarter/without stains
·
No, I haven’t got round to the washing up/hovering/laundry/food
shopping/cleaning up the cat sick
·
No, not tonight, I have a headache.
2. PLEASE / THANK YOU
/ PARDON ME / EXCUSE ME / I WOULD LIKE
Generally, any form of reminding them to use their manners.
This tends to be at the end of most sentences and becomes most enthusiastically
done when other people are involved i.e. any present receiving experience. The
embarrassed smile and nudge you have to give when your child rips open a
present and says loudly and grumpily, “But I didn’t want this”, reminding them
that what they should say is, “thank you very much, I love it” – even if it is
a second hand Barbie with an arm missing.
3. POO / FART /
ARSE-RELATED THINGS
I’m quite ashamed of how much of a role poo has taken in my
life. I know the joke is that new mothers always discuss their newborn’s poo –
which is totally true (“it was really green today – does that mean he’s ill?”
“He had some runny poos and a sore bum, he must be teething”) – but no one
tells you it carries on.
·
Have you got a poo?
·
Do you need a poo?
·
Who pooed in the bath?
·
Whose poo is on the wall?
·
No darling, I don’t want to come and look at
your poo, I’m sure it’s fine.
Obviously, poo and fart are pretty much interchangeable. And
of course, none of this even touches on the hilarity that all this generates.
There’s nothing funnier than a clear-as-day, noisy, smelly fart. Apparently.
4. SLEEP / TIRED /
BED-RELATED THINGS
After having children, sleep takes on a mystical, elusive,
golden-fleece like quality. There’s talking about their sleep –
·
He slept for 45 minutes, then was awake for an
hour, then 45 minutes, then awake for 2 hours, then 45 minutes (I’m not even
kidding – in his first few months, H only ever slept for about an hour in one
go).
·
When will he sleep through the night?!
·
He slept through the night!
·
He has to have his sleep, then I can leave the
house.
·
I need to make sure I’m back by 11 so he can
have a sleep.
And then, more importantly, your own sleep. I was constantly
tired and not sleeping well before I had children – now I am exhausted and
broken and have given up on sleep.
·
I’m so tired. (I say this so much it could
almost be my catch phrase)
·
I’m too tired to go out / make dinner / tidy up
/ have sex
Sleep inevitably takes on an Olympic-like competitive nature
with your partner. The taking turns for lie-ins (i.e. staying in bed past
6.30am) seems like a good idea but it never works out fairly – he’ll get the
one day they decide, miraculously, to sleep till nearly 8, when on you’re day
they were up at 6. And then the night-time wake ups. If you get up with them in
the night, does that make his lie-in null and void – or do you have to get up
with them more than once, or between the hours of 12-4 for that to happen? Over-used phrases go something like this -
·
Ugh. Is that a cry?
·
It’s your turn.
·
But I got up with them in the night.
·
It’s my lie-in.
·
Why are you tired? You had a lie-in.
·
I need a nap.
·
Sleeeeeeeeep.
5. TALKING ABOUT YOUR
CHILDREN, GENERALLY.
This can’t be helped, obviously, but I wish there were a way
of controlling it. We’ll go out on extremely rare, longed-for dates and often
spend most of the evening talking about the boys – how sweet they are, funny
things they’ve done, do you remember when…
This also seems to occur much more when aforementioned
children are in bed, asleep – that is when they are usually at their sweetest
and, as you sit on the sofa, drinking a glass of much-needed wine, relaxed and
recovered from the torments of the day, they don’t actually seem all that bad.
Until they wake you up at 5.30 having shat the bed.
Things I Haven’t
Said Enough Since Having Children.
This is a lot simpler.
1. YES (yes, I
can go out, yes, I’ll buy that dress, yes, let’s go on holiday etc. etc.)
2. HAVE YOU HEARD THE
NEW ALBUM BY / READ THE NEW BOOK BY / SEEN THE NEW FILM/PLAY…. Anything to
do with culture – post-the-date-you-had-first-child.
3. I LOOK ALRIGHT
TODAY.
4. THE NIGHT IS
YOUNG, IT’S ONLY 11 O’CLOCK.
5. I’M FEELING RANDY.
I hate to tell you this, but the jokes on poo and farts will continue well past their teens......with Dad completely a part of it.
ReplyDeleteStill loving this very very much....it is so relevant to just about every parent I know. Carly xx
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