**Muireann Kyeyune, lives with her husband and three boys in Yorkshire, England. It is a story of boy meets girl in Uganda and they have lived and worked in Uganda, Ireland, Northern Ireland and England. Muireann is a marketing professional on a career break as she gets on with the adventure of parenting. *
It’s about 8am and for most of an hour two out of my three children have been taking turns wailing. No other word for the high pitched cries that can sometime (but not always) mark a Monday. Okay I can’t really blame the ‘wobbler’. He’s only just turned one, wobbling as he walks and he’s always the last one I can attend to. He’s the last to be gotten out of his cot, last to be bathed and dressed. I do my best to spoonfeed him his porridge, in between my own gulps of breakfast.
Today though it’s not my tardiness in feeding him, it’s his eighth tooth cutting through the gum. My toddler, nearly three, on the other hand is just tired. Every tiny detail of our morning routine that I’ve somehow missed is magnified resulting in the ‘end of world’ sobbing. You know the kind of thing – a spoon not put in the right place or putting on his eczema cream before giving him a squirt. We’ve had an amazing weekend, seeing friends we haven’t seen for ages. However over the course of Friday, Saturday and Sunday we’ve clocked up 4.5 missed sleep hours. It’s hard to stick to the bedtime routine rigidly on the weekend. My boys seem to save hours up and then wait for Monday to implode. We are running late. I have managed to coax my five year old zombie into his school uniform and he’s starting to pull on black shoes. We’re by the door doing the Velcro together when the smell heralding a poo wafts our way. I quickly race up the stairs for a prompt diaper change of the toddler and decide to pop into the loo myself. Catastrophe strikes as my cellphone falls down the toilet. I run downstairs and bury the phone in a bowl of white rice. Suddenly it’s 8:50 and I bundle everyone into the double buggy and out we go.
Luckily the sun is shining and the miracle is I’m in a good mood despite the morning’s events. Usually I don’t keep my cool and get increasingly stressed with every ticking minute that passes. We are late but at least we are out in the countryside lanes enjoying our walk.
It’s after nine and the school line has long since disappeared into the school. I’m hunched over with another parent trying to talk my son out of the shrubs. He’s suddenly got very self conscious about his weekend haircut and refuses to go into the classroom in case the children see how flat his hair is. I take a deep breath and smile that nervous smile of mine. It’s just another case of the Mondays. We all have them, I tell myself, whether we live in a small town in England (like me) or one in America (like you)!
Text ©Muireann Kyeyune, February 2015
Photography © Lauren Parnell Marino, October 2014