Okay, so here’s the deal, I’m *cough* thirty-three *cough* with four children, a mortgage the size of the national debt and a very sensible people carrier in the drive. But sometimes I still have to remind myself that I’m a grown-up.
The minute I step into school, the smell alone takes me right back and I feel like I am the pupil – not the mummy! On parents evening I feel like the class rebel just waiting to be told off and the sight of the Headmaster automatically makes me think that I must have done something wrong. Sometimes I have to remind myself that I now have three of my four children in school!
I catch myself watching the Disney channel and forming highly inappropriate crushes on way too young Jonas brothers. Although to be fair, some of those shows are better than the stuff that is churned out on grown-up channels at prime time. And in my defense, I’m technically not old enough to actually be the mother of a Jonas brother so that makes it okay. Sort of.
I bought myself a really sensible raincoat for this Winter. Well, I say sensible, it is practical in that it is super waterproof and even has a hood but it is in a highly non-sensible pattern! My eleven year old refuses to be seen with me in it “People will see you coming for miles Mummy, I’ll be known as The Girl Who Has The Mummy In The Flowery Coat’.” And of course when I tested it out in the rain the other day, I teamed it with jeans that were a bit too long so got awfully soggy and my beloved leopard print pumps that soak up water like a sponge. So by the time I got to school, my top half was sensibly dry and warm while my bottom half was more, ermm, squelchy! I’m useless at dressing like a grown-up!
I still can’t change a duvet cover without getting all of a fluster and ending up climbing inside it to get it into the corners. With five beds to change, you’d think that I would be as efficient as a chambermaid at the Ritz by now but I’m quite the opposite. It is just one of those grown-up jobs that I have never quite got the hang of. In fact, I am so bad at it that I’m seriously considering making my eldest two do their own. Of course, I secretly hope that they will find the knack to it that I never have and they might be able to tell me!
I spend hours trawling the internet for new Blythe dolls when my Other Half thinks I am on there to compare home insurance quotes. To be honest, even if I was looking for the best deal, I still wouldn’t understand it anyway! All that talk of liability that, interested parties this.. no clue! Now, Blythe dolls, those I can understand. How can I be a grown-up when I still play with collect dolls?! And we won’t even talk about the time I tried to convince my Other Half that I *needed* a Sindy house to make up for the childhood trauma of coming home to find that mine had been donated to my snotty and much younger cousins..
I do have moments of madness when I think, right, I can do this, I can be a grown-up. Like in the Summer holidays, I bought myself an all singing, all dancing super organised diary thing to help me be more organised for when the offspring went back to school. But when it arrived, I placed it somewhere safe *ahem* and we were halfway through September before I actually remembered to find it! But saying that, I did enjoy playing with the stickers that it came with, there is even one for appointments to the beauticians – how cute is that?!
I don’t know, is it just me? When are you supposed to feel like a real grown-up? I just don’t think that I ever will *giggle*Photo Credit