Yummy Mummies Take A Hike!

I blame the camping. Before camping I was functional. BC I was coping with life. BC I was zen mother and loving it. (Okay, maybe not the zen bit.)

And now? Now it ain't pretty. Yummy Mummy? Hardly. Scrummy Mummy? Not at my place. Instead we have a Real Mummy scale, modelled on the richter scale with slightly less catastrophic results. And I can tell you right now that "scrummy" and "yummy" don't feature (except in the Mummy's-gorging-herself-on-food-again sense).

Here it is. The Real Mummy scale:

1  Dummy Mummy - Nappy brain has taken over. Thinking hurts. Serious thinking brings on anxiety attacks. Even a trip to the supermarket represents a threat to your (barely-firing) neurons.
2  Glummy Mummy - It's too late to shove the kid back in, demand a refund, or get an exchange card. This is your lot. Sleepless nights, sick on your shoulder, sex deprivation (worse, you're happy with that) and a life that doesn't feel like your own. Forever. You've got every damn right to feel sad. Wallow in it, Girlfriend.
3  Crummy Mummy - You've decided you suck as a mum. You're grumpy, you're tired, you still haven't worked out what your baby wants, the washing's been on the line since last Friday, and you haven't vacuumed in a month. It's baked beans for tea again, and don't you think you should get back to work and bring in some money?
4  Numb-y Mummy - It's been so long since you had a full night's sleep you've forgotten what it feels like. In fact, feeling is an optional extra that just doesn't fit into your life right now. You're so tired you can't even rouse the energy to cry.
5  Tummy Mummy - No matter how hard you try for the Yummy Mummy I'm- already-back-in-skinny-jeans image, you've got a spare tyre - no, a flat spare tyre - hanging off your waist. Liposuction sounds good, only it costs way too much and it won't shrink your saggy baggy skin. This isn't what you signed up for, this doesn't feel like your body, and you wish it would all just go away.
6  Rummy Mummy - Okay, so it ain't good for the quality of your breastmilk, but it sure helps calm the (frayed) nerves. It also helps you forget about your tummy (see 5 above) for a short time.
7  Hummy Mummy - It's official: things are really bad. Random tuneless humming indicates a) your brain-cells have completely broken down (what song are you humming, anyway?) and b) your sanity is in serious doubt. Maybe it's time to take a wee break. A week or two on a deserted beach with a good book, plenty of your favourite drink, and no hint of kids should do it.

Sound familiar?

Hints For Campers With Kids

1   DON'T be casual about departure time. Packing ALWAYS expands to take up all available time + twenty percent.
2   DON'T assume thick black clouds on horizon won't come your way. They will. Thick black clouds = rain. Rain = misery for five-year-old over-excited campers.
3   DON'T assume swiftly-moving thick black clouds will bypass campsite. They won't. They'll just arrive fast. Swiftly-moving thick black clouds = wind + rain. Wind + rain = bad news if erecting tent and minding over-excited five-year-old and fretful baby simultaneously.
4   DON'T take mobile phone with only one blip of battery left. It won't last the day, let alone the trip.
5   DON'T believe you'll survive without your mobile phone. You won't. You're addicted and needy, just like all those pesky Generation whatever-they-are's.
6   DON'T use five-year-old son's new Transformer mug as handy vessel to transport hot water in. So what if it's handy? It's a TRANSFORMER mug = magnet to son.
7   DON'T forget location of nearest cold water supply. IF son burns himself you need readily available cold water. Especially if it's your fault (see 6 above).
8   DON'T assume you'll sleep longer than 40 minutes in one stretch during night; not if you have six-month-old baby with you, anyway.
9   DON'T believe (even for a moment) that baby needs to adjust to your life. Forget  articles and expert opinions. Baby doesn't need, or want, to go camping. Baby doesn't need, or want, to sleep in portacot or tent, to play on hard ground, to amuse herself, to enjoy outdoors or experience weather extremes. Baby doesn't enjoy sand or grass. Baby doesn't enjoy camping. Get it?
10  DON'T expect five-year-old son to eat anything cooked over camping stove. Five-year-old son doesn't like change. He doesn't like charred, or even mildly-blackened, potatoes or sausages. He doesn't like anything that looks different. He doesn't want to expand his food repertoire. He doesn't intend to be less fussy just because he's camping. Son would rather starve.
11  DON'T decide starvation is fitting punishment for son. Son disagrees. And soon, when son's blood-sugar levels get low enough, you will observe carnage and also disagree.
12  DON'T conclude camping is bad idea. Kids will look back on these days with fondness. You will recall sleep deprivation and hard work. Kids will recall endless summer days of trampolining, cycling and playing with friends, long evenings spent playing instead of sleeping, long nights feeling cosy in tent as wind whipped through trees outside.

Oh, the joys of camping!

Maggie's Resolutions For 2010

Okay, I know I've said it before, but this year I really need to tone up and trim down. Which means a) exercise and b) self-restraint. Oh God. Suddenly 2010's looking like one long, glaucomic tunnel of doom. I mean, hello. Exercise? When do I ever have time for that? And self-restraint? Can I even say it?

Well, 2010's going to be the year when I learn, right? I can get up at six a.m. and lurch through a workout. Anything will do. Jogging, swimming, circuit training - whatever. Just sign me up. And if my kids have woken me multiple times during the night with a typical repertoire of nightmares/questions-that-just-couldn't-wait/ missing-you's/hunger, I can go out at eight p.m. instead for said workout. And if I'm so dog-tired I can't manage that, either, I will stagger to bed and imagine said workout. Why? Well, apparently thinking is halfway to doing, so although it'll take longer for my body to see the benefits, it's a great fallback option.

Yeah, good plan, Maggie.

Besides, I'll be sure to make up the lost workout later in the week (probably) (maybe) (okay, that's a big fat lie and we both know it).

As for the self-restraint bit, well… that's more of a problem. Short of sewing my lips together I can't think of an easy solution. Me and food go together like fish and chips, wine and cheese, cars and big bills.

Ooh! Cunning plan! I'll use the old reverse psychology trick. Yeah. Perfect! So… my resolutions for 2010 will be to gain weight and get flabby. That should do it. I've never yet achieved a New Year's resolution.

Watch out, body beautiful, here I come!

Brace Yourself: It's The C-Word...

Not cancer: Christmas. A word that conjures up such a range of emotions.

Emotion 1.  Surprise. Is it that time already?

Emotion 2.  Annoyance. The baubles and fake snow are cluttering shop windows, the piped music in lifts/malls/phone calls is Santa-themed, and the street decorations have appeared overnight. Do they really think we need reminding?

Emotion 3.  Panic. We're in serious countdown, now. Have I organised presents? Bought Christmas Day's food-orgy fodder? Posted cards? Worked out logistics with in- and out-laws? Dusted off the decorations? Herded my kids into writing letters to Santa?

Emotion 4.  Boredom. Blah blah. Do we really need to make all this effort again, and so soon?

Emotion 5.  Anticipation. Christmas is a very special time of year if you've got kids to share it with. Mine can't wait! It's beginning to rub off on me, too. :

Emotion 6.  Happiness. Am I not the most fortunate woman in the world? I have a great partner, awesome kids, and extended family who really enjoy together-time. We may not be the richest guys on the street, but we're warm, we've got food in our bellies, and we're surrounded by people who love us.

Yep, it's that time of year again. And I'm counting my many blessings. I'm a very lucky girl.