Playdough Moments

Musings from Cath O'Brien, August 2005

There are never enough hours in the day.

Even as I write this column, two days after the actual deadline (sorry Leigh!) I've got several other things clamouring for my attention.  The dirty washing in the laundry is threatening to tip over and smother anyone who ventures in, let alone the clean washing pile on the couch.  The lounge floor is a minefield of toys and books, (what is it with all the 'small-pieces' toys that two year olds accumulate?) and there is no dinner in sight.  My beloved husband is working late, so is not here in his capacity as resident chef, tidier-upper and general bundle of warmth and smiles.  After I've finished off this column, I've promised to make mid-winter Christmas mince pies for our Parents Centre committee recruitment party. Seriously.

On the up side, the small boy is asleep in his bed, clutching a rugby ball, (really!) dreaming happy dreams and smelling of bath bubbles and toothpaste. When I get home from work via daycare, I ditch all the household jobs and focus on getting William dinnered bathed and jamied. We watch some of the news together - I'm raising a wellinformed child -  he spots all the police cars and ambulances but thankfully cannot understand any context yet.  After the headlines, we have stories in bed.  Lately it's The Lion in the Meadow ("Meadow!") or All in One Piece. ("Piece!")  After kisses, cuddles, "Night Nights" and "Love you", I shut his door, and walk down to face the detrius.

I'm sure you all know days like today.  For me, time when I am at home and William is asleep is time to do all those jobs that need doing.  I'm sure I do a bit much, what with working, mothering, a couple of committees and some semblance of a social life. But isn't that normal?  Don't most of us have a few things on our plates?  My other usual excuse is I'm a bit disorganised.  I do try to get onto things in time, but life gets a bit manic sometimes.

And it's about to get delightfully worse. I am pregnant again, with our much wanted second child.  Which might explain some of the chaos, and the missed deadlines. (So sorry Leigh!)  By the time you read this, I'll have outed myself at work, so a national magazine is no worries at all.  Anyway, the first trimester has had me wrecked!  That utter exhaustion, combined with hunger and nausea that I had entirely forgotten is back.  And it's made the whirlwind of my life that much harder, because I can't run quite as fast to keep up with myself.

But in a funny way, I think another baby will make things easier.  I won't be able to work as much, and certainly not for the first little while as breastfeeding tends to put paid to all that in the beginning.  I think life will become a bit more home based, with a bit less rushing around in the car, and rushing out the door.  I have no illusions about the laundry pile, or the dinner being on the table, or the toys all over the place.  All that will stay the same, and probably get worse.  But who cares.  I'll have another bundle of snuggly baby to tuck up to night night, smelling of baby dust and milk.  And perhaps William will share the Lion in the Meadow with his new brother - or sister, but Will thinks it is a brother.  I'll let you know if he's right next year.