Pat-a-cake

Those of you who read my blog regularly will know my day didn't start well, but I decided to deploy my fail safe weapon against the baby blues - I baked a cake. Now people have suggested that finding the time to make cakes amidst the chaos of caring for my crowd of children makes me some kind of superwoman. 

Those who know me better understand that the Lycra uniform sported by superheroes would do nothing for me, and that I simply whip out the spatulas and spoons to kid myself that I really am a domestic goddess to counter the mounting evidence that I am anything but. 

I have two friends who still recall with misty eyed fondness visiting me when all our first babies were freshly out of the womb and scoffing down thick slices of cherry and almond cake warm from my oven. The speak of this cake in awed tones as if it were manna from heaven. But I am sure it was more what the cake stood for that made it so special, a touch of indulgence in lives so recently plunged into dark drudgery of by our newborn babies. The chance to stop still and treat yourself in an endless day of breastfeeding, nappy changes and crying babies. 

When each of my subsequent babies were born I had to bake the same cake as some sort of birthing ritual, to prove I could still find the space and time to be me in  a world that is increasingly dominated by my babies. And any day, such as this, which starts sadly can only be improved by the addition of a homemade cheesecake

I am not sure that my brand of baking therapy is to everyone's taste, but it works for me and the best bit is that I get to have my cake and eat it.  

Groundhog day

Today, I concluded at around 5:15am, is not going to be a good one. This feeling was compounded when I found myself choking back tears over a news article about the Gurkhas on the breakfast radio show. Now I am the first to admit that tears do come relatively easily, but even for me this was a weep too far. 

I think my general feeling of melancholy is related to the repetitive nature of my life as a mum of multiples. Every day is unfolding to the same mundane pattern: 

Wake up (too early)

Feed babies, feed boys, clean kitchen, wash bottles, wash clothes, wash self, feed self, feed babies, pick up son number two, feed self, chores, feed babies, pick up son number two, feed boys, bath children, feed babies, watch TV comatose on sofa while consuming too much food and wine, sleep. 

Wake up (too early). 

You get the picture. Now as a seasoned mummy I know this phase doesn't last forever, but I also know I've got a couple more years of it and I'm bored already. 

Boredom alone isn't enough to reduce me to tears though and there are few contributing factors that are making life particularly bleak right now. Firstly, the English spring/summer weather. Now I never used to suffer from SAD - after all what difference did it make if it was rain or shine outside if you were stuck in front of a computer in an office - but now I have children I HATE the rain. 

Wet weather imprisons me in the house as the palaver involved in taking out any configuration of my offspring and keeping they dry just isn't worth the bother. By the time I have struggled the babies into their recalcitrant buggy and enshrouded it in the voluminous rain cover, hooded up boy two and wrested with an umbrella, holding hands and pushing the pram, I am soaked to the skin, everyone is whining and a trip to a wet, windswept park is the last thing any of us wants to do. 

Sadly and aversion to rain doesn't sit well in a country so regularly soaked in the stuff, but I still can't help it that now I have children to entertain and exercise waking up to the pitter patter of torrential raindrops makes my mood as grey as the skies above. 

Second factor that is darkening my horizon is that the second member of my parenting team has been down with a variety of sickness ever since the twins were born and is now due to have an operation that, it is claimed, will make  him well again - but not before a two-week convalescence that will leave me in sole charge of our brood. 

It's amazing  how low it can make you feel when the only other adult with whom you have regular contact and conversation is off message for reasons of their own. My other half has been half the man he usually is thanks to general malaise relating to a bad back, throat and other miscellaneous complaints. I just want my team back on form again with no one out due to injuries or illness, then hopefully I can get back on top of my game. 

Tomorrow is another day and TFI Friday. If both sky and other half wake up in a sunny mood then fingers crossed I won't find myself holding back the tears over the washing up bowl again.