I well remember when all the children were little, when I had four children under six. It seemed then that there were days in which I lurched from one disaster to another.
Scenes flit through my memories, the little crises; the smashed dozen eggs, the pound of butter ground into the back steps baking in the sun, the broken dishes, toilet training and a myriad others. And the scenes that haunt my memories, the bigger crises; the stopped up tub drain that overflowed and poured water through the ceiling, scaling a ladder left up by builders, 8 months pregnant in pursuit of our 18 month old as he danced along I-beams 2 storeys up.
I have been known to reassuringly tell mums of little ones, “It will get easier, once your oldest is nine life is less chaotic.” I’ve been thinking about this lately though, is this sage advice? Is it really true? I still have three children under six, true there are more eyes to head off potential disasters, however we don’t catch them all, disasters and messes occur reasonably regularly. I was pondering this yesterday as I fished an entire roll of toilet paper out of the toilet bowl and mopped up a litre of spilt milk, both courtesy of our 22 month old.
Is my life really less chaotic or am I just immune?