Fun with kids over the weekend …. she is not having it!

I know the right thing to say is to be all, geez I love motherhood, and gee willy this weekend stuff is groovy fun and then add a super happy Facebook status update about how happy I am!

Sorry, that shit is not flying on this end.

Kennith is gone for about a month – not gone as in dead, however that might get me sympathy and people offering to bake me lasagna and take my kids so I can have a lie down.  But no, worse, he has gone off to feel challenged.  Nothing says “challenge’ like losing 30 kilograms, and carrying about the same weight up a stupid mountain in Russia.

As you can imagine by my tone, I am really thrilled he has sought out this challenge.

Of course it makes the challenge of morning get-kids-to-school and get-kids-sorted-in-the-evening and try-and-remain-sane-on-the-weekends-whilst-your-kids-are-trying-to-drive-you-to-insanity the challenge I get to face, again and again.

But the problem with my challenge, is no one gives me a high-five and likes my status updates!

Such is the life of the little woman in the background, with three snotty kids clinging to an appendage and fighting with each other about {add anything varying from toothpaste to who looks out the car window}.

If I add the 30 days away to the long list of weekend hikes, running up table mountain after work, and cycling around the peninsula, whilst I am wondering if I can chew my tongue off and choke on it at home with three screaming children, then yes I am really excited for him!


Kennith left on Friday and this weekend was my first weekend “alone” – really alone if you consider that my lovely divine I-fall-at-your-feet-in-adoration Privelege was also off this weekend.

I think it did not help that I felt angry, because I was not feeling the joy of this entire experience, and had been suspicious that this was going to go very badly.  Very quickly.  For me.

I wasn’t worried about Kennith at all.  30 days of no kids, and pursing your challenge — what could be more fun??

My kids can smell fear. Probably because it leaves streaks in my panties.

They get wired, find a way to push every possibly button I have, work as a synchronised pack of relentless hyenas to drive me stark raving mad.  One long minute at a time.  It all gets going at about 06h00 and keeps up until about 20h00.

I watch each minute that passes.  Each minute!  I start wondering if I can put them all into bed and say goodnite at 2pm.  I have tried, they are too bright for that as soon as they figure out the difference in night and day.

I know I should tell you that I rose to the occasion.  Unfortunately I failed miserably.

I really tried to do the good mom thing.   Gd knows I tried!

I went for a nice walk – spent the entire time screaming at Isabelle to get out of the frkn road.

I made a roast chicken and all the trimmings as I thought it would be nice for us to sit around and have a family lunch (minus the dad of course) – that worked well until it didn’t.  The constant arguing and bickering and then Isabelle screaming because she was not going to eat any of my hard pressed cooking.

I hired a DVD for them – and then realised I could not sit and watch it with them without wanting to off myself.

I made them chocolate toast for breakfast – and then decided to go and sit somewhere else as I could not stand the arguing over everything.  How do kids find a way to argue over chocolate toast? Trust me, mine do.

I took them to a park today even though it was freezing – and then I lost Kennith’s umbrella, and of course they were arguing, and bickering and then I just got “gatvol” and figured I would rather be home and warm and they can argue there.

I took them to McDonalds for lunch – I also decided to sit at a separate table.  At McDonalds.  I really just needed a few minutes of not having to listen to the constant arguing and bickering.  This all worked until Isabelle fell, from a sitting position, only to smack her ear against the table – so then I sat with her whilst she bawled her head off.

I let them make and bake biscuits this afternoon – again an exercise is self-restraint, as I was sure I was going to hit one/all of them with the rolling pin!  I hate how other people can do this and it is fun, but when I do it, it really is like torture.

I have never glanced so much at the clock that stands in our kitchen area as I did in the last two days.  I waited for the minutes to tick by so we could get to 19h30 so that I could bark at them to go the *FUCK* to bed!

Today was not a good day.  This weekend was not a good weekend.

I am THANKFUL – TRULY – it is over, and that I survived, and more importantly that I managed not to commit what ever the term is where you off yourself and your children!

Dude/Dudette seriously if you are wanting a happy-go-lucky blog, I seriously suggest that you google mom+blog+really happy ….. because that shit is not happening over here.

Try again tomorrow, it might all be a bit better.  Or it might not.

Cheese and rice!

{Like Reluctant Mom, even just a little, please pop along and vote over at Kidz World Blogger Awards – Vote every day, as many times as you can click …. easy peasy}

Leave a comment


  1. Helen (1st-Timer)

     /  June 29, 2012

    oh no! And over school holidays! The mean bastard! I find the only way to survive is to approach the time as sole parent with military precision. Organized and diarised playdates, indoor play areas (oude Molen, Bizzy bodies, aquarium, spur etc) and kiddies concerts (goldilocks on at the Baxter now and noddy at artscape) make my life livable.

    Failing that my latest is to rent a jungle gym for them in the hope that I can lie on the patio couch.

    But don’t bake, that’s suicide stuff!

  2. Alexandra

     /  June 26, 2012

    The only way I get through a weekend when my DH is working overtime is to spend at least a morning, sometimes two, at one of those indoor play centres. I take my book and drink multiple cappuccinos, and yes they interrupt me at times but it has to be better than trying to entertain them myself.

    Really cannot imagine having to do it all myself for 30 days. If you survive this I think you’re either superwoman or up for sainthood.

  3. Monica

     /  June 26, 2012

    I am weeping in my lap. Not in sadness…in the fact that I’m not the only person who feels this way. Thank you for saying these things that I say out loud and get looked at like I’m some psycho mom. I will always remember your words and just try to survive this summer vacation at home with these three demon children.

  4. You’re so real, I love it. WE’RE ALL LIKE THIS REALLY. We are. Honest. Those other Mums are lying.

  5. Loretta

     /  June 25, 2012

    Whenever I am alone with Ethan for a weekend I am similalry filled with anxiety, especially when he was younger. So I get you and think you are brave for taking up the challenge of 3 at a time. I also hear you about the husband trekking off and leaving wifey alone with the kids. I was in Spain last week and I had to hear about “the sacrifice”. Of course he is off to Joburg this week and no talk of effin “sacrifice” on my side, just par for the course

  6. Stop taking them out! No really – leave them at home! Put food out for them and let them watch what they want. Shout from behind your locked door “have you eaten something” and when they yell back “yes we had a slab of chocolate” – smile and consider it a good day!

    Honestly I find taking mine out as a family is more of a mission than staying at home – if we go to friends its fine but just the 5 of us? Uh-uh it often ends badly!

    • Tania

       /  June 25, 2012

      Laura-kim you are a true gem. Hope Reluctant Mom takes your advise.

  7. Hilary

     /  June 25, 2012

    For me rainy weekends in CT = dread that I’ll be stuck inside (mostly) with my two and not have 5 min alone to wipe your arse in peace. I said to my husband yesterday, after feeling so befok and just gatvol of having them ‘mummy, mummy’ every 2 seconds that I hate having to go work on a Monday and facing those f*^king chirpy colleagues asking with a smile how my weekend was. I then am tempted to shout ‘it was S^*T, I’m grateful to be here where I can have some quiet and actually concentrate on what I’m drinking and eating’. Thank you for being honest. It makes me feel better knowing I’m not alone.


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