Having a conversation about ‘witching hour’ with a couple of friends a while back and I was informed that ‘doing it on your own would be harder but it can’t be THAT hard can it?
It wasn’t really posed as a question more of an accusatory statement that questioned my ability as a parent thinly veiled as a sincere question….
My first response was anger, I wanted to flip the table over on him, smoosh food through his hair, tear all my clothes off and scream about how cold I was for 20 minutes then cry myself to sleep while yelling out from my room ‘I hate you and your not my mum!!!!’
I wanted to do that but then I’d have to clean the fucking mess up later!
Somehow as if the parenting gods decided it was that exact time they would divinely intervene my toddler walked out the door SCREAMING at me that she has poop on her hands and she has been calling me forever to come and wipe her bum but had to do it her herself.
I asked why I didn’t hear her call me she frustratingly informed me that ‘I was screaming for 100 minutes like this!’ to which she proceeded to demonstrate opening her mouth wide and appearing that she was going to roar but instead just mouthing the word ‘MUMMY’ repeatedly with no actual sound.
To add to my upcoming argument to my dear friend my eldest three were engaged in a battle of blame, that’s when I ask a simple question like ‘who left the milk out last’ and each child very loudly gives me an essay on why it wasn’t them, who they believed it was and why they are positive, even with a lack of any evidence at all, why that person MUST of done it. They blame everyone from each other, the baby kid, me and the cats if necessary.
They continued the very loud argument until I finally threatened to use the baby’s shitty hands to cover their mouths if they didn’t knock it off! They all laughed at the poop joke and empty threat and as quick as it started, it was over.
At this stage I have already started undressing the toddler for a shower and tell my now slightly concerned but trying to play it cool friends that I’ll be back out soon and to just ignore the screaming that is found to be heard in a few minutes, I’m just about to wash bubs hair.
There was screaming, ohh you better believe their was fucking screaming and I done NOTHING to quieten that shrill shriek down, I mean of course I covered her eyes and gave her a sponge but there was no shooshes from me that shower.
Unbeknownst to me, Miss 10 has seen that miss 4 was covered from asshole to breakfast in shit and had ran out to give everyone an extremely descriptive account of what she had just witnessed in the bathroom. When my mates told me later about her ‘story’ I OBVIOUSLY called her out to repeat it!
So by this stage my friends slight concerned represented more that of someone terrified of heights being forced to parachute out of a plane into unknown territory, I was feeling quite pleased with how the day went and was considering whether I should hammer the last nail in the coffin or not……
I sat down, poured a wine for myself And looked over at my girlfriend, his wife, his very pregnant wife and she looked worried ….she looked like she needed a wine!
We were chatting and she got a tad bit emotional and said she doesn’t know how I do it, on my own with 4 after losing the babies dad to suicide and the older girls dad not being around she was genuinely empathetic and I realised my satisfaction in seeing him squirm meant I overlooked the fear in her eyes.
The fear we all carry as parents if we are going to be good enough, if we are going to be able to do it. If we are gonna fuck our kids up one hour of electronics at a time?!
I eased her mind by telling her about the wonderful things, the bond between us all, how close we are and how we forgive each other and love each other unconditionally. We spoke about how beautiful it is to wake up with a tiny face staring back at you, 💯 as in love with you as you are with them.
The pure love the girls feel for each other and how they’re the first to tease each other and fight but the first to go into battle for one another if anyone else dares say some shit to them!
She went inside and her hubby thanked me for putting her mind at ease she was really starting to worry over ‘stupid things’ and admitted the only thing he is scared of is being shit on by the baby….
l stared him straight in the eye and with an ominous smile I replied ‘oh I’m sure you’ll be just fine Gary, babies don’t really shit too often only like, a few times a day and MOST of the time it stays in the nappy except the poopsplosions’ of course’
He ever so cautiously asked what exactly is a poopsplosion……..so I showed him a photo.
(Names have been changed to protect smug Gary’s identity*)