Life and other catastrophes

Hello!! Remember me?!? I’m the blogger who always makes you feel better about your own life simply by virtue of it not being mine. Ok that’s not strictly true - there are parts of my life that are lovely. But, if you’re really honest, you probably read most of my posts and think ‘Thank the Lord/Buddha/the gods of rocky road/mascara/wine/sleep I’m not her’.

And, if you don’t, I promise you would if you could watch even a small highlights package from the past six or so weeks. Things. Have. Been. CRAZY. I have been back battling the urban jungle in the only way I seem to know how – with calamity - and the travesty has been I haven’t even had time to blog about it. I mean, that’s basically the whole point of having a blog, having somewhere to constructively channel life’s disasters. Instead I’ve been stuck just living them.

So let me tell you that not being another blogging mother isn’t nearly as much fun as being Not Another Blogging Mother!! I have never had more material for this blog than I have in recent weeks which is the very reason I have never had less time to write here. Every cliché you have ever heard about people combining work and small children? I’m living all of them. At any given point in time I have about fifty balls in the air and I run around all day trying to keep them from crashing around me.    

The funny thing is though, from the outside, my life doesn’t always look as chaotic as it actually is. It’s almost like I live parallel lives. I thought this the other morning as I sat on a full bus on the way to work. From the outside I looked just like most of my fellow commuters; fairly respectable, dressed in work clothes, with hair brushed and some make-up hastily applied. Beneath the surface? Different story.

I had been up since 4.30am (Miss L’s current favourite time to start the day) after being in and out of Miss I’s room all night (double ear infection). Since 6am I had been wrangling two unhappy little girls, the highlights of which included administering antibiotics into a wholly uncooperative three year old and trying to prepare three bowls of breakfast with one hand whilst also holding and attempting to soothe a fractious, tired and hungry ten month old. I showered and dressed myself in under five minutes but spent 30 minutes negotiating and cajoling the girls into their clothes. All the while I was expecting a knock on the door from our neighbours to discuss the girls’ overnight festivities.

I mentally high-fived myself about thirty times for the fact I didn’t need to get the girls out of the house – I just counted the minutes til our divine and delightful nanny turned up. After doing a handover with her, I then raced out the door and started thinking about the half a dozen stories that I would need to edit, write and publish that morning. 

I was also still getting over the shock and trauma of doing a whole Woolworths shop the day before WITHOUT MY WALLET. (And just for future reference if you ever do that, no they won’t accept payment with your credit card details that you have displayed on your iPad right in front of them or a bank transfer, also right in from of them. Not even if there is a screaming baby in the trolley and a nearly-crying mother at the cashier. They will insist you go home and return later. By which point you will also have your toddler with you and they will have, helpfully, lost half your shop which you will then have to do again. FUN!!!)

Anyway I was shattered and I sat there on the bus and marvelled that none of my fellow passengers would have cause to be aware of the zoo that my home life, just a few moments earlier entailed. I felt like a fraud, like I should have disclosed “If you think I look like a normal person going about life with ease – WRONG. Wrongity. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. You should see where I’ve just left!” Except I then realised that the same would apply to them.

I mean, their personal dramas might come in a different shape or size to mine (surely the chances are slim that two people on the same bus would have gone to a supermarket the day before without a wallet???) but whatever commotion their personal life might entail was invisible to me. To me, they all looked like perfectly ordinary, functioning adults without a care in the world. And, though I doubt anyone actually looked up from their iPhone to do this, if they had they probably would have concluded the same about me. 

And for some reason realising that made me feel better. We all have double lives – what we present on the outside doesn’t always mirror what’s happening on the inside. Different settings require different approaches. And the fact that for ten minutes a few times a week I look like any other commuter – unencumbered by anything other than the bus meandering along the road - just waiting to get to work? I like that. Truth be told it’s the most relaxing part of my week.

So. That’s me! How are you??? What have you been doing??? I wish I could say I was back for good but the truth is I’m probably not so I will just blog when I can.

PS As my loyal readers I should let you know that NABM got a mention on national television a few weeks ago. Somehow I don’t think the audience will be flocking here though. You can ready why here.