Do you remember last week? It was the week when it was over 30 degrees. I’m sure it hasn’t escaped you just yet, despite the cloudy skies and rainy days that have followed this week. Well last week was right up our street, blue skies and incredibly warm. Perhaps a little too warm for some and with the babies it isn’t always ideal, but it was short-lived, so we didn’t moan.
Anyway, on the Tuesday, the hottest day, the toddler was in nursery for the afternoon and Mr Tammy decided to take the afternoon off, he seemingly has a self-imposed I don’t work over
25 30 degrees rule’ – he works for himself so he was able to make this decision. Whilst the toddler was in nursery he, the baby and myself decided to pop out for lunch, in the pub garden…obvs, we are partial to a pub garden. It was a late lunch I don’t think we got there until after 2. Eating with only one small child to tame in public is considerably easier than the insurmountable challenge that eating out with two under two can often be.
I was glad of his plan, the morning had been a trying one. Nothing pleased the kids, they both refused to eat, moaned at the constant sun cream application, refused to nap, stressed me out over whether they were getting enough water, threw their hats on the floor. Ya know the general toddler/baby combo merriment we all encounter.
I didn’t have high hopes for the afternoon, but to my surprise, we had a lovely afternoon, the baby was well-behaved, ate his food, played with the plethora of toys we brought with us even had a sneaky bonus nap so we could sit and enjoy a relaxed drink. Bliss.
However all this I fear came at a cost. We strolled to get our daughter from nursery only to be reminded that it was nursery parents evening. OMG how could I forget? Admittedly I’m not sure what one gains from nursery parents evening but still I felt obliged to represent. So there I found myself, hot, sweaty, straight out of the friggin pub (the pub!!) getting my daughters nursery report from her key worker. Worst.mum.ever. Don’t get me wrong I wasn’t drunk but I knew where I had been. I don’t know why, it’s not like I’d just come out of prison, on crack.
We then got home to two over tired moaning babies. Argh. I was hot and flustered and mourning the end of the heavenly afternoon, that seemed like a distant memory already. All my parenting will power had been zapped. The toddler wanted a biscuit, she got a biscuit, hell the baby even got a biscuit, or two… They ran riot in their nappies, I freely handed over the iPad, iPhone whatever was wanted. We skipped bath time and they were sent to bed dead on 7, there was no eking it out that night.
Once in bed I sat down looked at Mr Tammy and I could have cried. I felt like a terrible mum. I was banging on about feeling guilty and that I should have risen above the frustration of battling the toddler over biscuits or the singing-cat-like moans from the baby. That we shouldn’t have gone to the pub because her nursery will now think I should go on Jeremy Kyle and if we hadn’t had such a stress free happy afternoon I wouldn’t be so pissed off and dealt with shit hitting the fan so badly at witching hour. He looked at me quite calmly and said
‘they don’t do bad bab, (yes he’s a brummie) they eat good food, they are looked after, loved and happy, give yourself a break. You will be a better mum tomorrow for having had a few hours respite today’.
Well stone the crows the man spoke sense. It was like a slap in the face. Why was I beating myself up about having enjoyed a few hours of peaceful us time. Why was I giving myself such a hard time at finding 2 under 2 hard work. They are after all.
Turns out, he was right. That few hours of a blissful summers afternoon spent with Mr Tammy and a happy baby, albeit in the pub garden, did me the world of good. The next day I felt refreshed, patient and ready to face the full on, non stop day that two under two bring. So sorry babies if I was a little bit rubbish, tomorrow I will do better. And I did.
Mums and dads take a leaf out of Mr Tammy’s book, cut yourself some slack, enjoy some you time and don’t feel guilty for it. If you get worked up by the kids, well join the club, we all do, we all have bad days and that’s OK.