Well what a week! What a fantastic week. What a super-proud, supermum week!
This week has been full of wonderful memory-making for me and my boys. And let me tell you, I don’t use the term ‘supermum’ lightly. In fact I have never referred to myself as that before. (And, to be fair, my week is probably par for the course for lots of mums, but for me it was a Supermum week.)
Firstly, I actually did some exercise this week that didn’t involve a pushchair. Yes, I put on my sports gear, left the baby at home (with my husband of course, not home alone!) and went to an exercise class. A ‘piloxing’ class to be exact. And as a friend suggested, this is not actually some form of medieval torture, but it is a mash-up of Pilates, boxing and dancing. And it was really good. I really enjoyed it, got a bit sweaty and didn’t wet myself (see my previous post to understand why that really could have happened). A successful fitness experience! (I could have done without the gobby youngsters in front of me, who talked throughout the class and stopped for a cigarette halfway though, but it felt good that I seemed to be more fit than them, after having three children and whilst carrying a few stone more than I should!)
So the week was off to a good start.
Tuesday was the start of baby swimming lessons for me and Boy 3. And it was so wonderful. Such a lovely bonding opportunity for us. He looked so cute in his super-tight swimming shorts (designed to keep the baby poo out of the pool!), with all his lovely rolls of fat! And I think he enjoyed it, even though he didn’t actually smile, because he didn’t seem to object! This was a major tick in the ‘things I can do with a baby on my own’ box. I managed to find the place, get us both changed, enjoy the class and get us both changed back again without either of us crying or drowning. Result!
Wednesday was Boy 1’s birthday. His 10th birthday. I cannot believe he is in double figures. It seems like only yesterday he was the chubby little baby that I was taking to swimming lessons. But anyway, nostalgia aside, it was another great day. We managed presents, croissants and birthday cake before school and I even managed to load up his new iPod, ready to go that morning. Then, while my older boys were at school, Boy 3, his daddy and I went for a walk around Leeds Castle, our baby’s favourite place to sleep.
In the afternoon Boy 3 and I went to rhyme time and weigh in (16 lb and 15 ozs – boom!)
Rhyme time is a lovely time for babies. A simple but thoroughly enjoyable half an hour. Half an hour of singing nursery rhymes with other mummies and babies. Often it is the simple pleasures that are the best. Boy 3 loved it and was enthralled by the hand puppets. He is coming to that lovely age, at five months, where he is still a cute, chubby, cuddly baby, relying on us for everything, but is starting to give so much more back. When he reached out to touch the tiger puppet I was holding, smiled and giggled, my heart almost burst with joy. And yes we had a tiger on Old Macdonald’s Farm, but he didn’t seem to mind!
Thursday the snow came! So Boy 3 and I had a nice day at home, playing with toys together. More interaction. More cuddles. More time-wasting together!
Friday – coffee with a lovely friend, to chat about all things laundry and blogging!
It has been such a lovely week and what maternity leave should be all about. Spending time with my baby boy. Giggling with him. Capturing moments. Sharing ‘firsts’. And I have also had time for my older boys, to talk with them, cuddle them, read with them and play with their homemade football game (it’s amazing what a seven-year old can do with a shoe box, some tinfoil and some colouring pens!)
I really have felt like Supermum this week.
However, if you know me personally, you will know that it is not my style to brag about my outstanding parenting skills. It is not my way to consider myself great. It is not my thing to consider myself a super anything.
This post has been written with my tongue in my cheek!
And here’s why…
Our house is a mess!
Yes I may have done wonderful things with my boys, but my porch looks like a boot room, my hallway looks like an airport bag drop and my kitchen looks like a laundry room. My boys will wear crumpled clothes and risk tripping over bags, resulting in serious head injuries, with every step they take in our home!
Supermum or superslum?
Damn you mummies that can do it all . You make me look bad!