For the past two days (not even two really) I’ve been a “single parent”. Rocco is in Melbourne for a show and left at around 9am yesterday so from wake up time yesterday I had to do everything for both kids. Usually our morning routine is mostly me but if Nicolas is screaming Rocco takes a minute to calm him down. Natasha is big enough now to do things and get herself ready but it still takes more of my time and attention that I thought about until the last two mornings. I have managed to get Natasha to daycare both days before the end of craft which is an achievement.
Night time has been a little tricker. I have an amazing husband who does more than most. Usually I deal with one of the two and he’s watching the other one. While he cooks I feed Nic. While Natasha has her bath, he looks after Nic. While I get them both off to bed, he cleans the kitchen. Last night everything went smoothly. Tonight not so much and I found myself stacking the dishwasher with Nicolas on one hip and Natasha yammering in my ear about something that happened at daycare, expecting my full attention. I think I managed to fein interest and could answer and respond in the right spots so on the mummy front I’m doing ok. I still haven’t managed to get all the washing off the line but there’s always tomorrow.
As I sat pairing socks tonight I found myself thinking about my mum. She’s a remarkable woman and there have been many times I’ve realised that both before and after becoming a mother myself. Tonight though I wondered how she did it. My dad left before my youngest brother was out of nappies. She managed to deal with three kids under five and make sure we were all fed, clothed and showered with affection. I wonder how she didn’t go insane and scream at us all. I have a few memories of being yelled at when I was young but none of them are of my mum. She’s always taken everything in her stride. I am sure she’s actually got her own Super Woman outfit. I’m struggling to cope on my own for three days and she did it every day for ten years. She did it again years later with the addition of another baby. By then she had a baby and three teenagers each with their own issues and dramas. Still she managed to feed us, clothe us and make sure we all knew we were loved.
Recently this incredible woman I call my mum blogged about becoming an empty nester. (I would link to the blog entry but I don’t want to ask her permission). It was interesting to read about her experience and to realise for the first time in her life she’s living alone. Part of me feels guilty to think that while she was going through this and adjusting to it last year I spent less time there than I usually do. She works so hard and I wanted to give her peace and quite on the weekend. Maybe I should have made more of an effort to pop in and spend some time with her. I’m sure even the noise of Natasha running around and the million questions would have been a welcome distraction.
She took the time to write about each of us. I know my mum loves me and I know my mum is proud of me but to see it “in print” made me tear up. Sometimes I feel like I’ve disappointed her and that she could have had a much better life if she hadn’t become a mother at such a young age. But I realised reading that she has no regrets. How could she? She’s done something not everyone can say they have. She’s managed to shape the lives of four “families” for generations to come. Many of the values I want my children to have are the very values she instilled in me.
I take my hat off to this incredible lady. If I can be half as good a mother as she is then I’ll be happy.
P.S Mum: Sorry about the country song.