Not the best years (hopefully)…


I’m lying in bed. It’s late. I can’t sleep. It’s got me thinking…

I have finally just got kid number one to sleep after having to endure a two hour session of making skipping ropes out of pipe cleaners. A man invented pipe cleaners I’m guessing. Kid number two is asleep on the floor in her swimsuit and I’m not moving her. Kid number three is officially my favourite as she is in bed.

Today my mum rang me. She listened to the usual chaos and blood curling screaming and fighting over a spoon.

I may have screamed at a kid and the spoon may be living in the driveway right now. My mum decided to take this opportunity to inform me that I should enjoy this time. THESE ARE THE BEST YEARS OF MY LIFE. Apparently.

So I’m lying here in bed really really hoping that this is not true. I can’t sleep as I am truly worried after today..

This morning I spent three hours vacuuming our whole house after kid number one found the biggest tub of talcum powder man ever made. We had our very own white party. The tears I wept while on my hands and knees cleaning it up made it extra fun. Water really helps soak in and cement that powder. It was even more fun mopping the floors four times as that white look just hangs around. Try vacuuming talc. Go on…
To top it all my vacuum thought it would be funny to just puff it all back out of its air vents. We love white clouds. So very funny. At least the kids laughed.


Once I contained the talc situation (and ate a block of dairy milk to recover) I noticed that it was very quiet. Too quite. After investigations I had to remove one chicken from the bedroom that kid number one wants to keep in his toy bin. Chickens shit everywhere. Did you know that? After I practically scrubbed his room until my fingers bled I searched the house for a paper bag to breathe in. Of course none left. I noted to myself that I must add paper bags and wine to the shopping list.

Toilet training has never been so much fun. One kid thinks she’s a dog and will only poo under the trampoline. The same spot the kids play under all day. This results in four showers too many for the kids. I honestly wish I was making this scene up. But sadly its reoccurring. I’m hoping a keyboard warrior who is a world expert in toilet training can give me some advice? Anyone? Feel free to visit me..


Growing up my mum taught me I can do anything that I want to do, and I pretty much did.
I got straight As at school. Well apart from French and Maths but who needs those anyway. I went to college and am the proud owner of a distinction in my chosen subject. I’ve worked for Forbes 500 companies and been the boss far too many times. I travelled the world and partied like it was 1999. I mean, I even owed a Gucci bag that did not come from the markets. #iwassuccessful people!

Fast forward ten years and I now seem to struggle with the basics in life. I read all about powerful women that have it all. These women work. They are great mums. They have great eyebrows and shoes not from three years ago. They look like they are enjoying it all and have houses free from talc explosions and chicken shit. Meanwhile I’m sitting here wondering should I have a shower or make the packed lunches or try to sleep before someone wakes up for a night party. My eyebrows last got waxed in September. Lucky for me big bushy and thick is fashionable.

Please have a think about this…
We go to school and we are inspired. We are empowered to do what ever we want. We live in Australia. We are so lucky as women to have the world at our feet.

No one told me I would spend my days in these scenes. No one told me it would be this hard. No one told me how lonely it can be. No one talks about the hard shit. Where is the baby book that tells you how to balance it all? The Internet is plastered in prefect mother scenes. That $200 I paid for the guide to having a baby class was not branching out with information past birth. I WANT A REFUND. Why did you not tell me mum? WHY? Was I just a perfect child perhaps?


You may read this and call me ungrateful or a bad mother. I’m eternally grateful I know what I have. I’m not a bad mother honestly – I do heaps of craft and stuff I secretly detest. I let them wear ballet shoes with swimsuits to bed. I’m always here for them and only pick one favourite kid a day. The chickens have yet to make an appearance as Sunday dinner.

What I’m really hoping for is that these are NOT the best years of my life. I have plenty of living left to do that’s not wiping butts or chicken poo from the bedroom. For Mother’s Day I’m asking for a cleaner. It won’t make me a better wife or mother but it might make me more sane.

Have you found a manual that will make me a better all rounder SAHM? Perhaps you are exceptional? Please share!

4 thoughts on “Not the best years (hopefully)…

  1. Kate

    Waah we are all singing the same song – some days are worse than others! I cope by escaping my messy house (and I have a cat instead of chickens – not as practical but generally less poo). The littlest one is now at school.. So for bursts of the week I am doing my own stuff – everything has it’s pros and cons. Easy to feel romantic about “the good old days” when they are over!! Good luck x

  2. Karen

    You are not a bad or ungrateful mother – you’re bloody honest!! And I’m sorry but I don’t have the magic formula!! It’s bloody hard (and I only have one kid and I work outside the home too). It. never. bloody. ends. I think one thing I have started to do though is just accept the way I am feeling about it – yeah it sucks, but it is what it is and (apparently!) it won’t be this way for ever. These are not the best days of your life – these are the days of your life with some best bits thrown in occasionally!

  3. Helen Edwards

    love love love! I relate totally. Have had the talcum powder event too. And we currently have a free ranging budgie because the kids (and well me) cry if she looks sad in her cage and she shits the whole time she is out…and there is better and better – I am 48 this year, one kid now 21 and moved out, the other 16 and the youngest is 6 and diagnosed yesterday with mild – moderate Autism…..and I run 2 blogs and a charity I founded and am half way through a postponed PhD and finishing my design studies and running a shop and I never sleep and life is crazy and full and rich and sad and colourful. We are women hear us roar :0 xx


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