The Workout

After having two kids I’ve really become twice the woman I was before, like literally, I used to weigh 48kg now i weigh a staggering 71kg, extreme I know.So I’ve decided that gymming and a healthier diet is the road to getting a bit of that fabulousness that I used to have back.

Whilst driving my older son asks me why I’m going to gym and I say to get fit. This question is followed by another; why you want to get fit mummy and I realise that if I didn’t simplify it for him the questions would be endless, so I tell him, ” mummy’s bum is big and going to gym will make it smaller.” This answer satisfies him and we continue driving.

I make my way to the gym, two munchkins in tow, of course. I stop at the mall, place my heavy gym bag over my shoulders and untie the car seats. I grab their gym daycare bags, hold the older sons hand and carry the baby.

As I walk through the mall I get a mixture of sympathetic and admirable looks but decide to hold on to the admirable looks for inspiration. We go one floor up and we have made it. By now i feel like I’ve got my cardio workout under the belt, despite the perspiration I venture on. I arrive at the daycare and settle the boys in front of dora the explorer.

As I leave the daycare the little one decides to cry for mummy so I turned back and tried consoling him. When that didn’t work I tried putting him to sleep.Fastforward an hour later and I’m still at the gyms daycare bouncing around trying to get my baby asleep. He relaxes and I give him to the carer and like a thief in the night, run for the treadmills.I was running for about 5 minutes when I heard the dreadful announcement, “Mrs Rohan could you please report to reception.”I drag my feet to the daycare where I find an exhausted and flustered carer. She says that she really tried and that he was making all the other kids cry.I claimed defeat and walked back to my car.

My bigger son then turns to look at me and asks, “mummy is your bum smaller now,” I had to laugh.

Standard

Another day, another adventure. Today I found out that my kids are actually hyperactive!

Woohoo it’s a medical condition that can be treated!  The problem is that this condition is treated by removing all sugary treats, the kind I so desperately relied on to keep my kids happy.

Try selling a raisin to your kids when they’re used to chappies and lollipops, it just ain’t happening.This morning my son looked at me in earnest and said, “mummy I’m hungry for bubblegum” the urgency that this request was said with was just priceless.

So here’s to a sugar less ten days. I guess this means I actually have to parent instead of bribing my boys with sweets now.

Standard

Ok so I’m new to this. Three years ago I became a mom and a year and a half later I became a mom again so now I’m blessed with two “angel” boys.

Don’t get me wrong I love my boys but I’m honest. These two drive me NUTS! The irony is I struggled having kids for 6 years. In that 6 years I envisioned me shopping with my boys who would sit perfectly still in their pram while I strolled around wearing stiletto heals and a fabulous outfit.

What actually happened is fairly decent tracksuits, takkies (anyone who knows me knows in the past I would not have been caught dead in takkies, but hey, I had to adapt), I just about manage to splash some foundation on my face and voilà, time to go shopping.

After the half hour we take to just get in my mummy van I battle to strap the boys in their car seats. Both of them have toys in their hands and of course they fight for the others’ toy. Our launch onto the road is accompanied by the beautiful wailings of two “cute” boys. I automatically turn the music volume up so that my sanity will survive the trip to the shops.

Once there I unleash my boys onto civilisation. The little one flirts with everyone fooling shoppers into thinking he is sweet. He then flashes them a smile and asks, ‘peetie pease’ and he almost always manages to get a sweety. Once that happens the big one starts crying for a sweet of his own. I’m forced into purchasing some more sugar but all in the name of peace.

I think the point I’m trying to make is, being a mother ain’t child’s play. It is the most mentally and physically draining job. But no  need to fret according to the wise ones this will get better in 10 to 20.

Standard