So some of you might know that we experienced real proper snow on Tuesday, last week. Ok, I’m sure the whole world knows but I was so beside myself that it actually snowed in Gauteng! Real snow, not lit bits of frost on your car or grass but real ass snow. I thought it was freakin Christmas. Well, it was close. It definitely felt like a time to be jolly.
When I got home, the first thing Dudie told me was “Mama, I saw the snow” with th biggest smile ever. Dude & I were fortunate to have experienced snow before as we’ve travelled to Switzerland. We’re now more set on taking Dudie to Switzerland. I was as excited as my Dudie when he realises that breakfast is chocolate and flings! Oh and milktart! I kid you not, that’s what we had for breakfast on Saturday. Not sure why though, but it was all good. On and we washed it down with some cream soda. I can see some parents rolling their eyes but really have you never ever given your child junk non-nutritional food as a meal? Never ever?
Why are we as “mothers” so hell bent on feeding our kids nutritional meals when the “dads” just wing it? Why are we as mothers so hell bent on routines when dads just wing it? Why are we as mothers so set on discipline when dads just wing it? And why are we as mothers always wanting to protect/cushion or children when dads let them take a chance? This is my opinion and shoot me for generalising but in my world “mothers” just do these things. Looking in, it seems that the dads have the easy way out. Let me make an example, Dudie will ask for his dad but I will cover and make excuses for Dude as I know that he might be busy. But if Dudie requests my presence, Dude will call me immediately without batting an eyelash. I’ve asked myself a million times, and I guess I’m just a sucker for punishment but why do I feel that I have to do everything? If I don’t put in lunch no one gets lunch or if we do it’s thrown together, literally. I like structure. I don’t like my food touching. I have explained that I would really like to receive a packed lunch, the way I do it. With mini treats and surprises but I’ve given up on that pipe dream. I guess Woolworths is the only one giving me a pretty packed lunch…
Back to my point, as mothers we are very hard on ourselves. Why? I guess because I want to give Dudie the best of what I have to offer. To be a better parent than my mother was. To make sure that I raise a good young man. My best is all I’ve got. But I try. And it seems that each day I push myself a little harder. A little further.
Somedays, I just need a time out. I often sit and wonder what I did for the day, then I recall, oh, you cooked/cleaned/did the washing,/made the beds/laughed at joke/ lent an ear when there were important things to discuss/crammed some studying/picked up legos for the millionth time/the list can go on and on…. Somedays it just feels meaningless. That my life has no real purpose. That I’m not making a difference. That I’m just here……………
I too am important. And I do have a purpose. I just need to figure out what that actually is. Maybe it’s being a mother/wife/friend/confidant? Who knows? I know that Dudie seems to think that I mean the world to him. And for now that’s all that matters.
