Most of my time spent on the toilet involves my 1 year old sitting on my knee. It takes me back to the early days. Isn’t it cruel that the painkillers they provide us with after labour have the side affect of chronic constipation? What new Mum has time for that? Really? None.I used to breastfeed my son on the toilet as I had no choice. True story. Keep calm and carry on was always my moto. This week though for some reason I am having many a moment that I don’t feel very calm. I am getting agitated. I just want one minute. One minute to go to the bathroom on my own. I can feel a poem coming on:
I just want a minute for a cup of tea,
Don’t get me started on a private wee,
A 30 second shower is just never enough,
Most of this morning I have been in the buff
Yip another true story. It was rude enough of me to attempt to have a shower. Trying to put clothes on is just taking the absolute Michael – my son goes nuts. I can picture what he is thinking –
‘Jojo (yip he calls me Jojo at the moment) what are you doing to me? Grabbing the toilet brush off me, wiping my hands AGAIN, putting me in the cot, going in my shower, my favourite place to play AND without me. Now you have the cheek to ignore me again and look through your wardrobe?! You don’t need clothes on Mummy, pick me up now I need your attention’.
I feel a song coming on – just call me ‘The Real Slim’. I am standing in my bedroom contemplating what to wear thinking ‘I can’t hear my own thoughts through the sound of this crying’. What is wrong? Why won’t he just follow big sis next door for a Teddy Bears Picnic and let me find something to wear? I have not long changed his nappy, he has had plenty to eat, plenty to drink, he slept well last night – why does he want me to pick him up again for the 220th time of the morning? I just want one minute.
It should be flattering that this beautiful, big blue eyed wee boy is following me around. I should love how much he wants to be with me EVERY single minute this week. I am sure there will come a day when plenty girls are hoping he will give them attention. I am sure I will one day feel a little ache when I see him fall in love. When I know there is a person in his life he is as obsessed as being with as he is currently with me.
These thoughts help me a little bit but not always. They don’t change the fact that I just crave one minute to gather my thoughts. One minute to sit on the toilet and not have to worry about little cheeky Charlie chewing on a toilet brush, jumping in a wet shower, pulling on my legs, pulling an entire toilet roll apart. Do you know how many times I had to scrub his hands today? I lost count.
Then there are the times I get a bit smug. I think to myself this is all too easy. I am sitting on the loo and it is so peaceful and then I hear the stair gate banging away. Oh no did I not lock that thing? Oh no I was sure I closed the doors leading to the hall. Off the toilet I get and run to the wee monkey crawling up the stairs like a dog on heat. I had closed the doors but my 3 year old just loves to open them.
I do get cocky – there are moments when it goes so quiet and I realise it seems too good to be true. I would say 80% of the time this is correct. I am a fool for assuming I could safely hit the bog in peace. I come back to either a kitchen covered in paprika, bay leaves and curry powder (mental note must remember to buy those cupboard locks) or a floor covered in stock cubes half chewed to bits OR pen all over the chairs/walls/doors.
As for a private bath with my finest ESPA oils and their scented candles – non existant. The oils are soon replaced with pee from my 3 year old who jumps in the bath with me. My magazine is thrown overboard in replace for those annoying plastic dolphins.
I try my best to take deep breaths and just hold it together. Some days I feel like I am running out of patience. Some days being a Mum comes so naturally to me and other days I find it the hardest job in the world. I find myself counting down the hours until naptime or bedtime.
When that time comes I sit calmly and look down at this little guy who just won’t give me one minute and feel nothing but pure love. He is not trying to annoy me. He just wants to be with me. He depends on me. He likes having me around. He doesn’t care where we are – be it the toilet, the shower, the sofa – he just wants me beside him. He loves me. He needs me. As I hear those soft baby snores I think ‘just one more minute’ to enjoy his embrace. Then it’s warm cups of tea and private toilet time #party!