The Best Mummy In The World

Briar was about four weeks old, and I was still in the Guilt Phase.   Any parent of more than one child will know what I mean.

It had been just Maz and I for nearly two years, my total undivided devotion to one absolutely adored child.  We spent our entire days together from sun-up to sun-down.  We ate together, we played together, we bathed together, and – while she was potty training – we peed together.

I’d had the usual pang of guilt while pregnant with Briar, trying to explain to Maz that we loved her so much and she was so wonderful that we wanted to have another baby just like it.

In hindsight, it’s probably not the best selling point.  If Neil came home and told me he loved me so much he wanted to get another girlfriend just like me, I’d probably react the way Maz did too.

Well, I probably wouldn’t bite the new girlfriend on the cheek while she was sleeping;  but I too definitely would have asked him when we were going to take it back to the hostibal.

To add insult to injury, not only was this new arrival taking all of my previously dedicated devotion-time, it was getting special treatment too.

As Maz watched me breastfeed one afternoon, we had a rather odd conversation.  I can only blame myself for her lack of education, but in fairness I couldn’t have been expected to have foreseen this particular topic.

“Mummy, I not like milk, aye Mummy?”

“No darling, you don’t really like milk do you?”

“No.  I not like milk.  Milk yuck”

“Well mummy likes milk, but Madison doesn’t”

“I like memonade Mummy”

“Yes, you do like lemonade missy don’t you?  It’s all bubbly and funny isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I like it aye Mummy?”

“Yep.  You sure do.”

“You make me some memonade in that one Mummy?”

So not only was I effectively ignoring her a lot lately, I was also refusing to lactate lemonade.  I was on the back foot to begin with.

One morning I decided we’d visit the toy library to see what was on offer, and much to Maz’s delight there was a toy kitchen there.  We’re talking uber-cool toddler kitchen here, it was so large it only just fit in front of the Falcon on the bench seat.   Using the column change was a little tricky, but I was a safe Mum and with the girls both happily strapped into their appropriate car seats in the back, it wouldn’t fit.

Well, it WOULD, but it just didn’t seem right driving home with Maz’s head inside an oven.

When we got home I told Maz she needed to have a nap while I got her kitchen ready.  It must have been the first time she went to sleep without the mandatory 45 minutes of negotiations.  I got Briar down to sleep as well, and starting devising my elaborate plan of becoming The Best Mum In The World.

I started by preparing all of Maz’s favourite lunch foods.  I made little luncheon sandwiches and cut them into tiny little triangles.  I cut carrots into little strips and I cut cheese into little squares.  I chopped some strawberries and washed some grapes.  I opened a pack of her favourite muesli bars and I poured her some nice juice.  

I put all these little snacks into various pieces of her little tea set then hid them all through the little kitchen.

I was so excited about her finding her surprise that I was getting impatient for her to wake up before Briar did.  I may have gone in and whispered her name and when that didn’t work poked her and when that didn’t work kissed her on the cheek and combined that with accidentally banging into her bed and shaking it like a 5.6 on the Richter and she finally roused her from her sleep.

“Missy, oh my goodness!  While Mummy was getting lunch ready I’m SURE I heard someone playing with your kitchen!”

She rubs her eyes and slowly stumbles out of bed as I pull her by her hand excitedly from the bedroom to the lounge, where the huge little kitchen is sitting in all it’s glory.

“I don’t know who it was, but I’m sure I heard the doors opening and shutting!”

She hides behind my legs looking over towards her kitchen a little warily.

I didn’t really think this through too well either.

“I’m pretty sure I heard little fairy giggles!  What do you think they were doing?”

“I dunno!   What in my kitchen?”

“I don’t know missy, why don’t we have a look?”

Over we walk and, looking a little happier now, she starts making her way around the kitchen.  Opening the little microwave door, she spies a plate of little sandwiches.  Her eyes light up and she moves on to the next bit.  Pulling out the little drawer, she sees her little teacup with cheese bites in it.  On to the little pot on the stove, she lifts the lid and finds some carrot sticks inside.  Her smile is getting bigger as she makes her way to the bottom cupboard and discovers another teacup filled with strawberries and a saucer of grapes.  Moving around she opens the second bottom drawer to find a muesli bar and a little teapot full of juice. 

I’m biting my lip and wiping my eyes, so caught up in the simple delight and joy that I’ve bought to her wee afternoon.  Her whole face is beaming now, as she reaches up and discovers the last item – the holy grail of toddler food – a packet of raisins.  

She finally laughs, claps her hands, and says “ohhhhhh… fank you Daddy!”