Part Thirteen
Motherhood, hmmmm.
Is it just me or did all mothers, at one time, wish they were career girls. I mean real career girls, not mums who worked outside the home.
I remember going off to work, in my single days, with my hair fixed up, make-up nicely applied, sleek hosiery and an expensive purse.
A few years later, if I managed to get out of the house at all, I usually looked less than chic. My purse had been replaced by an enormous tote that housed everything needed to look after the needs of four preschoolers. Those needs were many. My eldest at three and a half years, was toilet trained, but still needed to have a couple of pairs of spare panties.
The middle one, at two and a half was determined to think “dry” but leaked a lot. She wanted to be a big girl and refused diapers. Those were the days when I thought nothing of undoing the knots in urine soaked shoelaces…with my teeth.
The twins were kept dry in diapers but the necessities of two babies take up a lot of space in a tote bag. I used to look like a pack animal with odd toys sticking out of pockets, one child hanging on to my coat, another child trying to get away from parental control while I pushed two more kids in a stroller. I didn’t drive at that time, so getting anywhere meant either walking or taking a bus.
Getting on an English double decker bus, with kids, is an adventure in itself. When I saw the bus coming, I would hold both of the twins under one arm, fold up the stroller and heave it onto the bus. I would then toss daughter number one onto the platform, with a threat to not go upstairs. She ignored this, every time, and disappeared up the metal stairs as quick as her legs could carry her. Daughter number two always had a fear of being left, so trying to put her, one handed, onto the bus platform was not easy. She would cling to my arm or leg and scream, while I tried to haul myself, the twins and my huge bag on to the bus.
If there was a kind hearted conductor on the bus, he would help me get the stroller stowed away, in the luggage compartment. If not, I had to try putting it into the space whilst trying not to fall as the bus jerked on it’s way. I would then have to haul all my family and assorted belongings, up the stairs, where daughter number one had taken herself to.
It was a half hour trip to the next town which gave me a little time to compose myself before having to do the whole procedure, in reverse. Not surprisingly, I learned to drive that year and going out for the day was so much easier. However, once I got where I was going, I had to do the whole thing with stroller, a would be escapee and a hanger on, none of which made shopping any easier.
Groceries and other purchases would be hung from hooks that clipped around the handle of the stroller. This was helpful but made the stroller tend to tip up, if I didn’t keep the weight off the back wheels. By the time I had gone from shop to shop, to get the week’s supplies, I was tired and so were the little legs of the two toddlers.
One day, as I was on my way back to the bus, I took a short cut over a pedestrian walkway. This brought me to the bus terminal which made boarding the bus easier as it was parked and I had lots of time to get my entourage aboard. Being parked also gave me time to stow all the family, safely downstairs and then bring down the wilful, eldest daughter, who once more had disappeared up the stairs. Imagine my surprise when a man coming towards me opened his raincoat and flashed me. For a moment, I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it. It seemed so ludicrous that I looked like I would be in the least interested in what he had to show me, while I was loaded down with bags and four small children.
I guess he expected a better reception as he turned round walked past me again then, he turned round once more so he could approach me again. I honestly didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, I was so tired and so not interested. Later on, I thought of all sorts of witty, scathing remarks I could have made, but at the time I kept quiet.
During that era of four preschoolers, I once had a problem with a back tooth. I went to the dentist and her said it needed to come out. No problem, however it was agony to have him work on the tooth. He then declared there was an abscess and it should have been treated before the tooth had been extracted. Anyway, he gave me some pills and I went home. That night I got no sleep and the following morning I was still in pain, I asked Dave if he would stay home from work and watch the four girls, while I went back to bed. His response…just lie down and don’t do anything!
I tried to follow his advice, after he went to work. I lay on the couch with a hot water bottle under my swollen cheek. The kids really thought this was wonderful, all four of them sat astride me and played horsey.
Anyone who asks a mom if she works, really means do you go out to work. It takes a mom to know just how much work goes into looking after children, keeping the house clean and tidy, doing laundry, trying to prepare nutritious meals, on a budget and generally acting as CEO of the home. Many women do all this and still handle an outside job, juggling all the household chores at the same time.
What do her children think of what she does for them. Well, when they are young, they think she is marvellous, the kisser of boo-boos, the mender of broken toys, the maker of cookies, the one who scares away the monster under the bed, in fact, mom is everything to them. Give them a few years and that same mom is the one who will not let them wear fashionable clothes to school, get a tattoo, pierced ears, go on dates and insists on a ridiculous curfew. She is old fashioned and mean, she just keeps you around to do the chores and to make your life miserable.
As they get into their late teens, kids begin to feel differently, they think their mom is behind the times and pities her for having to drive a mini van, instead of something classy. They can’t wait until they have their own car, but meanwhile make fun of yours, even while driving it. She has old fashioned ideas about clothing and hair but she is willing to let you suit yourself about your clothing. She nags you and keeps on about self respect, drugs and fast driving, probably because she never experienced any fun in her life. However, they are still glad to have mom there to call on in emergencies.
As they get into their twenties and thirties, they start to think that maybe mom is not so dumb after all. They are kind of surprised that mom and dad are happy to leave them to their own devices, while they go on vacation. Mom now is driving something classy while the kids are now raising their own brood. Moms now go out to lunch with friends and are not always ready to drop everything to babysit grandchildren.
Your kids wonder what happened to change mom into a fun loving, ready for anything woman and it is now they who have to struggle with diaper bags and strollers. Mom has now turned into that wonderful, independent person, she is confident, can afford regular hair styling, she no longer carries big totes and has a diary for social engagements. She now has the best of both words, she is a grandma.