The Muck and the Glory
I think this phrase may have been used to refer to war in the past, in this case it refers to the every day parenting battle instead.
Whilst wandering to school and nursery with the kids I’ve had the phrase ‘What must people think of me?’ going round and round in my head. I think my last post possibly went beyond the boundaries of taste and for that I want to sort of apologise to any of my readers who have physically recoiled from their PC’s. Sorry. Anyway, it’s not me keeping the damn things in a tub, it’s Horace! Blame him!
The thing is, I’m not very squeamish, and just look on this as part and parcel of being a parent, it just comes with the territory. You get the lovely moments and you get the truly awful ones too. Personally I will always remember when my 2 year old Darlek stood on the sofa, reached up and threw her arms around my neck, squeezed me really hard and said ‘You love me mummy!’ for the very first time – even the thought of that memory can bring me to tears. You see, that was a nice bit. And now we have nits, which is horrid, but it’s just what happens. The way I look at it, it’s another memory to add to the collection, it’s just not as nice as the former one.
That’s the muck and the glory of it all – the slog of sleepless nights, the poo on the walls (I’m so glad it’s not just me that has had to deal with that!), the first smile, stumbling first steps, handmade Mother’s Day cards that fall in bits, snot trails on my shoulder all the time, crumbs everywhere, spilt ribena on pastel carpets, kisses and cuddles, bed time stories, Christmas mornings and of course the aforementioned nits. They all makes up the days and the memories. I’m not saying I like dealing with the horrid aspects of parenting, but they make life interesting. Not always in a pleasant way, but I’d be bored without the ups and downs of it all.
So anyway. Apologies if I’ve offended anyone and I will resume approximately normal blog entries from now on. I wouldn’t have posted pics of the tub if it hadn’t have been for Sherrianne (Yes, I’m looking at you!) goading me into it. So if you were inadvertantly made itchier by the pics I posted, blame her as well as Horace.