I have to start this week off by tipping my hat to full time mothers. How you find the time to wash yourself, let alone eat is beyond me. I can’t exactly write about food because I can’t actually remember eating. Last weeks column ended with my sister having a C-Section and me being delighted. While my sister recuperated in hospital I took charge of her four year old daughter Ella, my niece. Ella is the most well behaved little ‘gringo’ (as I called her) I have ever had the joy (pardon the pun) of being around.
That said, I am worn out. An average day involved getting up, making sure she was fed. Playing and dancing for a while. Off to the hospital to visit mom, dad and baby. Then feeding her again. Some more dancing and singing. Then getting her home for dinner. Some more playing. Then came bath time. Then book time. Then sleep. By the time she drifted off I was falling around with tiredness. Every night I was in bed by eight thirty. I didn’t eat regularly, mostly just picking at what I made Ella. I didn’t drink much water, just the odd sip from her little travel jug.
I shall never again take for granted the joy of being able to get up and prepare myself a breakfast. Then saunter around preparing myself a chilled drink that I am able to carry around all day and drink at my leisure. Not to mention the leisurely stroll around the supermarket being able to choose what I like and when I want it. All you women who hold down jobs and raise children are my heros. I honestly do not know how you do it. I barely had time to use the lavatory.
When Kim and the baby got home after four days things got hilarious. My sisters hormones were all over the place. The house resembled that of the display window at Mothercare and no amount of cleaning made the place look tidy. Then the baby refused to take the boob so I had to drive her to get a breast pump. This was hilarious. The massive selection of pumps made my head spin. The electric one she had was too hard on the nipples. There was one I tried to convince her to buy that had too bottles which you strapped to your boobs, the photo had a topless woman working in the office. Kim declined.
We settled on a normal pump which when you pumped real hard made your nipples look like coctail sausages. This was enough to make me thank the lord for not blessing me with children. My partner and I have been unfortunate in the past and experienced the loss that comes with miscarriage. While we would have jumped at the chance of having children and I know we would have made great parents I have come to realise that there are pros and cons to having children.
My sister is one of those women who was just made for mothering. I am the fun Aunt that sings and dances and is always there to lend a hand but I would be lying if I said I’m not looking forward to getting back to my routine. I’m writing this while waiting to board my plane to return to Ireland. I left Kim, Ella and Charlotte all crying for different reasons and as I type this at the boarding gate at JFK with tears in my eyes I cannot wait to see my wife.