Not Quite Supermom

Thursday, 19 February 2009

Anyone for a Peanut Butter sandwich?

Much to my husband "chagrin" (yes..I had to google it)..I am not only not SuperMom, but I also fail to make the grade when it comes to being a SuperWife.
There are many reasons for this..kids, dogs, house, me, him. But my most shining example was exacted approximately 9 months ago and takes the form of a peanut butter sandwich.

Mr G came home from work one evening. This in itself was not a surprise as it is a regular fixture on our daily calendar.

What did surprise me was that on that particular occasion our normal daily banter of "How was your day dear?" was replaced by a mini diatribe by Mr G involving the lunches taken into work by his fellow workmates.

Apparently their wives make them very lovely lunches.

I don't make him any lunch at all.

There are reasons why I dont make him lunch. I am busy doing breakfast. I have to make the kids their school lunch. I never know what he might be doing at lunch. Maybe he would like to get out the office for lunch? Maybe I dont have enough room in my brain to plan another meal?

Anyway I took it that he meant business as by 11.30pm that night he was still going on about their sandwiches.

To say I was quite annoyed would be an understatement.

I had a small baby, 2 other kids, 2 dogs and 5 students living in my house. And I was still feeding my baby myself.

Mr G was not having any of it...and went on...and on...and on..and on about it.

I went to bed very unhappy with Mr G.

But once in bed (very tired and quite close to crying) I had a flash of inspiration.

The next morning I got up very cheerful. I didnt mention last nights little "discussion" and just got on with things in a bright and breezy manner. I also quickly put together a peanut butter sandwich and wrapped it in lovely clear cellophane for Mr G.

When Mr G came downstairs to go to work I presented him with his lunch.

He was really surprised. And actually quite grateful.

I felt a bit bad about what I was about to do.

This is what happened:

Me: "Here. I made you some peanut butter sandwiches to take to work today." *fake grin*
Mr G: "Thank you" *slight look of bewilderment*
Me: "Oops. Just forgot one small thing...."

At that point I took the sandwiches back from Mr G.

Then I dropped the pack of sandwiches on the floor, jumped up and down on them until they were flatter than a pancake, picked them up and handed them back to him.

Me: "Have a lovely lunch dear."
Mr G: " ummm..yes..thanks."

I am happy to say that Mr G took his peanut butter sandwiches into work as a shining example of what happens to your lovely packed lunch when you have a baby.

I did it for you girls...

Saturday, 7 February 2009

Birth stories

I dont know what it is about me but I am fascinated by hearing other peoples birth stories. Some are funny, some horrific and some amazing..the most fabulous part is that they are all different. Having a baby is such an ice breaker.

The difference between what you think will happen and what actually does always leaves me marvelling at the funny ways life works.

With my first baby I recall stressing out pre labour about letting the student midwife who had followed me throughout my pregnancy deliver the baby. My sister in law who has had 4 babies told me very gently: "stop being silly because when you finally get round to delivery you wont care if the lady with the drinks trolley delivers the baby...just as long as SOMEONE gets it out."

And never has a truer word been spoken.

At that point I was begging for a C-section or the ConeHead Maker (TM) aka the Ventouse. I had even packed a special ConeHead hat for our baby to wear.

By the time I had my 3rd baby I had totally given up on any specific birth plan.
In fact when the midwife asked me what my plan was I told her this:
"Get it out. As quickly and painlessly as possible.
Give me any and all drugs you have.
Dont let my husband see and DEFINATELY dont give him any important jobs like pushing buttons (i had been traumatised by this in my 2nd labour.)
Do not let him hold the gas and air..he uses too much.
Dont let me go to the toilet on my own as Im worried I might just have it while Im there.
Dont leave me on my own with my husband as I dont think he could deliver the baby if required and I really dont want him to.
And please..give the baby a good wipe before you put it on me as all that blood and gooey stuff will really ruin the moment for me."

She gave me a funny look at the last request..and maybe this sounds a bit harsh but it really was quite important to me. In fact I gave birth in the water and as the cord was so tightly wrapped round the baby there wasent much of it available so the midwives gave me the biggest cord wedgie EVER. Maybe it was revenge for the baby wipe comment but that wedgie took my poor piled bottom months to recover from.

In fact it was possibly the most painful part of the entire thing.

You see why the Anusol is such a hugely important part of my hospital kit.

In the end once they had the baby out the midwives asked me if I wanted to hold her. I shook my head. Then they asked if I wanted to see her. Again I shook my head but had a small peek and looked away. My response shocked me because for months I had been crying at all the birth stories on the Discovery channel and thinking about how I was going to react when I finally gave birth. But when it came to it, I just wasent ready for it. It had nothing to do with her, or not loving her or not feeling a "bond." My bottom was sore from the wedgie, I was shaky and I was naked in a bath that was getting distinctly colder by the second.

That is not how it happens on the Discovery channel.

Anyway, the purpose of this post is really to say that everyones story is different, how everyone reacts is different and thats the really great part about having babies. So..if you are abit like me and didnt go for the SuperMom whale music, candles, yoga, acupuncture, water birth, no pain relief SuperHero effort at birth..who cares?? As long as everyone is OK thats whats important.

There will be plenty of opportunities to try and become a SuperMom later on.

When your bits/ stitches/ C-section scar dont hurt so bad.

 

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