I have been walking around for the past two days with bicycle-riders bum.
I went for a bike ride with Jasper a couple of nights ago, and we ended up at the BMX track.
So, I automatically slip into "fun mum" mode, and proceeded to follow Jasper over the jumps, even got a little bit of "air" as I was jumping (are you visualising a voluptuous mumma on her little black retro bike, with a roller derby helmet, trying to jump her bike (and her own weight) over the BMX jumps after her 5 year old son? You know it! I'm cool! P)
But Cadel Evans I'm not, and the next day I woke up very saddle sore.
As I walked around like a cowboy with hemorrhoids, gingerly sitting down, alternating cheeks, I wondered, "Why do I keep doing this to myself?"
Is being a "fun-mum" worth it?
I thought of all the other scenarios that I had gotten myself into lately:
- Art angst: When you spend three days trying to get paint out of your hair after you used acrylic paint, not poster paint, for the afternoon painting session.
- Trampoline tight spot: It's not really a great idea for a woman who has had two children and is a little neglectful of her pelvic floor exercises, to jump on the trampoline with her kids.
- Cubby house collapse: Why do I keep crawling into these hazardous buildings my children and I make? My kids can get in and out of there no problems, but when I enter, I take out one (or more) of the supporting chairs and end up garroting myself on the roof sheet!
- Hide and seek heart attack: When your child finds a really good hiding spot, and you get more and more anxious as the time ticks by and you still haven't found them. You're about to start screaming hysterically, "WHERE ARE YOU!?" When they pop out of the dirty clothes basket gleefully yelling, "You couldn't find me mummy!!"
- Sparkle psychosis: The slow and degenerative madness you find yourself spiraling into as you keep finding glitter around the house, on the cat, on your face, in your cereal after a moment of craft weakness, where you caved in and let the kids use glitter.
So, I ask again ... Is being a "fun mum" worth it?
Of course it is! I may be a little masochistic and slightly mad, but all of my fun-mum follies are definitely worth it!
Are you a "fun mum"? Do you get yourself into these situations?
