Why don’t things just work!!

Why don’t things just work!!! I’ve got a moderately expensive can opener which has a problem with tin cans. I had a miniature work out this morning, trying to open a can of chopped tomatoes, whilst I rushed to make a spaghetti bolognaise ready for dinner tonight. As a parent, I have a number of similar gripes. All things that make my day a misery, as I run around trying to keep up with myself.


…and why do I always need a wee!?!

Why do the car seat belts lock while I am stationary? Always while I am in a hurry, trying to fasten the monkeys in while they are crying/shrieking/moving like an army of ants have moved into their pants! So, why does this always make me need a wee?

Why doesn’t the fluff catcher never slide back into the tumble dryer with the same ease as it came out? Do I always need to wrestle with it, shout and swear, bang and clang it? Until, as if by magic, it suddenly slides back into place. As if it was saying to me “what’s all the fuss about? This is how I go in!” (Aaaaarrrrrggggghhhh!)

Why do the people who plan public toilets rarely put a toilet in with the baby change facilities? Or why doesn’t every disabled toilet have a fold down change mat? It makes so much sense. Once you have had a baby you always need a wee. Especially when something annoying has just happened like a badly timed poo (baby not me).

Actually, come to think of it, why do I always need a wee at the most inconvenient time? For example, when the monkeys start fighting/as soon as the swimming lesson starts/immediately after I have just had one! Also, why do the monkeys always need a badly timed poo? For example, as soon as we need to leave/have left/the swimming lesson has just started/they’ve just had one!!!

I am supposed to be a grown up

Why do the parent/child parking spaces always have to be by the shop entrance/cash point? All I need is enough space to get the monkeys out and safe passage to the front door. Why, when I have parked in a normal bay, does someone park right next to me (on both sides) so close that I have to squeeze the children/car seat in through a tiny gap? Cue another urge to go to the toilet or a monkey needing/having a poo.

Why do I always spill something on myself when I have just put a clean top on? It is way more annoying than when the kids do it because I am supposed to be a grown up.

Why do the monkeys always wet the bed the night after I change the sheets? Or spill something on the kitchen chairs after I have soaked them for two days in stain remover? Remind me again, why did we buy fabric covered kitchen chairs in the first place?

Why do the monkeys have tantrums, involving the throwing of a heavy metal toy, as soon as we finally get the hall decorated? Leaving dents in the new paintwork in at least five places. (Sigh!)

Why do I always fall over when I need to stop a monkey running into imminent danger? Or when I am trying to look like a grown up in control of her life and children?

Why is my monkey’s hearing selective?

Why doesn’t the GP offer long appointments so that I can go and moan for an hour about all my ailments at once? I struggle to make time for one appointment. I can’t risk the doctor being late. In fact why doesn’t the NHS offer a one stop shop annual MOT? I need to see the GP, Dentist and Optitian and haven’t time for any of them. Hence being half blind, having tooth ache and unable to grip or open stuff because my arthritic hand is worse than ever. (Sigh).

Why don’t kids toys come ready made? Or why don’t toy stores offer a free assembly service? It would have saved me many a birthday/Christmas Eve wielding a hammer/screwdriver, sweating, swearing and shouting/crying. Pass the festive gin please? No I don’t need ice or lime. Or tonic…or even a glass.

Why is my monkeys hearing selective? Also, why do they always fart near me when we are not alone, then move away laughing? Or come over for a cuddle, fart on me then leave smiling to themselves? Why won’t they just put their shoes on and why do they always smell funny? Also, what is that on their trousers?

Why are all of the surfaces in my home covered in something sticky and why does my kitchen floor crunch? I only just cleaned them and swept it!

I could go on…

…but I won’t. Most of these questions can be answered simply. I’m a parent. Stressed, always worrying, sleep deprived with one hundred priorities, battling each other in my brain. I’ve grown and delivered three babies and keep forgetting my pelvic floor exercises. That’s why I always need a wee.

Toy manufacturers aren’t worried about my sanity, they just want to make a profit. They know my kids will want stuff wether I want it or not and, they also know that sometimes I am too tired to argue. People who design toilets or car parks probably don’t have children or know how annoying a lack of toilet or well placed parking spaces are to the families that use them.

I don’t function very well because I have very little time on my hands for me. My clothes have holes in them because my children swing on them and I have limited funds to replace them. I am covered in food and snot most days. But that’s ok, it needs to go somewhere and my washing machine hasn’t broken (yet).

What is the worst that can happen?

Essentially, I need to make time to slow down and plan a little bit. My time to run and clear my mind. Make sense and order of all my priorities. Obviously not all of the time, but maybe sometimes. What is the worst that can happen? The seat belts will fasten properly, the fluff tray will fit easily, the toys will be assembled a couple of days before the birthday or Christmas (pass the gin in the glass with ice, tonic and lime). I’ll have time to let the monkeys mess about a bit whilst getting ready to go out and I will have time for that precautionary wee. I could make that appointment at the doctors/dentist/opticians so I can feel a bit less annoyed?

I could pause and remember that they will only be this age once and soon things will change again. They will stop wanting to swing or fart on me. They will just fart elsewhere. The smells will still be there for a bit. They will change and become more potent. (I have brothers, the memories of the smells never really leave you). Soon the smells will be masked by grown men smells. Bought by girlfriends, boyfriends, husbands or wives.

Ignore some of the jobs in favour of farty cuddles

My baby girl will grow too. Look to me to teach her what she needs to know about how to be a grown woman. I hope I can pass on respect for herself and others, a slightly quirky dress sense and the confidence to wear it. The ability to laugh at herself and pretend she meant to fall over in the street even when she didn’t.

My home will be quiet, my floors and surfaces will be clean and clear. My walls finished and holes filled. I will have all the me time and sleep that I want. So in the meantime, I will remember to pause, take a breath and enjoy the multicoloured world that I live in now. The sights, sounds and smells (well maybe not all of the smells). Take time for me so that I don’t forget to appreciate the good stuff mixed in with the annoying bits. Ignore some of the jobs in favour of farty cuddles and play time. As for the can opener, I think I’ll just buy a new one.


Diary of an imperfect mum


  1. What a great post. I think every parent reading this will identify with your struggle. Yes, buy the new tin opener! Some times it’s the small thing s like a new tin opener that can make the big difference. But I’m with you on enjoying the farty cuddles whilst you can too. Thank you for linking up to #ablogginggoodtime
    An imperfect mum (Catie) recently posted…Weekly Roundup #30My Profile

  2. I’m glad your new tin opener changed your life! I could identify to the rushing around and just wanting things to work that I read in your post! I spent a lot of my childrens’ early years the same way, too much to do – too little time.
    I’m glad to have learned how to slow down now, it really is a necessity for my sanity! Sounds like you have found the ability to pause too. Well done.
    JuggleMum, Nadine Hill recently posted…Chocolate chilli con carneMy Profile

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