A Not So Turkish Life

Five minutes peace

Today’s Friday. The snow is around 10 inches deep and M made me cry again today.

It’s not him, really. I should be better at dealing with it, but the past two mornings, the shouting at me, screaming, tugging my leg not even letting go for me to pee, incessant until I pick him up is driving me crazy. It’s started literally the second G’s left the flat; door closes, baby winges. And I don’t know why.

Maybe he’s bored, I think, maybe he knows when Baba leaves it’s just the two of us again. Let’s do something different. I suggest playing with bubbles, put him in his highchair with paints and paintbrushes, offer ‘new’ rotated toys..nothing gives. All that works is holding him. And I will hold him, will spend the rest of today cuddling watching ;snowflakes fall outside, but first I’d like a shower – this is day 3 without one now – and the kitchen must be tidied.

It’s been a tough few weeks. The weather in Istanbul has been horrid. We live at the top of a hill, on a street which is never gritted for snow. If it’s windy, we feel a gale; if it snows, the street’s an ice-rink. Given that pregnant babywearing ice-skating isn’t recommended exactly, we’ve been housebound a lot. No matter how committed a stay-at-home-Mum you are, 14 hours just you and your little makes for very long days when there’s not even the respite of a trip to the market to break up the day. By the end of last week both M and I were suffering from cabin fever and I was looking forward to a few days at the beginning of this week to enjoy the forecast break in snow clouds and get us re-stocked up on fresh air. Then the poor mite went down with a tummy bug lasting from Saturday to Wednesday and then it started snowing again. Yesterday all I wanted was the backlog of laundry in the machine but my no-longer sick baby was having none of it. He held onto my leg screaming, lay on the floor shouting and I couldn’t move from basket to machine. Today I just want to get clean.

"Five Minutes Peace" Jill Murphy

Just five minutes, babyone – give Mummy five minutes.

Yesterday, when M was finally content in the wrap which had taken ten minutes to put on because he simply wouldn’t keep still, I looked round the flat. The spare room holds two half-finished paintings, one with a wonky fence from an ill-fated idea to paint with M in the ring-sling, a desk strewn with fabric cuttings from clothes I’m trying to piece together and the fabric quiet-book I’ve been promising to make since he was born. The front room is strewn with ironing, half waiting to be ironed, half waiting to be hung. On the dining table sits the camera and its cable, waiting to be connected, photos uploaded so I can put together M’s First Year book and get it printed in time; kitchen counters hold the makings of a soup not likely to get made. How do others do this? Tidy homes, home-cooked food, multiple babies and still do the craft stuff. This week it’s been all I can do to make it to a prayer mat on time.

M didn’t mean to make me cry. And I’m sure he really doesn’t want a smelly Mum.he just doesn’t know quite what he wants. Someone told me once that the couple of days following a kid being sick is the hardest part of illness – the time when they’re not ill anymore just grouchy and whiney. I get that now.

I’m thankful tomorrow is Saturday and I’m so grateful that G can be home: Mummy needs a shower if not a few hours off, maybe even start/finish his book but today is about getting through so let me feed him some soup, forget about the kitchen, sprinkle talc on my hair and give in to the kettle; more story-books, huh?

books, books and more books, Mum

slow down mummy, there is no need to rush,
slow down mummy, what is all the fuss?
slow down mummy, make yourself a cup tea.
slow down mummy, come spend some time with me.

slow down mummy, let’s pull boots on for a walk,
let’s kick at piles of leaves, and smile and laugh and talk.
slow down mummy, you look ever so tired,
come sit and snuggle under the duvet, and rest with me a while.

slow down mummy, those dirty dishes can wait,
slow down mummy, let’s have some fun – bake a cake!
slow down mummy, I know you work a lot,
but sometimes mummy, it’s nice when you just stop.

sit with us a minute,
and listen to our day,
spend a cherished moment,
because our childhood won’t stay!

~ R. Knight

This entry was published on 02/10/2012 at 11:17. It’s filed under Baby 'n' Me, Photos and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

3 thoughts on “Five minutes peace

  1. Oh dear. My girl is EXACTLY the same way. THe moment her Papi leaves for work on Monday morning, everything goes to pot. Whining, crying, carrying on, wanting to be picked up and nursed all the time. She’d go to pieces if I tried to wash up after breakfast, or, *gasp* put on clothes. I’d always feel super guilty, because my attachment parenting leanings taught me never to let babies cry yada yada yade.

    But, I decided that my mental health was important. So I made a decision to just not accept that sort of behaviour, to expect that she, at 20 months, can wait five minutes before being picked up. I look at her in the eyes, and say calmly but with authority, you need to wait. And then she did. It was like really a miracle. And we’re both so much happier. (Okay, this has been going on approx 3 days, and maybe it’s a coincidence, but I’m happy regardless).

    Not suggesting that this is what you should try, but rather, that I totally understand the feeling of not having a moment, and longing for one. You’ll find your way, I know it!

  2. Pingback: Forgetting to soak the beans « A Not So Turkish Life

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