Being told to hurry myself along in order to leave the house is one thing I can-not-stand. Not based on the pretences that I don’t like to be told what to do but based on the fact that hey, I’ve just done 100 other jobs prior to trying to spend a few decent minutes on myself. This isn’t just an ‘I’ rant. I’m pretty sure anyone or in this light, any mother, will have caught the same feels at some point in their lag.
One of the things about being Mum in my home means it’s my job to get everyone out of the house in a timely fashion and alive. I don’t think Anam knows how much weighs on me to make that 3pm function or that 10am footy game. It never is intentional to force us into the pit of lateness, but half the time it happens because there is so much to do and only one of me to do it all. Don’t get me wrong, there is the rare occasion where Anam will stick out the morning with me until we leave but that’s not all the time. I wish. I’ve just come to accept that we just aren’t wired the same ‘lol.
No matter how much time you allow yourself to be ready or how well you prepare for a clean departure, you are bound to wind up with a few tasks more that’ll cut into ‘your time – to get ready’. Well at least that’s exactly what happens to me! I could write a full list of what needs to be done like I always do the night before as well as prepack what needs to be worn or taken to save time and somehow we will still end up behind the clock. It just isn’t realistic to follow your list in order of time when you have a couple of little people to tend to. You’ve just got to remain open-minded even when it feels like you are the only flexible adult in the house.
The real frustration comes from the part where apparently it is your fault right. The part where you are told “you were too busy doing your makeup!” or “did you have to straighten your hair!”. Somebody should save him if he ever says anything like that ‘haha. The only reason why it seems like it was “the makeup” or “the hair” that made us late is because everything else cut into “my time”. On top of that list I made last night I also had to clean up after breakfast, shower and change the children, clean up the toybox that was pulled out 5 times and hang out the clothes you just asked me to wash for work on Monday. So go figure.
Unless you don’t want to leave the house with an irate troll as a wife, then I suggest all you men just sit in the car, be adorable, and please wait. For your own sake that is.
Steenah xx
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