I Don’t Want to Be Boring

The other day, when I had a chat with my work colleague about children she announced: “I do want to have children but not yet because I don’t want to be boring”.

I laughed with endearment and thought at th  first split of the second that I should feel offended or at least defensive. But I didn’t.

I certainly didn’t consider this an insult but this one little innocent statement definitely made me think.

Now, that I am a mother, am I boring? Am I really boring? And I can answer this with absolutely no hesitation. Yes I am. I am perceived as boring. My days of partying are over, I go to sleep at the same time as my daughter, I skip company’s drinks because I rush to my daughter, I don’t remember when I last went to the cinema with my husband, let alone friends.  What friends? I already have had a handful and now I don’t even make an effort to go for an occasional girls night out.

Socially I am dead! I also lost my mojo one could think. I would rather say on the other hand – my mojo transformed. Yes, it transformed. Now I have a mummy mojo and although there’s still a hole in my soul unfulfilled wig the things that I love and either sacrificed or lost energy to re- take up, I devote myself to my long awaited mother persona. 

And I am the least fun human on the planet at the moment but it is so worth it…

Moodleys Talk

This could be put into the basket of “I don’t know what to respond, other than: “Do you even think what you’re saying”.

We are going to a cafe for afternoon tea which I booked a few days ago.

Sanj: Have you already paid for this?

Me: Nooo, it’s a cafe. You don’t buy tickets for it. You pay for the food you eat.

Sanj: Do you know how much it is?

Me: It’s £6 per person.

Sanj: Including Arya?

*********

The problem here is that he doesn’t understand where he went wrong. 

Your Sunday Craze

Last Sunday was supposed to be a family day. I spent most Saturday styling while Arya was NOT missing me and having fun with her daddy. So at least yesterday was left for family of three extravaganza. As life has it, Arya was restless the whole of that night waking me up every 15 minutes (I’m actually not sure if I even slept) which resulted in the waking dead mode yesterday. So “having fun” ship has sailed, I would say and all I was trying to do was to not run into a brick wall to knock myself out, drank 3 coffees, tried going back to bed when Sanj took over “nanny-ing” our baby and even went for a run. Nothing helped. NOTHING!!! And cranky was my new fun. I still was doing my best to make that day count. We had a lunch booked in the Oval at the Wellesley Hotel and a glass of champagne came to the rescue for approximately one hour. It numbed the pain or maybe fooled my brained that I was OK. Someone enjoyed the food for sure though:    
    
    
 
 

Coming back home was very much desired because suddenly I regained my sleepiness and, you might think it is impossible, I was passed out during most of my walking. As my baby suffers from (I should probably say that it’s me who suffers, Arya not so much) detachment anxiety, instead of chilling on the sofa for most of the afternoon (which felt like the middle of the night) I was a designated trampoline (my belly) and a walking pole (my leg). My nipple has recently also changed its function as Arya now believes she can take my boob and walk with it as if it was a cup of Coke with a straw. I don’t think you have ever seen a baby breast-feeding from a standing position, half bent and leaning over a boob sucking the stretched nipple. The view – hilarious. The feeling – far from amusement. 

Oh and there came in Bastian, jumped casually on the sofa, straight from the wet garden convinced that he is simply helping me to find some entertainment. Because I’m perfectly fit for cleaning the paw mud spots off the couch. 

Oh and then I see Sanj standing on a puffs seat fiddling with the wall lamp and in the next second he is on a carpet in a lying position groping the carpet.

“Oh for gods sake, what did you do? And why now?”

I was really irritate. Almost as irritated as before leaving to the restaurant when I was banging the wardrobe doors shouting that I have nothing to wear and I’m not going. Sleep deprivation is a perfect excuse for tantrums. You’re not thinking straight, you feel all depressed and what else the life is throwing at you… 

So San-Jay is lying on the carpet and I have this odd need to ask why. And I do: “What the hell are you doing?

– Looking for a screw! Replied my husband with a large frown on his forehead and that’s a sign of a very very overheated brain from thinking. But why? Not much thinking is involved during a search for a screw. Unless… Unless it was “I’m blind” frown. Which definitely makes more sense. Also he got a bit pissed off that I’m questioning his (let’s face it: weird) behaviour.

– What screw?! What did you do?

– the screw. I heard it falling on the wood once and then it must have fell somewhere else. I don’t want Arya to find it and choke on it. 

On that he stood up and moved his search to the sideboard and the mantelpiece. Again – groping all the surfaces. I still didn’t get why the hell he was looking for a bloody screw. Luckily he continued: “I wanted to unscrew this lamp to wash it because it has been bothering me all the time and now that Chris is coming to do this work at our house I thought it was a good opportunity for me to do that. 

Certainly the motif did not speak to me. AT ALL.

Chris is a man who was scheduled for today to do some finishing touches on the wallpaper and other bits and bobs. Definitely not the wall lamp that Sanj was dabbling with. Can’t see the connection. And especially not after sleepless night. I just announced that I ain’t looking for no screw and lost a total interest in my husband’s actions. Until he started searching drawers and my bag. Then I burst out laughing (internally because on the outside my facial nerves were out of order and not able to make any motion). Because we have robot screws. Transformers, so to speak. One minute they are mere screws and the other – they unfold their wheels and wings and tiny dexterous hands to hide in closed spaces. 

All our furniture were shifted, including the sofa with my body on it. I was just making sure that Arya didn’t fall of me while jumping and banging her head against my belly. Other than that – be as it is. 

– I found it – I heard at some point but at that time I was preparing my tired body to get up and land in the bedroom. 

Yesterday was supposed to be a fun family day and in its twisted, new mum way it really was. I can laugh only now though.