Sunday, 11 March 2012

Going, going... gone!

G&T - 27 months   M - 5 months

I've never been what you'd call efficient when it comes to leaving the house. In general, in my pre-mummy days, I'd spend the last few minutes before rushing off for the tube loudly tearing around looking for my magically-disappearing keys, getting more and more irate until I found them in my bag, or pocket, or hand. But now, I see those days for what they were. Blissful. These days, I hate leaving the house. Not being out, the actual leaving. Yes, there are the nappies, the wipes, the spare clothes, all the tools of a mum on the go. But that's not the problem. There are just so many people to get ready. And so many of them can be so uncooperative. If I know I need to leave by nine, I start starting to leave at 8.40 at the latest. In general, little M gets suited up and popped into her buggy first. If I'm lucky, she'll play there patiently until her sisters are ready. If I'm very lucky, she'll fall asleep. If I'm unlucky, well, the loud complaining just adds one more stress to the situation. 'I don't want my cardie, I want my jumper.' 'I want to wear my wellies.' 'I don't want to wear anything.' 'I want to stay here aaaalllllll day.' We never just leave. I'm looking forward to summer not for the nice weather, but simply because there will be fewer layers. Two toddlers, two cardies, two coats, two hats, four gloves, four boots, or shoes, or wellies... By the time I begin actually going anywhere, I'm already frazzled. When I think of my workdays now, it's with a sort of rosy glow. One coat, a bag, a book that I actually got to read, one little set of keys... Just one person who I had to kit out to face the elements. I really wish I'd appreciated it. When my twins were little, all my singleton mum friends would wonder how I coped, but twin mums know who the real heroines are. Triplet mums. In the past, I've occasionally wondered if having three of different ages is harder than three of the same, who at least have the same interests and can be entertained together. But now, when I imagine not being able to pop at least one in the buggy before the leaving marathon, I shudder. Two toddlers to dress up and get out is more than enough. And no, I can still never find my bloody keys.