I have come to the
conclusion that I talk too much and not in a good way. When did this happen?
When did I become the kind of person who speaks about unnecessary matters to
the person at the supermarket checkout? After all, I doubt they want to know
why I’ve bought some new socks.
I used to take the
piss out of people like me and now on occasion I am so conversationally starved
that I will talk to anybody over the age of ten.
Staying at home and
watching your children grow is magical but can be quite isolating.
This is why play dates
are so important. Play dates are not just about the kids. They are about
coffee, salacious gossip and breaking up the day. Admittedly every conversation
is peppered with yells of “Jake…No” and “Don’t eat the tanbark.” The children
play together perfectly at first, fast- forward ten minutes and they’re pushing
each other off the climbing frame. The play date always finishes with tears….
normally me. It is so refreshing to see how similar other children are to yours
especially in regards to their behaviour. Some days you think that no other
child could possibly be as naughty as yours. The play date allays your fears and
allows you to share experiences about the trials and joys of raising children.
It is not an easy job; frankly working was a piece of cake to full time
mummying. At this point I must applaud single parents because some times I
struggle and I have a capable accomplice.
The truth is being at
home all day with the kids makes you a little bit crazy. Your brain isn’t being
used like it once was and you have to explain everything in a clear manner to
your toddler. This then overspills in to your adult world when the most inane
details emerge from your mouth. Mental note to self- your three year old needs
to know everything, the woman at Coles doesn’t.
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