The Stork Has Visited One of Our Bad Mommies...[Again]

If you've all been wondering where MamaMeeA is... well, she's been hatching herself a new baby boy.

Due in October. She's taken a bit of a break from blogging to deal with all the overwhelmingness of it all, and hopes to return soon.

In the mean time I thought everyone would like to know, so they can wish her well!

Before I was a Mommy I fit into size 0 clothes....

and could fly anywhere I wanted to be, propelled only by the power of my mind, and I had a million rainbow ponies who would do whatever I asked....

Okay, so the clothes were size 6 (South African) and the flying and ponies might have been Vodka-induced hallucinations, but still. I was seriously cool before I was a Mommy...

Before I was a Mommy..... I spent several weeks in complete denial before finally giving in and taking the pregnancy test that turned my whole world on its head.

Before I was a Mommy..... I never thought I would ever want to have kids.

Before I was a Mommy..... I used to laugh at how my mother used to smile that knowing smile and say things like, "Just you wait 'til you have kids of your own....".

Before I was a Mommy..... I never used to cry in the sad parts of movies.

Before I was a Mommy..... I could go for days without any vaguely decent amount of sleep and would never say no to a party.

Before I was a Mommy..... I had no clue how desperately sad and lonely I'd been for the longest time.

Before I was a Mommy..... Alcohol was more important than food.

Before I was a Mommy..... I didn't know what menstrual cramps felt like. Or heartburn. Or constipation. Or anything above 45kg body weight.

Before I was a Mommy..... Macdonald's was only to be tolerated when in a state of utter inebriation.

And now I'm a Mommy. And pretty much nothing is as it used to be. And I appreciate my own mom so, so much more.

Territorial Issues

My daughter had a narrow brush with death yesterday.*

I've never been awfully big on sharing, and despite the general consensus that the role of mother carries with it an implicit compulsion to share surrender everything one owns, I am still not big on sharing.

I mean, I can deal with having to dole out half my share of the slab of chocolate after the rest of the clan have wolfed theirs down like starved beasts. I can live with having the kids empty half of my shampoo into the bath to make bubbles. I'm even starting to get over the indignity of having my one weekly shit interrupted as one of the small people barges in, incapable of waiting a single moment longer to enlighten me on the intricate comings and goings of monsters,vampires bamfires and imaginary friends.

But when I've taken the time to agonise over a little self-indulgent purchase on what will most likely be the only trip to London that my company ever sends me on; When I've fastidiously battled the wills of my seven other personalities and left that expensive perfume bottle sealed in its box, saving it either for a really special occasion or for my mother's upcoming birthday, at which time I'll be too broke to be able to buy her a decent present; When I'm having a Saturday morning lie-in for the first time in so long, I can't believe I once lived a life in which this was common practice; Then, upon waking up to find my daughter wafting breezily through the living room, that familiar and seductive scent wafting off her in overwhelming waves; Upon tearing through my underwear drawer in search of that precious bottle and finding it gone; then I am so very fucking not okay with sharing less inclined to be persuaded to refrain from bludgeoning the brat to death with a blunt object remain calm and reasonable.

* She walked away from the incident having suffered no physical harm, but having gained a new-found respect for Mommy's Things.

MamaMeeA and all the chaos that follows

Wow. I think my year has just been made - someone actually asking me to contribute to their blog! Thank you. No, seriously....

I'm guessing the best place to start would be with an introduction. In order to expedite the process (and at the risk of getting flamed for seriously shameless plugging), I recommend reading this post to begin with. It's mostly still applicable, I think, at least in my own mind. Except that my life has become far, far more interesting since then - a fact I can confidently attribute to the fact that we have just recently returned to South Africa after three years in the United Arab Emirates, and now live less than a 10-minute drive from my in-laws...

I am the best mother I know how to be, which, to some, is not saying much. To my kids, however, it seems more than adequate thusfar, and I have no doubt that if you were to ask either of them whether they are loved enough, they would answer in the affirmative.

And with that little disclaimer out of the way, excuse me while I join the party and mingle... Anyone know where to find the vodka?