A Few Reasons Why I Am Not Nominated For Mum Of The Year

I'm nearly 43 and nothing has ever baffled me as much as this parenting thing. There is not a manual out there that can answer ANY of my questions. Quite often I say out loud "So how am I supposed to parent this?" - especially on those days when there's a toilet roll shoved down the loo and my daughter has cried six trillion times. I'm in my forties and I wish I could say that I've never felt better, but my memory isn't that sharp anymore. I am old and tired. I often wonder if I should have had children when I was much younger so I'd be better at blagging it. I know we all make slips but I'm starting to think I am making BIG mistakes. But you know what, I'm in a good place at the moment. People have even commented on how calm I am, which kinda freaks me out because I must have been demented before. And at least I've got some money saved up for my kid's future therapy. Anyway, looking back on my time parenting in my forties I can see a number of reasons why I have not yet been nominated for Mum Of The Year.

Reason One: My kids sometimes don't love me and sometimes I don't love my kids
Here's a conversation -
Child: "I don't love you when you're angry with me."
Me: "Oh well, nevermind."
Also, on those days when they've been arguing, fighting, whining, crying and generally revolting, I can pretty much say I don't love them.

Reason Two: Accusing my daughter of faking an injury and ignoring her
Because she constantly cries about every bump and bang even when nothing's happened. This morning, for example, I counted 27 new things wrong with her. And what made it worse was that she got wind her brother was seeing the doctor so she made up another 8 ailments.
Yesterday we went to the woods for 90 minutes - 60 minutes of which she spent crying because she'd hurt her knee on a leaf.

Reason Three: I let my toddler do what the feck he wants
Because it's easier. I break all the Rules Of Parenting with him. I don't discipline him that often and sometimes he plays with a hammer. If he wants crisps for breakfast, he gets them - because at 7.30 in the fecking morning with three kids to get to school, I don't want to be force feeding him cornflakes.

Reason Four: My kids don't believe me when I'm nice to them
Maybe because I fake smile so often. Or because I'm really good at saying "That's a lovely story, darling" when really I'm reading Twitter.
Or when I say "You've been really good", they tend to ask "Who are you talking to?".

But you know what - I tried it once, being a really Great Mum, doing everything by the book. It was a couple of months after I'd had my toddler. I did loads of home cooking, played games, did crafts and never raised my voice. I was actually fun to be around. However nobody noticed or even cared and my husband thought I was having a breakdown.

Maybe I'll be nominated in my fifties. Then again, maybe not.


This is an old blog revamped in case you recognise it - but I doubt that. I wrote it back when nobody read my blog except me. And my dog.

Seven Days Of Special Love

So. It all started a few weeks ago when I wrote my Rules Of The Special Love post, followed by Spencer's guest blog and then a conversation with a friend. I have realised that some women HAVE SEX. Yes - they are AT IT. These women are married, have children, have jobs, in fact they have probably more on their plates than I do and yet they still have time to trim their lady carpets and shag their partners. This is the conversation with my mate:
Me: "Oh my god, on the blog a couple of people have commented that they still have loads of sex even though they've got, like, a child."
My Friend: "What do you mean? We do it at least three times a week."
She has FIVE CHILDREN. Five of the feckers! And yet she's sexing like I was in 1999.
So these bi-atches have given me food for thought. Got my love juices a-flowing. Because, well, I can bloody do this. I can be one of those women that don't even lie about their sex life because I'm going to be the best of them all! I'm going to get me SOME SEX! Ten years of marriage, three children later and I can still GET ME SOME BOOT-AH!
So this is what I decided to do. For seven days I have been determined to have sex EVERY GODDAMN NIGHT with my husband. I have been wanting to prove that there can be sex after children. That after childbirth, the 'in' door that has become an 'out' door can once again be an 'in' door. That I can have a red hot sex life without trying to get something out of it, like that dress in Monsoon (by the way, in case he's reading). And I kept a little diary, because what's actually the whole point if I can't SHARE:

SATURDAY: We have friends over. I eat three times my body weight in Chinese food. My tummy gets all funny and the bedroom gets a bit smelly. My husband mysteriously doesn't feel like it.
SUNDAY: You've got to have Sunday Morning Special Love. It's like THE LAW. In between the kids running in and out of the room we somehow manage it. It's not the Kama Sutra but it's a quickie.
MONDAY: I've bought book 2 of The Hunger Games trilogy which I'm, like, obsessed with. But my husband thinks he'll try a bit of tantric. Twenty minutes in and I'm ready to suggest he hops on doggy style so I can carry on reading.
TUESDAY: Husband comes home in a bad mood, complaining of a headache. Hey! Wait a minute...
WEDNESDAY: We have a successful takeoff and almost landing. Just as things are, errr, coming to, errr, a head, the toddler shouts "Mummy I need youuuuuu", giving an alternative meaning to the phrase "Yes Mummy's coming!!!!".
THURSDAY: I show my husband the 'come to bed' eyes to which he responds "Why are you being weird?". Mission Impossible 3 comes on the telly which he has only seen 482 times so he watches that and I go to bed.
FRIDAY: We are determined. Even though I have fifteen minutes before I meet my mate, the kids are safely downstairs watching telly so we seize the moment. Now we're very sensitive to the sound of a child on the stairs. But what we're not trained for is the sound of a child creeping up the stairs. Our kids don't do quiet. We're in the middle of a successful missionary when in bursts the 8 yr old. My husband stops, drops and rolls. "Daddy! You've got your bum in the air!" laughs our son. "Yes," says Daddy, "It was itchy so Mummy was scratching it for me."

I don't know what my little experiment has proved. It's shown that you can occasionally have decent sex after children but it requires focus, intentionality and planning. There are 300 things that impact me being in the mood for sex and lack of spontaneity is number 56. I'm hoping that by at least trying I've got a bit of my sex life back from the Maternity Ward. So go try it yourself. If it doesn't make you sexy, at least it'll make you laugh.

Love
A Person Who May Have Had Sex After Children

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