Not Quite Supermom

Tuesday, 6 October 2009

My Nemesis

Obviously if you are going to attempt to become a SuperMom you are going to need to get yourself a Nemesis. EVERY Superhero and Wannabe Supermom has one.

Buzz Lightyear had the evil Emperor Zurg. Superman had Lex Luther. Spiderman had The Green Goblin (whose head I discovered yesterday placed under my pillow by my "mini mafia" in a way highly reminiscent of The Godfather.) Batman had...shit..hundreds of archenemies. That Gotham City is sooo not a place to raise kids.

And NotQuiteSupermom has.... LOLA.

Not her real name.

For obvious reasons.

Unfortunately for me my Nemesis lives right over the street. Even Superman didnt have to put up with seeing Lex every single time he looked out the window.

Lola is perfect.

EVEN HER HUSBAND IS PERFECT.

What I find amazing is that not only do we live opposite each other...we are the EXACT opposite of each other. Its like finding your opposite twin...if that makes sense. I am short, dark haired and, dare I say it...possibly NOT a contestant for America's Next Top Model. Lola is tall, glamourous and waif-like with amazingly well behaved blonde hair. We do have one or two things in common..which just makes the whole thing much much worse.

1.We both live opposite on the same street.
2.We both moved in within months of each other.
3.We both spent the best part of a year demolishing half our houses and rebuilding them.
4.Our eldest children are the same age. (I have a boy and she has a girl.)
5.We were both pregnant with our 2nd child and due at the same time. (I had a boy, she had a girl. ) It goes without saying that Lola had the smallest baby bump ever..whereas I had to stop driving at about 7 months as I could no longer reach the wheel or the pedals. Obviously I HAD to go one better and have ANOTHER baby. Presumably just so I have a good reason why I can never be as perfect as her.
6.We both have the same type of cars. Except hers is clean.
7. We both have the same cream carpets..chosen by an interior designer in her house. Chosen by me in mine. Which can only be A Good Thing. Except mine aren't cream anymore....

.......

Let's take a brief trip together into "Lola's World".....


Household

Lola's home is like a never ending merry-go-round of people there to help.

From gardeners to car valeters...to curtain makers and interior designers...nannies to dog walkers..it appears there is NOTHING this woman can do by herself..

On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays she has a cleaner who works all day long.

On Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Fridays I too have a cleaner who works all day.

Me.

I give myself Thursdays off.


On Wednesdays, while Lola is out playing tennis at the local posh tennis club, a dog groomer comes round to her house to pamper her dogs.

Her dog is about the size of a rat.

Occasionally, on Wednesdays, I attempt to hoick 35kilos (x2) of pure dog into a lovely warm soapy bath.

By Friday I may have finished cleaning up the mess.

If I'm lucky.


Children

It goes without saying that Lolas house doesnt even look like children live there. There are NO fingerprints on the cream walls...NO squashed strawberries on the stairs and, even more shockingly, NO mini soldiers ready to gorge out a piece of your foot when you tread on them accidentally...

Lolas children look like they have stepped out of a catalogue. My children look like they haven't seen a bath in months (even if they just had one) or that they totally missed their mouths when they had lunch (which they did) or that they have been digging up the garden all day (which they have.)

Once when we were all invited over to lunch my children enticed her children out into her garden to make mud pies. All over the new decking. Lola was not best impressed.

However I found the whole experience rather uplifting.


Romance

Remember that Perfect Husband that Lola has?

Be prepared to be VERY jealous...

On cold mornings I go out and scrape the ice from Mr Gs car in my pyjamas, teeth chattering, hands turning blue JUST SO he wont be late to work.

LOLAs husband comes out and starts her car so its nice and warm for her when she leaves.

For tennis..

Life is such a bitch sometimes...

Occasionally our husbands mow the lawn at the same time. I catch myself looking out the front window of my house at her husband (mental picture: Tanned, toned, top off, youthful boyish looks..ok..I know..ENOUGH!) And then turning to look out the back window at mine (mental picture: red faced, swearing, kicking the sodding lawn mower...in his gardening clothes...) *Sigh*

The worst happened on Valentines Day....

Mr G is not known for his love of anything romantic. That morning I had a Valentines card from him with a picture of a dog on it (what is he trying to say...DONT overanalyze) and a little note from the dogs:

"Roses are red
Violets are blue
we would like a walk today
How about you?"

I took the point.

About as soon I got back a Florist delivery man turned up at my door. With the BIGGEST and most AMAZING bunch of flowers you have ever seen. They even had a "I love you" balloon attached to them.
NotquiteSupermom (opening door): "Oh. MY. God. They are the most beautiful flowers. Ever."
Florist delivery man: "Yes they are really stunning aren't they."
NotquiteSupermom: "Yes. And they have a Balloon!"
Florist delivery man: "I dont suppose you would mind taking them in . The lady over the road isn't in right now...*(Wednesday=tennis)*...would you be so kind as to pop them over for her when she gets back?"
NotquiteSupermom: ".....oooooooo...k..."

Cue the following conversation when Mr G got back from work:

Notquitesupermom: "why dont you ever get me flowers?"
Mr G: "why? Do you want some?"
Notquitesupermom: "Well....not hugely..but sometimes it would be nice?"
Mr G; "Its funny you should mention flowers as I was out at lunch today and I walked past a florists."
Notquitesupermom: (holding breath).."And?"
Mr G: "And I thought about buying you some."
Notquitesupermom: "And....???"
Mr G: "well..I nearly did..but I was in a bit of a hurry to get my sandwich for lunch. So I didnt bother. But, hey, I Thought about it.."

Hmmm...

I am suspecting that A MAN may have made up the phrase "Its the Thought that counts."

Bitter?

Moi?

Dont be silly!! xxx




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