A lesson to be learned
April 2nd, 2008, 11:17 pm Hobbies News
There I was a few days ago with my baby Ella strapped to my torso, my oldest sons skis over my shoulder and my hands full of ski passes, lesson cards, car keys, the house key, my cellphone and my gloves.
I was hobbling along an icy track trying to get my two sons to their ski lesson on time without falling or blowing my top.
My stress level was hovering at about maximum as the lesson was due to start when my youngest son Tom, 5, calmly asked: %26quot;Wheres my other glove?%26quot; His gloves were the only items he had to carry. I took a deep breath and prepared to trudge back over the path to find it when his big brother Hugo, 10, informed me that he must have dropped one too.
Using the most appropriate English I could muster, I colourfully told the boys to stay put while I attempted to retrace our steps and find the missing gloves.
I was searching and muttering English and French curses under my breath when I met a friend whose daughter was also taking ski lessons.
%26quot;Is this Toms glove,%26quot; she asked.
Unbelievably, they had spotted it in the snow and picked it up. I thanked my friend and told her that unfortunately that was only part of the missing load.
Even more unbelievably she had seen a dark-coloured glove by the ticket office. I rushed over and yes, it was Hugos.
I stood there for a second and let the relief flood over me. Then I thought of how ridiculous my reaction had been to the whole incident.
The level of stress I experienced getting my sons to their ski lesson was higher than giving birth in a foreign land.
It was a school holiday ski lesson for goodness sake. What has become of me? I think its symptomatic of my new life as a fulltime mum. My husband, Franck, had been working long hours without a day off and Id been single-handedly running a home and looking after three children %26mdash; during a two-week school holiday too.
Work, with other adults, seems easy by comparison. There are smoko breaks, the chance to concentrate on only one task at a time and adult conversations to be had.
Thankfully, Franck got that following weekend off and we headed to family in Burgundy to introduce 4-month-old Ella to the many French relatives she had yet to meet. There was plenty of help for me. I didnt have to cook or wash any clothes and the boys had a terrific time with their cousin at a fair that was in town.
For me the final week of the school holidays was a taste of fulltime single parenting and Im glad thats not a yoke I have to bear all the time.
To all the single parents out there, by golly I take off my hat %26mdash; and gloves %26mdash; to you.
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