Baby blues melt on a sunny afternoon

04 October 2015 - 02:00 By Shanthini Naidoo

It is 5pm on a sunny Friday afternoon. Facebook memories remind me that four years ago I was having the first of Spring sundowners on a Parkhurst sidewalk with friends. That golden hour before sunset is best watched through a glass of grassy, chilled sauvignon blanc, right? Fast forward to today. Golden hour is now the time between helper beating a hasty retreat and reinforcements, ie husband, arriving. It is only golden because if you get through it alone without damage, you deserve a freaking medal.Toddler is pushing a chair to the most dangerous tall cupboard to find paints. Who paints that late in the afternoon?Newborn, being held over the shoulder like a telephone receiver, is yelling from the over-stimulation of the toddler singing her ABC song to "help" her sister sleep. There is a slightest, sweet smell of baby poo in the air.story_article_left1This new mother of two ignores the smell because of the investment in expensive nappies which buy a few minutes before changing time. Wired after a cup of tea and two chocolates from the secret stash, baby blues kicking in from miscalculated nap times which did not fit in a mom nap (secret to survival, this hour or 15 seconds of rejuvenation, if you can get it), the dragging sound is like chalkboard and nails.Toddler finds bubbles instead of paints. Pours bubbles onto tiles, health hazard created. Toddler happily mops up bubble solution, which brings on more baby blues over-emo tears, because she is so grown up and responsible.Mother makes more bubble solution with one hand, testing ratio of liquid soap to water which makes the strongest, chaseable bubbles.Still carrying newborn like a telephone, now with both hands free, try to blow bubbles and feel both ridiculous and irresponsible, taking huge parenting risks with the tiny child.Give up dangerous activity and leave toddler to decant the perfect bubble solution onto other slippery tiles.Realise supper and bedtime still has to come, feel feverish and another bout of blues.Hear garage door open and breathe again.Time check.5.31pm.*No children were harmed in the writing of this column. And the writer is smitten. Even when left alone with two young girls, for 31 minutes on a sunny Friday afternoon.

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