Mistress of the Mess

Yesterday I had an epiphany.I've been married for nearly four years, a mother for two and in all that time, something has been eluding me  . . .I've not really adjusted to the fact that this is my job now. I know, dense, huh?!

I'd always harboured dreams of staying at home with my beaming, well-behaved baby as I read him stories, baked cakes and generally worked to give him a secure start and prove all the attachment theories right.

However, the reality has been rather different. He's now a toddler and more likely to scream at the top of his voice for fun. Sitting reading stories only lasts for a short time as he prefers running, jumping and climbing, usually from heights that I deem unsafe and he deems 'flying like Buzz Lightyear'!

As for the cake baking, we started with rice crispy cakes. He likes chocolate. He likes rice crispies. He likes raisins. What could go wrong? I'm not quite sure but something in the mix when you put those three of his favourite things together meant the resulting cakes were 'not nice, mummy'.

There have been other days where the idyllic dream seemed closer to the reality. Days when we baked bread (using a breadmaker, I'm not a domestic goddess!) and he loved putting the ingredients into the little cup and pouring it into the breadmaker. Nights where we cuddled up with 'Time for Bed Tiger' and it did make him sleepy (as opposed to alert which is the usual outcome when we read together). Then there are those moments,every day where he smiles, throws his arms round my neck and pats my back in a 'big cuddle, mum'.

So being a mum is harder than I expected and much more difficult to manage that the staff I used to control in my manager's post. But I haven't even started to get to grips with being a 'wife' or the person who is in charge of the house. I mean really? Me? Arch feminist? The Anti-Stepford Wife? And you see that's the problem. Somewhere in my dreams, I forgot the reality check. If I want my child to have the same start in life that I did - secure, happy, active - then I'm fulfilling the same role as my mum and that means a few things that oddly enough didn't strike me until yesterday:

Not my house but very similar!

• I'm spending more time at home than my husband so I should 'spend more time at home' ie possibly clean it rather than escaping to a playgroup or park at the first opportunity
• I'm not earning at the moment. Although actually, that's not strictly true. We have our own business and I still get a Director's salary. However, since I'm rarely in the office and spend about ten hours a week on emails, correspondence, etc, my salary doesn't really match my input. And I mean that in a good way. I get paid the same as my husband but he's working five or six days a week sometimes from 8am, sometimes as late as 10pm.

Hmm, I'm starting to see why he might be a bit grumpy that our house looks like a tip!

It's a difficult balance. Deep in my core, I object to the women's role being the home maker . .. unless it's valued equally with the role of breadwinner. But I'm starting to think that this feminism has corrupted somewhere because really I've found it very difficult to value both roles equally and that means I've been doing every homemaker or housewife a disservice even though I thought I was viewing their contribution to society as worthwhile.

So, what am I going to do about it? I'm going to start earning my keep! I'm not sure if that means cleaning a bit more often or actually cleaning a bit less and taking some paid contracts. It definitely means approaching life in a more organised way . . .oops! You see this blog is my first commitment to this new life but it also shows my lack of commitment to it too because I didn't schedule this time into my day . . .oops!

What I have scheduled in is washing, writing a letter that I've been putting off for months, taking our little boy to a playgroup and going grocery shopping. So far, I've done one of the three - the washing but I have also changed the bedding, and sorted out a big bag of clothes for the charity shop or my sisters (if they see anything they like). I've emptied the bins and organised the books, newspapers and magazines at the side of the bed. I've also found an address my husband needed - whilst he ironed his own shirt because I'm better on the computer and he's better at ironing. So six tasks down and three to go. Wish me luck!

Shivering Me Timbers

A pirate and princess party - I was so excited when we got the invite. This is one of those perfect events that allows you to relive your childhood but with slightly better clothes and more appreciation of actually how good it is!

However trying to find a costume for my little boy threw up the usual problem. (The clue is in the word 'little'). He's two and not very tall although he has just had a growth spurt so well done him! A trawl round the usual shops revealed pirate costumes for age 5 and above.

The only costume that fitted him was a Buzz Lightyear one, and I had been looking for just such a costume for months as he loves Buzz, no loooooves him, absolutely loves him. To the extent that flying like Buzz Lightyear is his ultimate aim and he regularly throws himself from high heights in the hope of achieving it. Luckily, the myth about mums developing amazing reflexes to protect their offspring is correct. After his latest flying escapades, I've caught him by an ankle as his head hovered three inches from the floor, and on another occasion, I managed to catch and swing him by an arm to ensure he landed on a pile of cushions instead of the much flatter and less forgiving carpet.

We left the shops with a Buzz Lightyear costume that fit perfectly; a very happy boy; and nothing to wear to the pirate party.

The day before the party, my niece gave us a pirate costume her son had outgrown. It was perfect! When she mentioned she was dressing up too, I googled pirates, raided my wardrobe and decided I'd join in the fun. A stripey t-shirt, cropped jeans and a pair of flat pumps were topped off with a pirate hat and cutlass. We were ready to go.

At the party, the pirate entertainer illustrated a massive difference between the sexes. The boys ran round the room, playing in the soft play and fighting with inflatable swords. The girls sat quietly engrossed in the 'entertainment', standing when told, following all the instructions. The children were aged from two to five and yet were already showing gender differences.

I've always followed rules, fretted about instructions and wondered what people would think if I chose an unconventional path. My husband sees rules as a challenge, has no respect for authority and has an altogether more confident approach to life. Over the course of our relationship, I've blamed this on our different upbringings, our different religions, our family's different approaches to education. The pirate party made me think it might just be because I'm a girl and he's a boy. How depressing! I was desperate to see one of the girls misbehaving or turning up dressed as a pirate rather than a princess . . .but it wasn't to be.

Yet the mums who had dressed up were all pirates. Not a single adult princess in sight. Is that because when you reach a certain age, the princess fairystory loses its appeal, or floaty candyfloss pink layers aren't flattering? Or is it because by adulthood, most women have realised they want to be making the rules not following them? I know which I'd like to believe.

The day ended with a very tired but happy boy playing with the goodies from his party bag: a sticker book and a skull and crossbones stamp. By the time I'd made dinner, he had covered both palms with the stamp and had carefully stamped each and every finger too. So cute!


Unfortunately by bed-time it wasn't just his timbers that were shivering. He had a cough and a growing grumpiness too. Still, it was worth it for the fun  . . . and the lesson in gender differences!