Thursday, July 24, 2014

war on terror

How are all the other mothers coping? How are women not just having complete tantrum, screaming, moany meltdowns in the street (on every street... all over the globe). I only have one baby to keep alive and sometimes I feel emotionally raped and starved of solitude.

It occurred to me that a lot of my time is now spent indoors, so perhaps the mummy meltdowns are happening behind each of the closed doors (on every street... all over the globe) and hence why I am not "seeing" the proof.

When I think of the words "War on Terror", I am not thinking about an awful war in the middle east, where trumped up charges of "weapons of mass destruction" allowed America to invade, dominate and dig up oil. Nope, I am thinking of babies. There are small war's going on all over the world, war's behind closed doors, wars with "weapons of mass defecation".

I used to think that old people were soooo annoying (well actually I still do) with their forgetfulness and clumsiness. Repeating stories, farting and burping at any given moment (in public or at the dinner table). Walking slowly, Drive slowly... repeating stories... not listening to the conversation at hand. Being selfishly consumed entirely by their own small world... repeating stories...

AND NOW I KNOW WHY! I can see the writing on the dam wall! I am slowly, but surely, being worn down, I am becoming that crazy old ANNOYING person! and I blame BIG BABY!
You gorgeous, smiley, soft, round, cuddly, life drainer. You are making me old and saggy and forgetful and clumsy. I repeat stories, fart and burp at any given moment. Walk slowly, Drive slowly... repeat stories... and find it Insanely hard to follow the conversation at hand. I am selfishly consumed entirely by my own small world... and often repeat stories...

For example; PET HATE- People who drive around with their indicators still on when clearly they are no longer turning or changing lanes but their car has failed to click the indicator off. Pre-baby I was all "what the HELL are you doing! can't you hear the annoying TICK, TOCK, TICK, TOCK of the indicator telling you that it is STILL ON!!! BEEP BEEP! GET OFF THE ROAD YOU OLD FART!"
and yesterday.... I was that old fart. I was on my way to the gym (which has a creche, thank the sweet lord) all of my energy and will power had been used up by getting my small needy child fed, dressed, packed and out the door before 10am, that I barely had the brain function to focus on the road. After about 8 minutes of driving down a straight highway I realised my indicator was on. Suddenly my brain chugged over a gear to tell me "HAY! YOU-WHO! That TICK-TOCKING is not actually your brain trying to think, ITS YOUR CAR INDICATOR!"

I turned it off, checking my side mirrors for other (younger, child-free, brain using drivers) and then quickly forgot that train of thought as my baby sang out from the back seat. Yep, I blame you baby! One day I am going to be old and annoying too and I blame you.

Disabled Disabled Disabled

A few weeks ago I was saying to my husband that caring for a baby made me feel like I was living life whilst hopping around on one leg with my arms tied behind my back. I felt disabled. That was Until.... I fell over and sprained my ankle and was on crutches, which meant I was then disabled, disabled. Next, I got bronchitis,,, and I was disabled, disabled, disabled.

After a rough few weeks of injuries, complaining, coughing, frustration, limping and a big fat dark cloud of depression... I am almost back to one disability (being a mum). I never in a million years thought having a baby would be this hard. When I voiced this to my husband he said "really? I did"...
(and I thought to myself "you did? I can't believe you agreed to having one!!!").

What If I was actually a disabled mum? How are single parents doing this gig? I really don't know what I expected... But it wasn't this. I thought there'd be more time to do ummmm ANYTHING? Cook dinner, clean the house, meet a friend for a latte, make craft, do paperwork (have a shower, go to the toilet, feed myself).

These few super tough weeks gave me some time to reflect on mum's thru the ages and made me contemplate in wonderment how the human race even exists at all. How did mum's living in "caveman days" deal with babies teething before baby Panadol (and Sophie the overpriced chewable BPA free plastic giraffe)? What did tribes do for nappies? (just hold their baby outside the tent?). My little man often likes to do his number 2's whilst I am feeding him, so If I was a tribe woman feeding my baby with no nappy on I would just be covered in shit. What about post birth infections? tearing of the perineum with no stitches?... I am guessing that is why many woman died in childbirth (or post childbirth from infection).

I take for granted my washing machine, dryer, dish washer, steriliser, microwave, kettle, toaster, mobile phone, car, DISPOSABLE NAPPIES! and yet I am still complaining about how hard it is!! 

My mum pointed out that although these mod cons help us to speed up our daily chores that tribal life had the advantage of "many hands making light work". In tribal times the babies could be past around to a variety of mum's, sister's and aunties for rocking, sshhhing and entertainment. Where as nowadays in our western society often we are holed up in our individual houses trying to tackle each individual task on our lonesome. 

I can't help feeling like there is a better way, like we have missed something? It sure is a giant leap from tribal child rearing to lone western mothering... surely there is a better middle ground.