BC (Before Children) I think most of us have a rather idealised view of how life with children would be. Even when the local NCT Breastnazi told the class they should demand feed their babies, up to every 20 minutes 24/7, and responded to the question, but when do we sleep?, with a patronising well you should have thought about that before you decided to have children shouldn’t you? we thought the little tinkers would sleep and would probably learn to play with their own toys (or feet) and let us have a cup of tea like people in advertisements seem to be able to. Talking of advertisements, I think the TV license advert where the frazzled mum gives her dog the baby food and the baby the dog food because she is trying to do 27 things at once is the most realistic advert about parenting in the history of the world. But I digress.
The 6 year old has somehow forced me into a position where i’m cooking him sausages for breakfast. I feel like Shirley Valentine
— zooarchaeologist (@zooarchaeologis) March 13, 2014
It turns out that our kids only really sleep through from about 2 and a half, or drop off when the car is pulling into our road after making a fuss for the whole car journey. It turns out that they can play with their own toys but only if you’re watching them and giving their play your full undivided attention. And nothing is sacred. A small child will barge in and demand melon/Spider-Man/a tissue/shoes/conflict resolution if you’re on the toilet/in the shower/getting something out of the oven/making a cup of tea. The only time a child wont pester you is the 30 seconds before you start talking to another adult, and that’s only because they’re timing it to perfection so you can’t hear what the other person is saying. They will refuse point blank to go to the toilet before leaving the house and then be desperate to the point of turning a funny colour just after you’ve passed the point of easily turning around.
But on the other hand, they’re sheer exhilaration at doing something as simple as going on a swing or making you a card is so wonderful, you can sort of forgive them. For most of it anyway.