Well I don’t know about you but I over the last 21 months of being a mum I have had some pretty epic mummy fails, oh shit moments (literal shit moments) and times where I have wanted to run to the hills and hide with a bottle of wine and some quiet. If there were awards for those mummy fail moments then I reckon I’d be in with a pretty good shout with my entries….
Starting nice and high brow as ever. I could probably write an entire post on this but I’ll save you and just share those extra special moments. This is one of my all time mummy fails that I think will stay with me until the end of time. My daughter was sat in the bath and I was faffing about on Facebook tidying up the bathroom and she was clearly trying to tell me something, she couldn’t talk so I didn’t really know what she was trying to say so I went back to my phone, and then I saw it. OH MY GOD SHES POOED IN THE BATH. I know this is actually common place for many but it was the first time faced with this situation and I did not handle it well. I yanked her out, wrapped her up and drained the water. I was then staring at poo all over an empty bath. For reasons unknown I tried to fish it out with tissue. Why oh why? Tissue disintegrates. It went so badly and was all so horrifying I was then sick in the bath. I was now faced with cleaning both poo and sick out of the bath. Absolute fucking nightmare.
Fortunately I dealt with our second poo gate moment better, albeit marginally. The bath was running, I had just stripped my little boy, including nappy and left him for all of 30 seconds to go to stop the bath. I turned around to see him doing the baby limited version of ‘the snake’ looking very pleased with himself and there it was in the corner of my eye, that familiar shade of brown. My beautiful boy had of course felt the freedom of a bare bum, pooed and then rolled onto it squashing it between his naked tummy and the carpet. I mean what do you do? I needed wipes, disinfectant, cloths (none of which were to hand) and I had a naked toddler running round, a naked baby with poo on him and poo squashed into my carpet. I was well and truely outnumbered by the whole situation.
Please do not tell me I am the only one this has happened to? You ‘pop’ out – there’s the first fail, you can never pop anywhere with the small people. Anyway you think you’ll only be 20 minutes, you won’t need the raincover that they having on anyway, so you leave it behind. ‘It’ll be alright’. Only to find yourself 10 minutes from home staring down a big black cloud. Picking your pace up to avoid the heavens opening, those first few teasing drops start landing, followed by avoidable almighty down pour… You have no option, you are equidistant from home or the nearest dry refuge….FFS. So there I was on a main road, two babies in my tandem pushchair without a raincover and clearly about to win mother of the year award. I spent the next 5 minutes manoeuvring the hood on the pushchair and fixing my (thankfully) over sized scarf around them so they don’t get wet and practically sprint home. I get through the door, both babies are dry and have fallen asleep whereas me and my poxy hoodless jacket are drenched. Quite literally soaked through. At least the babies are dry eh… Pass the wine.
Oh isn’t he goergeous?
Now this next one happens a lot, and I mean A LOT, but here’s just the latest example. Our big food shop delivery arrived the other morning – having since given up actually going to the shop with two babies as that is just a fail waiting to happen. Anyway the lovely driver, and he was lovely if you know what I mean, was bringing the shopping to the door I was waiting with the babies in tow in my dressing gown (fail) when I heard the driver say’oh isn’t he goergeous?’, I smiled politely ‘oh look at those eyes, he’s got amazing eyes’ he said again, ‘oh he really is lovely what’s his name?’ He asks. ‘Zara’ comes my expressionless reply. ‘Oh’. ‘A a… I was going to say what a pretty boy he is but that makes sense now’ he says trying to recover. In all fairness we did have a laugh about it and don’t worry I didn’t berate him for thinking my daughter was my son, he certainly isn’t the only one. Once we were sat on a flight and Zara was laughing and playing with the people sat in the row behind us, she had a pink top on with hearts on it and he still said ‘what is his name?’. So Zara, as beautiful as you are until you grow some hair I’m not sure we’ll never escape the gender confusion. I’m not too sure what my fail is here, perhaps our inability to produce a girl with long flowing locks…. Ironically her younger brother has lots of hair.
If you are unlucky enough to have had a child that suffers with reflux you’ll know just what a nightmare this is. You always need spare clothes with you, for you and your tot and a shed load of Muslin cloths and bibs. What you probably won’t bring with you however is a spare set of the clothes for the nice lady who fusses over your sicky bundle of joy. Yes I nearly died the day when my unassuming little boy projectile vomited all over the nice old lady in John Lewis. There is just no recovery from this. Apologies and excuses only go so far. It was a case of all swell that ends well but my goodness what I wouldn’t have given for the floor to swallow me up at that moment in time.
And then there’s this…
So I think it’s probably fair to say I won’t be giving supermum a run for her money any time soon. Supermum’s babies, definitely wouldn’t be sick on strangers or poo in the bath and if they did she certainly wouldn’t be sick trying to clear it up. I am sure her girls would clearly look like girls and she would always have the bloody raincover, just in case. Along with a packed lunch, some colouring books and a ‘how to teach your two old Mandarin book’. But all in all we do ok, we make it from sun up to sun down and my babies seem to think I’m quite cool so I’ll take that.