‘Hey Alfie, why don’t we ask dad to pick up all the crusts on the floor?
‘Let’s see if dad can take you to the park so that mum can have a sleep on her face.’
‘Why don’t you go into mum and dad’s room and wake up your father and show him how you have worked out how to squeal like a pinched pig?’
‘Why don’t we ask dad to change your stinky nappy?’
‘Let’s leave the wet washing on the floor and see if dad will hang it out.’
It’s not as if my husband doesn’t do anything. He does. Some weeks, he parents more than me, and some weeks I parent more than him. It all depends on our crazy work shifts. So, I don’t know why I turn into a condescending brat using my son as a force field. Have I forgotten how to talk to my husband?
Now that we are parents, we seem so much more connected. We were connected before, but it’s different now. We still have the occasional fight – mainly about food management or domestic duties – but we get over a fight so much quicker now. We both know how to cheer our son up if he is sad; we have even busted out synchronised dances without a rehearsal. This is how connected we are.
But then there are things about our relationship that seem so disconnected. The other day, I had a wax, not because I wanted to impress the old hubby, but because our son had swimming lessons later that week.
I wear pyjamas now, just in case I have to get up during the night. Sometimes, I put these on within ten minutes of arriving home from work: I pull my bra off through my sleeve in front of my husband while giving him the low-down on my day. And yesterday, I pointed to the aeroplane in the sky, forcing him to look.
Who am I now? When did I start wearing my husband’s socks to work? Why are farts now so ridiculously funny? Why did I just send my hubby a text saying, ‘Alfie took a crap on the abacus’, rather than ‘You’re a spunk’?
It’s so bloody difficult finding the balance between being a wife and a mum, that some days the roles just overlap. Some days, they are so far removed from each other that it all becomes confusing, and other days it just gels. What I do know is that in our little family we all seem to have a connection during the highs and the lows, even if it is laughing at farts, laughing at me, or just doing a plain old robot dance in the kitchen while arguing through gritted teeth. All in all, it gives us something to giggle about when we sit down for tea in our pjs.