Answering life's questions

I have been tagged by Knackered Mother to answer some personal questions. You have probably noticed I don’t generally play Cyber-tag memes, but I have made an exception for Knackered Mother because I love the fact that each of her posts includes a wine recommendation. Here is a mother who recognises the true reward of parenting. Bedtime.

So here are the questions I’ve been posed;

What experience has most shaped you, and why?

This is an easy one; my son’s death. How could it not? I watched him take his first breath and five weeks later I held him as he took his last. I have changed beyond all measure as a result. I am both more and less tolerant; more understanding of life’s challenges yet less sympathetic of those with trivial issues who lack the context to understand the bigger picture. I am more measured, less hot-tempered, more positive and perhaps even a little fatalistic as a result of his existence. I value each day a little more.

Tackling the Domestics

I'm not very comfortable managing domestic staff.  It's not a problem at work; I feel perfectly comfortable tasking my staff, addressing performance issues and ensuring their developmental needs are met.  Yet back in my home environment I lose my professional edge and become fearfully apologetic in my requests for quite legitimate tasks.  My conversations with the nanny are peppered with "would you mind awfully..?" and "is there any chance you could..?"  I am pathetically grateful that her presence enables me to have a career and go to the loo on my own, and feel continually that she is over-worked, underpaid and underappreciated.  I am forever thrusting bottles of wine in her hand at the end of the day.  It's probably pushing her towards the brink of alcoholism actually, I must try something healthier instead.  Perhaps a pineapple. 

Choosing the perfect childcare

The new nanny has started, following a brief handover period with the outgoing Mary Poppins.  Readers who have been around for a while will remember my angst over the arrival of our first nanny and I am relieved to discover I have relaxed considerably since then.  It no longer concerns me that she may inadvertently stumble upon my vibrator (it being now irretrievably locked in a cupboard) and to be frank I would not be overly hasty with the P45 if I were to find her in a compromising position with my husband.  This is in no way a reflection of the state of our relationship, simply an understanding of how difficult it is to find good childcare. 

Doing it like big brother

Despite having the bladder capacity of a gnat, two year old G is insistent that she is ready for big girl pants like her twin sister, whose sixteen minute seniority makes a huge difference to sibling hierarchy. And to bladder capacity. Three year old J still needs prompting, so all in all we spend a lot of time pulling pants up and down. The children's pants, that is. Mine tend to remain firmly up nowadays. After all, that's what got me in trouble in the first place.