I really want to be a rock star parent/fit mummy but I just can’t get it together. There are times like today where I can get one right, but it’ll never be both.
I started off like a total freaking over achiever this morning. I swore inside my head only 31 times which is a personal record. I actually started picturing myself wearing make-up and Lorna Jayne clothing while hanging out with the braiding mums doing kid drop off. My car wouldn’t smell like month old apple cores and I’d no longer find little snotty boogers on my walls or couch. Yup, that was the crap inside my head this morning.
I honestly smashed it…I bound (read, got) out of bed without hitting the snooze button, the kids turned off the television as soon as I made an appearance, hugs and kisses all round, breakfast eaten by 7:15, clothes on by 7:30, Maclean unpacked the dishwasher without whinging, Molly had time to read a book out loud, Memphis did her word box, no one asked me to help them get dressed while I was doing a poop, teeth were brushed (only two arguments) by 7:50, I remembered where a school hat was hidden so I didn’t have to walk back inside searching, kids were at school before assembly started and they all had hats and undies on. KILLED IT.
Now it was my turn… I’m trying to make myself be one of those MILF type mums and get their body back into shape. It would probably help if I gave up bad food, coffee and alcohol but they’re the things that make me semi reasonable to be around. I went straight from school drop off to a Leisure Centre with a girlfriend for a spin class followed by a swim. Don’t be too impressed by this as it’s for an event on the 30th of October we’re in and I don’t want to embarrass myself by stroking out at the start of the race.
Got on the bike feeling awesome and then realised I was wearing an ill-fitting pair of undies. I have never had this experience before but apparently it’s not uncommon. They kept inching themselves in whenever the instructor yelled “and UP we go” so up I’d go and down would go my hand to try and help my bits out – now If you’re wearing Lorna freaking Jane lycra/stretchy/’lift your arse up’ pants you have no chance in hell of helping anything out.
Holy shizenhausen, It was bringing back memories of my first sexual experience – a whole lot of rubbing for very little satisfaction. My friend Chris was on the bike behind me and I think she was starting to get concerned that I may have had an std or something.
We finished the class and I then realised I’d FORGOTTEN BY DAMNED SWIMMERS. It’s too far to drive home for them and 2 other friends had also arrived for a swim. I pulled out my trusty credit card and bought a new pair of swimmers that were on sale (loved it) I don’t think I’m the only person that gets that little sphincter tightening feeling when you hand over your credit card. I know in my head there’s available money on it, but I get nervous I might have forgotten I’ve made a large transaction and my card will get declined. Which is dumb as it’s never happened, but that’s my money spending female guilt rising to the surface.
I changed into my swimmers, discovered they’d left the freaking security tag on them – much to the amusement of my a-hole friends and then went swimming.
One of these days my morning will run perfectly…