There’s not much I don’t know about dinosaurs. Take your Triceratops for example, for all its three horned head butting ability, it’s still only an herbivore. Around during the Cretaceous Period, it’s one to remember. I could go on, for pages and pages about Dinosaurs, all shapes, sizes, winged and un-winged, meat-eating or not. Ad nauseum. Mother of three sons. My specialist subject is extinct sauropods.
I used to be a contender but now put me in a room full of adults now and I’m a rookie. I think I might have regressed myself. I know all about it. My second son has taken months to toilet train (apologies if you’re reading this Secondo in the future but mommy needed an outlet), he regressed you see, to babyhood on the arrival of his cute, gurgling, nappy-ed younger brother. And it broke my heart. Seeing him a boy frustrated that Mommy had brought another blue-eyed boy to replace him. Not true, not true at all. In the past week, we’ve had a Eureka moment and he’s gone to use the toilet, all by himself. Like a big boy. I do go on, what hope is there for me? A contender, a contender!
You see, I’m now an expert on toilet training and dinosaurs but would you want to sit next to me over coffee? I wouldn’t. I’m like the self conscious eighteen year old again listening to myself as I speak to adults. Am I a bore? I used to be interesting, if I do say so myself but these days when I open mouth I say things like ‘climb off that couch’ or ‘take your hand out of there!.’ Not exactly conversation openers are they?
Lately, I’ve been dipping my toe into ‘real world’ waters again, teaching a bit, the odd conference, writing, but it’s difficult after you’ve been at home with young children for a while. For a start, you really can’t keep up with the who’s watching what on television. Before all this motherhood started, it was all about reality TV, are we still watching folk having inane conversation about toenail clipping on a couch in a random house in the UK for example?
And what are you wearing? I live in the countryside and don’t often get to the city which is eye opening I can tell you. What I’ve realized in a world post maternity wear is everyone is wearing black and white, I wouldn’t even call it check, but it’s check patterned.
Come to think of it actually, I quite happy here in my motherhood bubble for another bit talking about poo-poos and Tyrannosaurus Rex until the cows come home. I’ll take my second coming as a debutante in my own time. Practicing talking about grown up subjects to anyone who’ll listen. You can do without my tuppence worth for another while world, there’s more important work to be done. Rrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaarrrh.
Not boring at all! I love reading your posts and you have carried me back to potty training and dinosaurs with a happy, nostalgic, rose-tinted glow.
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Ah thanks Sam, I appreciate it. You know yourself, on a farm, you live in a sort of bubble of your own hoping that you will fit into ‘the real world’ again on your return! Thanks ever for you reading! Anne