Super (?) Mum

Today’s Mantra: Fresh Air Is Good For The Soul

Something is holding me back.

The universe doesn’t want me to go out.

I know its sounds crazy and you may think I am kooky but seriously it’s been two weeks (birthday parties and outings with husbands don’t count, I’m talking sanity-saving-during-the-week-kid-related-activities).

Today at 5:40am I awake refreshed and clear-headed. Probably because the last three mornings I got up at five and it finally made me retire early last night.

So I’m ready to head out with the kids, somewhere fun. I want to run around with them, watch their delight, listen to their soul-hugging laughter.

It is sparkly and sunny and warm.

I text a few people and no-one can join me but no matter. Despite his early start Leo won’t go down at 7:30am, or 8am but is perfectly agreed at 9am. Ok, fine going out at 11am will be great. Except  a dark cloud comes out, hovers and makes me shivery.

Julian has his bucket and spade ready (has done for hours) and will not compromise on the promised beach trip.

So 11am comes and goes yet Leo sleeps on.

At 11;45am Leo gets up and we are ready to go, bags are packed, lunch food and milk bottle now shoved in.

The weather is not looking great but we’ve got a little while I estimate…and then add a few more jumpers and a raincoat for good measure.

I am seriously laden when we stagger out of the car, prepared for our day of fun outing. I bravely do it in just one load so the kids are not left by themselves either in the car or at the playground.

No, no pram for Supermum. I can carry Leo and act as a pack mule.

We throw our stuff down and Julian heads off (frightening the other children as seconds before we left he insisted on wearing his Spiderman head mask thingy) and Leo gets his bottle.

Thankful everyone is happy for the moment I sit Leo next to me with a few toys and he promptly begins to eat the fallen teeny tiny pine cones from the trees. Every other second I lean over and fish one out of his mouth.

Not relaxing.

Julian has scared a few girls and as such they refuse to play with him. He runs back to me and asks for the promised baby-cino. We wander over and I also grab a coffee to take-away.

We sit back down, Leo is not happy he is missing out on the coffee ritual. I believe he takes in extra pine-cones to spite me.

No coffee is drunk (don’t worry Julian has downed his baby-cino and has chocolate smeared over his face and resembles the joker) when my phone rings.

Some tradies at my house. Yep I’d forgotten yesterday when he asked if I’d be in at lunch-time I assured him I would be.

Quick pack up and thank God Julian took our departure surprisingly well. Head home and arrive at our house to let them in.

At least the kids find something to do. They pretend the table is a ship (obviously traumatised from their ocean visit that was cut short).

But at home I can’t find the lunch I’d packed.

I’ve bloody left it at the beach….only I remember looking back at our empty spot wistfully and there was nothing there.

I check in the car three times. Nothing.

So the kids eat a few cucumbers. That’ll do them….

My husband comes home and opens the fridge, pulls something out, asks if he can eat it.

Our lunch!!!

I’d put it in the fridge.

I’m losing it…

As for my Super-mum heroics with all the carrying earlier?

I’m the chick walking around at home with the medicinal glass of wine and The Wiggles ice-pack on my lower back.