The woman at the Tesco Riverside checkout looked worried.
“Are they, you know, OK?”
She was talking about the three boys battering each other by the windows overlooking the Tay. My boys.
“Absolutely fine,” I said. “That’s them having fun. Trying to give each other a dead arm. It gives me a few minutes to pack the shopping. Best leave them to it.”
She gave a lopsided smile and I reassured her again.
“Right enough,” she said, “They’re all laughing. I’ve got daughters and granddaughters. I guess it’s just different.”
Back home, I lose my temper as trails of shoes and clothes make pathways to the sofa, where mini-packs of Maltesers have been hidden behind cushions.
The toilet seat wields its trademark spray of wee around the seat.
“AIM INSIDE THE TOILET!” I shout. “PUT YOUR CLOTHES AWAY! USE THE BIN. ARE YOU LISTENING? RIGHT, THAT’S IT. IPAD BAN FOR A MONTH!”
I’m sure it sounds familiar to anyone with kids.
Or a husband – not you, dear reader, other husbands. Outside Dundee.
Being a mum of three boys is wonderful. It’s magical and it’s hilarious.
No, I don’t crave a girl – I know some women have a deep longing for a daughter but for me, this feels meant.
Like any mum, I just wanted them healthy. That said, I am outnumbered – four to one.
And while the youngest loves a bit of gymnastics, dance and glitter… French plaits and pink tutus he won’t allow.
And somehow the scale – of hormones, femininity and gender – has to be redressed.
And so, I took action. The spare bedroom is pink – pink bed (actual bed) along with linen, with pink velvet chair, cushions and lamps.
I think it looks charming.
Jamie thinks it has the air of a brothel.
And now I’m not the only girl in the house – as Bruce and Babs, brother and sister kittens from Angus Rescue Centre, recently joined the family.
Babs is industrious – exploring, cleaning herself, cleaning Bruce. Bruce purrs. Again, like no husbands in Dundee.
But the morello cherry on the cake?
My car finished its four-year lease and it was time to chose a new one.
There was a list of colours and I couldn’t stop thinking about the pink. Well, ‘frozen berry.’ I chose it.
It’s good to do things for your kids but not to lose yourself.
So I’ll do the football runs, the rugby and runny noses.
But I will also teach them about Girl Power, doing it all in a pink car.
MARTEL MAXWELL: Girl Power will add some spice to house full of boys
15
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18.01.2024
The woman at the Tesco Riverside checkout looked worried.
“Are they, you know, OK?”
She was talking about the three boys battering each other by the windows overlooking the Tay. My boys.
“Absolutely fine,” I said. “That’s them having fun. Trying to give each other a dead arm. It gives me a few minutes to pack the shopping. Best leave them to it.”
She gave a lopsided smile and I reassured her again.
“Right enough,” she said, “They’re all laughing. I’ve got daughters and granddaughters. I guess it’s just different.”
Back home, I lose my temper as trails of shoes and clothes........
© The Courier
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