Domestic Goddess

We were up nearly all of last night comforting poor Phoebe, who had a raging temperature and needed cuddles every 30 minutes. As a result of this the girls and I hunkered down today and didn't leave the house at all. Of course, Maisie thinks every day is wonderful as long as the Dairy Queen is close by, and Phoebe was delighted to stay in her jarmies, watching hours of Dora and being allowed to eat on the couch. I spent the majority of the day running around like the proverbial chook, doing many jobs badly and finishing none.

I started thinking (as I typically do on most weekdays at about 4pm) that I seem to spend a lot of time doing housework and looking after children, while rarely feeling a sense of achievement. If you asked me at the end of a "normal" (there's that word again!) day what I had done, unless we had been somewhere for a visit or a play, I would say "nothing". Ordinarily, that's where the thought would have ended. However today it occurred to me that like an episode of Seinfeld, in order to keep the main story flowing (that is, the family fed, clothed and happy) there is an extraordinary amount of behind-the-scenes work.

So what exactly did I do today? Put on three loads of washing, folded the dry washing off the line, changed 8 nappies, read 3 stories, played 'shops' with a listless 2 year old, sat on the couch cuddling the listless 2 year old, made several different meals to tempt the listless 2 year old, and threw most of them out. Made yummy vegetable puree for Maisie, scraped the vegetable puree off the highchair after she'd 'eaten' it, changed Mais into clothes that did not resemble orange mush. Breastfed Maisie three times for nourishment and twice to get her to go to sleep. Put clean sheets on Jack's bed after a little accident in the night. Washed the dishes after breakfast, lunch and dinner. Made dinner for Jack, Christian and myself, and threw Phoebs' dinner in the bin.

I know that I am typical of many stay-at-home mummies, and that the above only describes a very quiet day undisturbed by tantrums, car trips, emergencies and the like. I am also very aware that this blog is in danger of becoming deadly dull!!!! However, what I have realised after thinking about today is that it doesn't matter if I finish my jobs (as long as there's Weetbix in the pantry and clean undies to wear, of course!), because when my babies are all grown-up I won't remember having clean floors and folded washing. What I will remember is the cuddles on the couch and going into my bedroom to find Phoebe's baby doll tucked up on my pillow. I will remember Maisie lying squealing with laughter on the floor and going cross-eyed staring at a piece of bread. And I can only hope that my babies remember a Mummy who loved spending time with them and had time to play with them, just like mine did. Because that is the biggest achievement of all.