I’ve always admired the mums who do the school run perfectly turned out, hair styled nicely, makeup that doesn’t look like it was put on by a 2 year old, clothes neat and matching and just looking so darn well put together. These women look like they are ready to face the day and the world head on and conquer any challenges that may come their way. Their children too. They look neat and tidy and there is not an unbuttoned shirt or a smear of vegemite in sight.
I have to say I feel a little bit intimidated by the above mentioned mums, I’m a mess still in my pjs. I admit to yelling too often at my kids (I’m sure my neighbours could verify this), one in particular but I have four children (two sets of twins; 7 year old fraternal boy/girl twins & 3 year old fraternal girls) so you sometimes need to yell to be heard above the noise.
Our house is like a circus in the morning, I’m constantly telling the seven year olds to eat your breakfast, pack your bag, brush your teeth, put your shoes on, stop pulling your sisters hair, make your bed and the list goes on. The expectation is the same every morning yet they need to be coached through each step. Just when I think I have it all under control and the older two are ready and we are ready to leave with some semblance of my sanity and a partial yet croaky voice, one of the 3 year olds will decide it’s time for their morning poo and having your nappy changed is so much more fun after you have made mummy chase you around the house and then proceeded to kick her in the boobs 20 times whilst assuming the nappy changing position and rolling over from side to side giggling.
Another challenge I face in the morning is that the baby twins (I still think of them as babies even though they are threenagers) will not leave the house without a specific pair of shoes and it’s usually the shoes that the other twin has picked out so that turns into a hair pulling screaming match. Whatever happened to the bond that twins share, the closeness, the secret languages?, I ask myself. By this point my nerves are in shreds and I drag them both out to the car kicking and screaming only to find the older two fighting over who’s turn it is to sit in the front seat and who is picking the music. I have been heard at the end of the court telling my kids that I couldn’t care less who sits where or what music we listen to. Get in the car pronto!!!!
I have just been lucky enough to discover the only area in the kids car park where you don’t have to get out of the car and walk them up to the gate (which is school policy), you can drop them off safely in this area and they do not need to walk on the road to reach the bridge, Genius!!! I just can’t believe it took me nearly two years to make this little discovery. Mind you though, there are only a couple of these parks available and understandably people can become quite territorial over them, I was tempted to show up with a can of spray paint one day and spray a lovely big RESERVED FOR ‘The Twin Mum’ but I thought that may have been taking things too far. These car parks are supposed to be for people driving extra large cars (not for lazy people like me who want to drive their kids to school in their pjs and slippers) so they don’t clog up the car park due to visibility issues but in this day and age where every second person is driving a 4WD, I consider my car to be extra large so I’m going to continue parking there.
We arrive at school and I feel a small sense of relief but the anxiety from making it this far is still bubbling over and although I give a few waves here and there, I don’t want any of these lovely organised mums seeing what a shaking foul mouthed mess I am so I quietly make my way into my new found car park, make sure the kids make it to the gate safely and then I’m out of there. I wouldn’t be lying if I told you that I have pulled up in my driveway after drop off in tears. Tears of relief that I have successfully dropped the kids off and lived to see another day, general tears that seem to go hand in hand with my anxiety disorder (that developed after I became a Mum). Some days I honestly feel as though I have just run a full marathon after dropping the kids at school but who am I kidding, I still have a full day ahead of me with the constant demands of my 3 year olds (luckly they’re cute) and I’d never be able to run a full marathon!! (or a half marathon for that matter).
The End
The Perfectly Imperfect Mummy
This is a guest post by The Perfectly Imperfect Mummy aka know as Michelle. Please feel free to visit her blog & read some of her other posts HERE.
My name is Michelle, aka The Perfectly Imperfect Mummy. I am Mum to two sets of twins, 7 year old Girl/Boy twins & 3 year old fraternal girl twins who I may or may not refer to as the ‘threenagers’ or the ‘antichrist’ or one in particular is my ‘demon baby’. As much as they drive me around the bend, which is more often than not, I love them dearly & couldn’t imagine my life without them.
I love being a Mum but I will never be a ‘perfect’ Mum, feeding my kids all organic foods, volunteering up the school for sausage sizzles, hot lunch day & volunteering to go on excursions. For the time being the 3 year olds take up the majority of my time with their constant demands.
In my spare time I enjoy sleeping, going to the toilet alone & occasionally indulging in a Moscato or 6 & last but not least, writing my blog.
If you have enjoyed this, you may also like to read our starting school series.
Preparing for big school – Emotionally
Preparing for big school – Independence
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