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| December weeknight parental survival kit deployed. |
22 days until another Christmas. And in the blink of a sleep deprived - possibly crusted with some daycare conjunctivitis - eye, more than two years have passed since I last tapped out a Mumdanity post.
Yet despite the emergence of daughter number two, the increasing height and sass of daughter number one, and the total annihilation of my final remnants of sanity, the mumdanity continues.
Indeed, the mumdanity is roaring louder than ever. I hear it through the bathtime screams, and over my kids as they shout demands down the supermarket aisles. It is dogged. It pushes its way over the vacuum. It rumbles alongside and in time with the daily commute. It stutters with perfect stacatto through Saturday ballet. Somehow, it even pushes through the infernal wall of white noise behind which we hide the toddler. And ourselves.
Time is limited these days, much like loo paper supplies in our house now that toilet training is back in our lives in earnest. But the squeezing of time is no excuse to let a good outlet for mundane, mumdane, mad, mothering mayhem disappear into the couch cracks with the sultanas and twenty cent coins.
Mumdanity is making a comeback, one Instagram picture at a time - with added ramblings when the universe allows.
M x
