During the school holidays my Mum came down here for a few days to spend with the kids. With her she bought puzzles and bits and pieces and my very least favourite thing: craft. Craft packs. A sew-a-bear thingy and this terrible mini pom pom thing that had bits of fucking pom poms and teeny tiny double sided backs of tape squares that went everywhere. Mum doesn’t get my deep dislike and distrust of craft activities. I mean I do like to partake in the creation of stuff – just not when it has to be organised and cleaned up by me. If there was a craft place to go to, a craft camp, maybe I would get into it, but not here, not on my watch.
And my dislike of some parenting activities is not limited to the craft, oh no! There are HEAPS of things that I don’t like. I don’t just blame craft! I HATE, and I mean loathe the park. The standing there, the pushing of the swings, the being ordered around from one activity to the next by a small dictator making you do the things that you don’t want to do. The awkward chats with other parents. All of it….bluergh.
I have compiled a list of things that I really don’t love about raising small people. No one really mentions this stuff to you when you read the baby books do they?
Kids love this shit and while it is appealing when it comes out of the packet and it’s all fresh and lovely and non mixed, 3.5 minutes later it’s been squashed together into a brown ball and there are little bits of play doh crumbs that either get wedged into your table cracks never to be removed again. These also dry up and leave a trail everywhere. The odd play doh crumb will also get smooshed into carpet and no amount of vanish carpet removal will get that out.
My very least favourite part of domestic duties (and you KNOW my passion for bed making) is the making of a double bunk bed. That top bunk is IMPOSSIBLE to get neat and even (essential in my house) and can take lots of lifting, bruised wrists, arms and split nails. It’s HARD. If you don’t need to get a bunk bed, don’t.
School sand pits
Somehow, when your child goes to daycare of preschool, or in the case of my oldest, primary school they get sand in their shoes. BUCKETS of sand. Sometimes you remember to empty it outside, other times your kids can forget and they open their shoes and a beach worth of sand and fucking bark goes everywhere. I think it breeds in little people’s shoes.
Harper is a repeat offender of this. It actually drives me MENTAL. I talk very loudly, every time she does it, asking her to “NOT PULL ON MY CLOTHES” and people look at me, they do! Imagine being bothered by that! But I am. It really pisses me off. Especially on the days when the verbal demands can drag you down, you get physically dragged down too! Sometimes I also get foot standing. Oh that’s a good one too! The foot stomping while you are standing in a line for the post office or bank. IT HURTS. STOP IT ALREADY.
Extra curricular activities
I know kids have to learn stuff, I do. And I encourage growth and development, I do! I just don’t want to sit in a hot humid swimming pool area watching my kid have a terrible time. Or even a good time. HOURS of my life have been spent at swimming lessons, or ballet or gymnastics not to mention the thousands of dollars. I have finally gotten on board to get my friends and their kids involved so we can at least chat while this goes on.
Stray lego pieces
Missing puzzles pieces
Endless bits of plastic crap that cannot be thrown out
Paintings and drawings and more paintings that cannot be thrown out
Textas with no lids, pencils unsharpened
Throwing stuff in the bin and being caught out when small person discovers their painting/toy/texta
I could go on, but I’m sure I’ve given just the right of ammo for people to tell me what a terrible and ungrateful mother I am so I’ll leave it at that. I KNOW I’m not alone, and it’s OK, you can say this stuff out loud. It’s OK!
Tell me, what’s your arch nemesis? Is it the sound of a kid ratting through a lego box over and over again so loudly that you think you might just really, actually REALLY LOSE YOUR MIND? Or mini fucking pom poms?