Last week, when Dave was kissing the boys goodbye before heading off to work, Eli piped up and said, "Why can't YOU stay home with us Daddy, and Mummy go to work?" Dave's response, though well-meant, wasn't quite the one I was hoping for... "Because Mummy doesn't have a job", he said.

Great, so basically Mummy is an unemployed loser who has no choice but to stay home and take care of you kids! Previously, when I have talked about roles and jobs with the boys, I say that Mummy did have a job, I was a lawyer (like Sally from Cars) where I got to help people who had been very hurt in car accidents or work accidents, but that I had decided to stop working because taking care of them is the best and most important job in the world. I think my version is slightly more preferable!

To me, though, it isn't just a version, it is my truth...ever since I read somewhere that children are basically 'formed' by the age of 7 and in Raising Boys that childcare potentially can have a detrimental impact upon boys' emotional development. Also, I'm coming to realise that my issues with control probably play a big part in not being able to let go and allow anyone else to raise my children.

It is also the version that was modelled to me- my mum chose to stay home and take care of us, not returning to work until I was in Year 12 and my youngest sister in Grade 6. Not that I even slightly realised or appreciated the sacrifice that her choice entailed...until I hatched my own kidlets and faced the tumultuous roller coaster that motherhood provides on a daily basis. So, thanks again, Mum- I am very grateful for your choice to teach, nurture, encourage and care for us!

Some days, it feels like the 'job' is slowly driving me crazy. When you don't get the chance to debrief (without having chaos ensue around you) or zoom out to get a dose of perspective, you can become ruled by your emotions or reactions to situations and find it difficult to break the cycle. Today, I completely unfairly became angry at Ivy, a four month old baby, because she was failing to meet my unrealistic standards of timing for the dummy weaning project I have planned out for her. She was hysterically screaming, resisting sleep, and I was fuming, angrily willing her to conform to my lofty ideals. In the moment I couldn't even talk myself down or properly practice my meditative breathing because I was so consumed in the vortex of my own desires. It really wasn't until I shut the door after putting Hudson to bed this evening that perspective hit and I felt true sorrow over my actions.

Recently, Eli has been going through a 'mean' stage. Last week, he deliberately hurled to the ground all the pieces of the dollhouse I had been setting up to play a game with him, twice, just to see my reaction. He also is testing out the "You are a MEAN Mummy" phrase and Hudson, thinking it is hilarious, parrots it right after him. I know it is just a stage and that I shouldn't take these things personally, but at times I find it difficult. Also, the commonly expressed preference for Daddy has the tendency to get under my skin when I least expect it. Either I shut down a bit emotionally to avoid taking anything in, or I feel everything keenly. And I'm sure that the insults are just going to get a lot worse, and the button pushing a lot more accurate and relentless as they grow up. So I had better figure this one out soon, to avoid either being emotionally pummelled or slowly growing distant from my children.

I was chatting to Mum about it and saying that, realistically, the kids aren't going to appreciate my 'sacrifice' for another 25 years and I don't want to be the type of mother that sews on invisible strings to her sacrifices that tether her offspring to the home via guilt or obligation. My friend also shared that her mother often complains in a hurt voice how she did all the work with her and her sister, but they still prefer their father. That is so far from how I want to be remembered, but my every day actions and mentalities are the concrete stepping stones that are inevitably leading to the person that I will become.

In the peace of post-bedtime, I can breathe and appreciate the value of the job that I am inextricably entwined with now. And instead of feeling it like a noose or trap, the strings become threads that knit our family together. I do hope that one day Eli, Hudson and Ivy value the sacrifice that I have made to be at home with them, but if it ever becomes a club that I use to manipulate them into appreciating me, I know that I have fallen far off-course of the mother I would like to be. My choice has to be made out of love, not the fear of losing control, so no matter what the outcome, even if a word of appreciation is never spoken, I choose to make this role my everything because they are undeniably and unequivocally worth it.

Not sure if I should say this out loud or not, for fear of jinxing it, but life is actually getting less intense! 

It might be the fact that Dave has put his PhD on pause and now has glorious Fridays to spend adventuring with us... We went to the city under the pretext of dropping off his library books at the university and went for a jaunt through the city streets... As much as pushing a double pram with an extra pre-schooler crouched in the lower storage section can be called a jaunt, that is! We strolled the streets, avoiding hawkers, gravitated towards buskers and let Entertainment vouchers guide our path towards food. This may have ended in enough sweet potato fries to feed a small nation, and the boys' excitement at the prospect of chips sharply declined when they realised they were being duped with the healthy version. Needless to say, Dave never wants to see a sweet potato again. 

Dave found the experience a little stressful, and to be fair, he did push that mother of a pram up and down all the hills AND attempt to run over a kilometer back to the car with Eli on his shoulders as our parking meter was about to expire. I, on the other hand, actually feel quite zen in these adventures, savoring the taste of foods I rarely get the chance to sample- like Persian kebabs- and relishing the wonder on the kids faces as they take in the new surrounds.

Come to think of it, anything that can be remotely labelled an adventure energises me. Road trips, parties, special outings to the city, and kinder festivals, so it turns out.

On Wednesday, at twilight, the boys and I headed into the hills for a special outing at Eli's kinder. Originally I was just going to take Eli, but the thought of Hudson's face filling with wonder at seeing the bonfire and toasting his first marshmallow tipped me over. And the tiny voice from the backseat saying over and over 'Venture, Mummy!' was more than worth it. Eli relished showing Hudson around his domain and Hudson took to the play phones and cooking toys with gusto. There were the not so magical moments, like having to run around the oval after 7pm carrying a very tired Hudson and yelling at Eli to follow so that we could tick off 'night walk with lantern' from our bucket list. Also, when Eli made a detour through the mud and lost a shoe. But when the boys were home and tucked into bed, the overwhelming feeling (other than tiredness) was satisfaction. 

That's not to say that we have managed to avoid the crazy either. We set new records for crazy at the doctors this week. Upon hearing I was planning on taking all three kids to Ivy's appointment at the doctors, Pat offered to help out and look after the boys. "I'm sure I'll be fine", I foolishly declared, "what could go wrong in ten minutes?" As soon as we entered the room I realized my mistake. Hudson made a beeline for the unlocked cupboards while while Eli inspected the tiny box of toys and pronounced it boring. They then took turns lowering the bed, then raising it again. When they tired of that, Hudson stole the nurse's phone and Eli was under the chair playing with it. Eli managed to remove the hazardous waste container from the wall and attempted to put his hands inside. Then he almost choked himself with the measuring tape. At one point, both kids were switching lights on and off, Eli from a position of standing on the bed. Just before we left the room, Hudson tipped the box of toys onto the floor and decided to play with them. I was almost convinced they were shooting a movie and we were just playing our part in the scene! Thankfully, the nurse was amazingly tolerant and didn't even seem fazed by our craziness. If I had got the 'what kind of incompetent mother are you' vibe from her, I'd probably still be curled up under a chair in a heap. 

I came across a powerful quote this week that has helped my outlook: "An entire sea of water can’t sink a ship unless it gets inside the ship. Similarly, the negativity of the world can’t put you down unless you allow it to get inside you" (Goi Nasu). I always have a choice in my reactions to things, and meditative practices have been helping to expel the negative feelings and emotions welling up inside before they explode out onto my family in a burst of hot lava. Both adventures and the mundane can similarly offer roadblocks and sap energy, but if I can harness the power of perspective- and my sense of humour- life can feel a lot less like a drama genre and more action/comedy.

Though one thing is for sure... I won't be stupid enough to take all three to the doctors again! What the hell was I thinking!?