My friend posted the funniest Instagram post tonight. It was #keepingitreal and #realmumstyle. I laughed for about fifteen minutes afterwards because she showed us how social media often or nearly always, masks REAL LIFE.
This got me thinking.
I accepted a challenge late in 2017 to write every day for an entire month with specific topics each day. Clearly, that didn’t happen and I REALLY wanted to do it. I realised I was a little scared to do it in case people got sick of seeing my posts.
Then, I read this book “How To Be Happy” and I’ve literally thought “Fuck It”. If you don’t want to read my posts, DON’T. This is who I am. I wear my heart on my sleeve. I write and talk about those subjects that people don’t really like to and I’m not going to stop.
So, this brings me to this week. I’m going to write about how my real life looked in the past 24 hours. Sometimes, when we are having a shit day and we read about someone else’s shit day it can make us smile, make us happy again, as we are on this earth to feel happy every day.
By the way, in real life, I swear … sometimes a lot. I blame my Mum. If you know her you’ll laugh at that comment.
Last night was a tough night at our house.
The littlest one burst into tears at bedtime when she told me that kids at school keep asking if her and Indiana are twins because they look so much alike. For any other kid, this probably wouldn’t bother them. But she is a twin. I asked her how she felt when the kids asked her this and she said “Mummy, it just makes me so sad for Charlize because she is my twin and no one will ever know her”. With tears slipping down her face I picked her up out of her bed and walked her to my bedroom and told her she could snuggle with me all night. Within a few minutes she was fast asleep.
I let our puppy inside like we do every night. She waits on the mat for me to tell her she can go into our big boy’s room, and then she races down the hallway and curls up on his bed after she’s slobbered all over his face. Last night I was exhausted. I would normally put the dog out at 10.30pm before I go to bed but instead I fell asleep quite early.
2.30am – I’m woken to the sounds of our front door opening and realises O is putting the dog outside. He tells me he thinks she’s limping. I tell him she will be fine and to go back to sleep.
3.00am – I’m woken to the sounds of a dog being tortured. I race outside to find the dog curled up in her crate panting. I get her out and notice she’s in a lot of pain. I bring her inside and find she can’t stand on her front leg. Shit.
I wrap her in a blanket and give her some water and let her sleep at the end of my bed so I can keep an eye on her. I realise I’m terrified she might die.
Somehow we all sleep in till 8am. The vet calls me as I sent him a text at 3am. Oops. He tells me to bring her in now as he has consults from 8.30am. No one is dressed. Two kids are still asleep.
We manage to get dressed for school and out the door in 9 minutes. Why can’t they do this every morning. I remember I’m teaching O’s class how to make bread. My hair isn’t done, my jeans have red dirt stains on them but at least my clothes are clean.
We drop the dog off at 8.25am. Everyone looks exhausted and no one has had breakfast. We go to our local café and order breakfast. Whilst we are waiting for breakfast I remember I didn’t pack anyone lunch for school. Shit.
I log on to the canteen website and let them have all the nutritious items they want. I start ordering hash browns, chicken nuggets, sausage rolls. Oh god, they don’t have recess. So we order grain waves. Fuck it, it’s Friday it won’t kill them. I’ll cook us a stir fry for dinner with lots of vegetables to combat the shit I’ve just ordered them.
My husband calls me repeatedly to update me about the dramas at Sydney airport which mean his flight home is very delayed. I think he might be scared that I’ll completely lose my mind if he’s not home soon. He’s probably right.
I manage to get the kids to school on time. I unpack my luggage to take into O’s classroom to make bread. Why on earth did I think I had time for this. I have 70 questions for my maths topic I haven’t touched and an assessment due on Sunday which is probably another 70 questions on things I don’t know the answers to.
Surprisingly, the bread making goes so very well. The kids were delightful and the bread rolls turn out fabulous. I thoroughly enjoyed spending time with his class and was glad he asked me to do it.
I pack up my luggage and walk from one end of the school to the next, with my very heavy bags, to find the gates are locked and I have to walk back to the entry and walk halfway around Alstonville to get to my car with my Thermomix on my shoulder.
I manage to get all my stuff in the car and drive to the coffee shop. I can’t get a park anywhere near the coffee shop. I need that latte like my life depended on it. I have my lifeline in my hand and start walking back to the car when the sky opens up and it literally pours buckets of water on top of me. I look up and laugh and take a nice big slurp of my coffee as I walk leisurely through the pouring rain. I get to my car and the bloody rain stops.
The sun is shining when I get home to the chaotic mess we left in haste this morning. I give myself 20 mins and race around picking up clothes, making beds and washing up the dishes. I venture into the laundry and smile when I realise I’m completely up to date with all our washing and it’s even folded in neat piles for everyone to collect.
I sit down in front of my laptop with my cup of tea and start the 70 torturous questions for today’s uni activity. My husband finally walks in the door from Sydney delighted to be home.
I get a call from the vet who tells me the dog is not going to die. She didn’t get bitten by a snake and she didn’t break her leg. She got an abscess from a grass seed that penetrated her skin. She currently looks like a shaggy teddy bear so it’s not surprising. He suggests we get her clipped regularly to avoid this happening again. I make an appointment to get her clipped.
I drive back to the school to pick up my darlings. The middle one trudges towards me and growls rather than talks. The big one seems happy as he’s still eating bread. The little one approaches with her hair pulled out and crazy and all the while she continues to talk to me about her day whilst scratching her head. I have a look at where she is scratching.
Standing next to me is her teacher telling me how adorable she is and my dear friend. I bend my head down to look closer at the scratch marks and I snap my head up and look at both my friend and her teacher. In my head I said “FUCK” but in the school yard I said “Oh great, why not have nits. That just completes our week”. They both looked at me and laughed.
We arrived home and I made everyone strip all their clothes off whilst I lathered their heads in that head lice stuff that burns the shit out of your eyes. I stripped beds and watched as my perfect laundry turned into a tsunami of washing.
My husband walked in and looked at me and said “I thought I’d get us chicken and chips for dinner so you don’t have to cook”.
Who was I kidding, I was never making stir fry tonight!!