for the next few days i am assuming the glamorous persona of a non-mother of multiples.

in truth, the glam begins tomorrow evening. tomorrow day i have to take carys to physio in the morning, and in the afternoon take all three babies for immunizations. but come the evening, i will slap on the war paint and scrape off the baby throwup/formula/smears of baby poo on my outfit caused from wiping my hands right after changing a diaper on the outside of my leg and head over to the tres swish china club, where i, am covering the china staff awards. it is a small gig, just 2.000 words including sidebars, but i am looking forward to it and writing a different style of article than i do for tatler, my monthly column.

i will introduce myself as tess.
not as sebastian’s mother, not as jasper, sela or carys’ mother. not as the nicu survivor. or the woman who often showers after 1pm.

(brisk handshake.)tess, china staff, mayigetaquoteplease.

then friday, i will begin writing the article while researching tatler, which is due on sunday.

and friday afternoon i take a hiatus back into mumsyville, to take sebastian to a halloween party.

friday night, charles and i are attending a seminar together. it concludes saturday afternoon. v. v. impressive sounding, isn’t it? what’s that?

no need to detail too closely what its about.

okay, it is a parenting seminar.

but i will be listening, and taking notes. i will be learning. how exciting is that!!!

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i will need a break from babyville, because the combination of physio and immunizations is enough to drain anyone. me in particular.

carys hates her physio. we are going because she has reduced flexibility in her hips, and she only tends to look one way, due to stiffness in her neck. one side of her face is flatter than the other, the muscle tone is weak on that side of her face (too tired to remember which side it is), and her wonderful PT suspects that she has cerebral palsy. (more on that later).

carys hates her physio. she looks sadly at me whenever i pull out her workout togs from the closet (leggings and a cheerful short sleeved onesie) and when we enter the building she starts sobbing. the worst exercise is usually the last one, carys is laid on a bed, with her bald little gourd hanging off the bed. the physio then gyrates my little heroine’s head about, twisting and stretching. the physio stands behind carys, and it is up to mum the torturer to stand over carys, hands holding her desperately struggling shoulders down. carys of course is screaming pitifully and tears are coursing down her pale face. we have to stop the exercise at least three times to allow carys to clear her throat and stop choking on her tears. by the end of physio i am in bits.

and then immunizations.

innocently holding one baby who is tired after waiting one hour to be seen…the nurse pulls out a needle and wham! panic registers in eyes, tears (carys) and mouth opens and screaming commences.

jasper looks like a big red tomato when he cries. where did that pain come from? i don’t understand! one minute, nothing, now this, oh this great surging searing pain in my side. oh, i am so scared and confused.

sela is probably the best of the lot, she gets angry and stops after a minute or so although she keeps her mouth in a frown in case someone leans over her to console her, in which case she might quiver out another little whine, just for effect.

and carys sobs a series of long whining sobs of sorrow. you lied to me! you promised you would never let me get hurt, and now this thin! i am sorry, but you lied! yes you did. i am bereft.

and of course, i dont get to console a baby, because the minute the bandaid is slapped on one injection site, i hand over the wailing mess and prepare to assist in the infliction of pain in another child. i am aiding and abetting, and not comforting.

but tomorrow, i will be comforted as i dust off my black boots and head off to pretend mothering(comforting/helping to heal/caring/) isn’t my full time job. wonder how long i will make it before i mention sebastian and the babies.