Queen of Contradictions

I am a bag of contradictions, this I know. Instead of rendering me infuriating, I prefer to think of myself as challenging. Or interesting. A mosaic of personality traits (as opposed to simply having multiple personalities...)

I am a girly girl. Give me pink, frilly, feathered, fluffy, swirly, flouncy, even. And yet I am perfectly happy leaving the house every morning in jeans, boots and a fleece, with hair scraped into a pony and a bare face (my Mummy uniform, if you like.)

I love having manicured nails, styled hair and skin that has been nurtured by a night-and-day routine of toning, cleansing and moisturising. But without fail, there's always something else that takes priority over my personal grooming. I just don't find the time. Anything beyond 'clean' goes out the window...

If I had my 'druthers, I'd dress up in a slinky top, nice pants and clicky clacky high heels, and go out somewhere fabulous every few weeks. You know, drinkies with the girls, movies with my boy. But somehow the thought of my jarmies and Masterchef and my boy on the couch is always just too appealing!

I would eat all day if I could. But then I would berate myself for getting plump.

I am terribly house-proud. Which does not explain the baskets of unfolded washing and dishes in the sink that wait while I walk the dogs...

I love being a teacher. But the thought of going back to the classroom and leaving my Ballerina and my Mouse is too much to bear.

I could watch my kids, getting bigger and more cunning, every day and not get sick of it. I am so delighted that they are growing and learning, and there are so many things we can do as a family now that the "little baby" years are gone. However, my heart breaks with the knowledge that the Mouse is my last bubby.

I am thrilled to collect the outgrown baby clothes, the bunny rugs and muslins, the change table, the Jolly Jumper, the floor mats, the trolleys for learning to walk, and all the other baby paraphernalia for my little niece or nephew who we will meet in November. But every piece I put away must be sniffed, cradled and gazed at with eyes misted over with memories first, lest I lose a tiny piece of my children's babyhood.

I watched Jack last night at his very first parent-teacher interview, and I nearly burst with pride. He was so excited to show us his teacher, his classroom and his work. I could not have been prouder of our big boy. And yet...part of me wanted to rewind the clock so I could cradle my big-headed, baldy baby boy once more. (Which would then have meant we would be once again dealing with horrendous reflux...perhaps Jack being a big boy is not such a bad thing!)

So I suppose I am not only a sack full of contradictions, but I'm a messy, emotional one at that. Awesome. And now there's a sink of dishes waiting for my attention. I know I'll feel better once they're clean...and yet, I really can't be bothered...