Posts Tagged ‘mother’
Some mornings, it’s like Groundhog Day in our house: Me, standing naked in front of the wardrobe, showered, makeup on, wardrobe doors open to reveal 780 outfits bursting out, whining to DH: “I’ve got nothing to wear.”
DH, of course, has a variety of replies that range from “Darling, you look good in everything” to “Oh for god’s sake, stop buying so much crap”, depending on his mood.
Sometimes he even takes a photo of me standing there naked to make me hurry up – trust me, there’s nothing like seeing your backside in the full light of day to make you get dressed quickly (I hope he never loses his phone!).
But what I’d like to share with you on this topic is this: At the ripe old age of 41, I’ve suddenly realised why I never have anything to wear, despite having two full closets.
It’s because I still buy clothes – beautiful clothes – for a lifestyle that I no longer lead.
My wardrobe is chock-a-block full of divine office clothes and glamorous evening-out clothes. I collect dresses, for example, like other people collect speeding tickets. I love them. I love the cuts, the fabrics, the colours. I buy them in colour blocks and in stripes; I buy shifts, gowns and sheaths; in linens, silks and shimmering satins.
And I buy high heels to go with them. Vertiginously high, strappy sandals by Vince Camuto, from Tod’s, and from Russell & Bromley. They’re beautiful shoes, delicately scented of leather. I know, because I get them out every now and then and I stroke them.
But do I wear them? The high heels and the dresses?
Hell no. I don’t wear them because my life – which consists largely of walking through deep sand in 45˚C to pick up two or three children, then slow-walking back through the sand lugging a couple of backpacks while holding on to a few sticky children – is not compatible with silk shift dresses and Vince Camuto heels.
What I need is a wardrobe of shorts, of vests and of flip-flops. But where’s the fun in buying those? That, friendos, I now understand, is why I have nothing to wear.
Some days, I wish I could count the number of times my children said, “Mama?” or “Mummy?” in that urgently questioning tone of voice. It doesn’t even matter if you say immediately, “Yes darling?” with a smile because there’s always a second “Mama?” right behind the first one.
Sometimes I feel like telling them they’ve got 50 “Mummy?”s a day and after that I don’t hear them.
Anyway, aside from the “Mummy?”s, here are the other things I heard a lot today. And hear every day for that matter:
“I HATE this. I never want to eat it again!”
“And I’m really not eating the red bits.”
“Mummy, I’ve really had enough.”
“I really don’t feel like fruit.”
“Mummy, I need a poo!”
“WHY do I have to do spellings? Can’t I do them tomorrow?”
And my favourite:
“Mummy? Huggee?” (that’s DS pulling my heartstrings).
And here are the things I find myself repeating like a robot:
“Sssh-sssh. What happened? Which bit hurts? Can you move it like this?”
“Why didn’t you eat your lunch?”
“I’ll have to throw it away. It’s such a waste.”
“Come on, let’s do your spellings.”
“Come ON! Teeth! Now!”
“NOW! Move it!”
“Listen to me!”
“STOP it! Leave your brother (sister) alone!”
And, on a positive note:
“I love you too. You’re my favourite (daughter / son) in the whole, wide world.”
Oh the joys. Feel free to add your own.