Motherhood Is For Life - Not Just For Christmas

I was supposed to be going to see Vicster and baby Lola today but, as my car had been transformed into a giant snowball overnight, we thought it best to rearrange.

The day isn’t a total write-off though as I have a reservation for dinner at Glam-Nan’s and Snowy’s at 6pm. It gets better. Chickie’s booked in for bed and breakfast. His room’s dusted, his cot washed and ready, his tea is being prepared as I type, the central heating reprogrammed to Chickie time and I get to sit back and let Glam-Nan take over. Not because I make her, but because she can’t help herself. Brilliant.

In short, I can revert to the belligerent teenager my parents enjoyed for all those fun filled years. ‘My’ sofa that I lounged on unashamedly for most of my adolescence still houses a full size ‘Liz’ shaped dent that fits me to this very day, albeit a little snugger than before.

It doesn’t get better than living with Glam-Nan. This is the woman who would kneel by my bedside and feed me marmite on toast whilst I struggled to gain consciousness in the morning. Tea was cooked to my exact fuss filled specification and brought to my throne bang on 5pm without my even having to turn away from the TV. Clean, crisp clothes just grew in my wardrobe. Taxi rides were complimentary. In short, it was a cushy, cushy number which, like so many things in life, I can only really appreciate now that it’s gone.

A couple of hours reliving my carefree, pampered days was a divine prospect and I was raring to go. I squished my momentary feeling of cautiousness about being so excited as I was feeling optimistic that such a simple handover couldn’t possibly go wrong - “Mum, here’s Chickie. Bye.”

Hours later, instead of being propped up by fluffy cushions with one of my special blankies tucked round my tootsies, I was shouting for Glam-Nan to come upstairs and help me as a still awake Chickie was firing from every orifice. As I hid the wee wee stain on her carpet with a baby wipe, she washed and dried his pukey sleeping bag with the hairdryer. I then changed his nappy for the third time in half an hour as it seemed the lactulose had finally kicked in. Forty-five minutes of cuddling and temperature taking later and Chickie was finally asleep and deemed well enough for his sleep over.

As I threw the dirty nappy bag down the stairs, Glam-Nan was on it like a hungry raccoon. It’s that kind of service that I miss. Love you Mum and sorry about the carpet and the 3am wake up call xxx