Fun Mum.

" Don't you remember when I told you motherhood was a blessing?" Alexa tried not to roll her eyes when she thought of her smother-in-law, and her phony life coaching. To Alexa, it was all routine. She had always thought parenting was easy, if not over-rated. That was before Alexa married Jeroen, in the distant days when she only had a hypothetical, invisible family. Alexa had planned to have their first baby, one and done. But Jeroen had no stoppers, somehow their contraception had failed.

Alexa was now the mother of three sons, all aged under five years old. Everyday, she felt a little bit fatter, older, and more bad-tempered. Long before all this, Alexa had visualised herself as a fun Mum, smiling and never cross, never resorting to shrieking at toddlers. She was going to be the vision of a mother-craft magazine, even planning to attend gym and aqua aerobics, to keep her boobs pert and her butt tight. These days, her loving smiles occasionally appeared like a rictus grin, under dark shadows beneath her bleary eyes.

"Alexa, look at this credit card bill. Why on earth can't you control your spending? Alexa gulped. It was time for Jeroen's monthly rat therapy over the bills. Jeroen was supposed to be managing a phone server company online, on his laptop. Unfortunately, his daily national teleconferencing had to be cancelled, as his adorable sons found all the saucepans to make dreadful noises. All at once. That was Alexa's fault too, as well as the mounting piles of dishes and bills to sort.

It was her logistical nightmare. Already, she had hurriedly dressed in yesterday's fleecy tracksuit, and had put on her cleanest dirty shirt. Each morning was hectic. Today was no different to any other. Her batcrazy offspring raided the cutlery drawer, so they could chop the tail off the cat. The feline stalked away, totally disgusted with its lifestyle.

Alexa and her sons made it to half-time. Noon. Saying she needed a shower had caused her little boys to convene their family meeting at the door of the shower, with their plastic toy blocks, painful to step on. There they had poked their tiny digits into her cellulite. Alexa had mastered having her shower in world record time. "Am I really to blame for all this?" wondered Alexa.

Lunch, dishing up her boys' favourite, canned spaghetti with toast soldiers. Just then, the cat threw up, as the front-loading washing machine overflowed. It sent waves of suds into the family room, where Alexa's boys were flinging red sauce at each other, all over the beige carpet.

Alexa's mother phoned at that certain point in time. She launched into her endless variety of catty remarks about Alexa's shortcomings. This was all accompanied by wailing by her sons. It was only another day for a fun Mum. No wonder the cat was vomiting. "NO!" yelled Alexa at her sons. So they all started shouting at her. "NO!" Lovely new word they had acquired. "NO!" Right, children are a blessing, does anyone remember some wise old motherly figure saying that? Was this a false belief? This called for problem solving.

Capably, Alexa swished the suds away through the laundry's back door, nearly drowning the aviary in the yard. That cleaned the carpet anyway. She wiped little faces and hands, hearing, "NO! NO! NO!" When was Alexa going to turn into their fun Mum?

Her mother-in-law was banging on the front door, again. "Must be positive," Alexa. Their grandma could mind the kids while Alexa could take a holiday, touring the local store in the frozen food aisle. Maybe she could hide in the store for a couple of son-free hours. Did the manager provide a comfortable bed for emergency rest times?

"NO! Grandma, NO!" The fun Mum's boys were practicing their new vocabulary. "Kids grow up too quick!' her mother-in-law commented, smiling serenely, always pumping this propaganda. Like when? Alexa decided she would look back fondly on these toddler days in years to come. She was thinking this, as she yet again unblocked the toilet, retrieving bits of games and puzzles.

All this while, Alexa was dodging the cat vomit. "Yes," thought Alexa, "three degrees coming through, the fun Mum's unblocked the loo." She was so positive. The supermarket did sell shiraz and chardonnay. It definitely took a village to breed society's children, but really needed a vineyard to raise them. "Wait until they turn into teenagers!" Jeroen spoke from the depths of his digital appliances. "Gotta love motherland!" Alexa answered. She was positive. Already exhausted, she was living the mother-craft magazine ideal.

"Your children are such a blessing!" Alexa pondered if any one would ever grow up, as she was growing old. Her waistline was a distant memory, everything sagged. She used to have time for manicures and spa centers. She wandered off for the dreaded long walk to the letterbox, for the next round of bad news. Was it all the hand of fate? Jeroen on his laptop now had company at the kitchen table, where the boys were throwing toilet rolls at their father and cat.

Alexa tried to engage them in good manners, but they spent the afternoon with grandma, while they trashed their toy boxes. The house was festooned with broken bits of toys for the boys. She picked up another catalog. Online shopping was her last remaining pleasure. It was like a cargo cult in the modern world. Buy, buy, buy. The ultimate toys would solve all these tantrums and behavior management issues. Alexa was deciding whether to get her son's an appointment with a child psychologist, but it would be too expensive. Maybe the cat might need therapy as well. Alexa dreamed of running away from home, after tomorrow's breakfast and whine o'clock from her husband.

Some hours later, the smother-in-law had left the building, leaving her grandsons pumped with sugary snacks and being spoiled. "They're beautiful," she had said, as she sailed off to her home, clean, tidy, peaceful and clean. Alexa coached her sons to get to bed and sleep. Finally,beyond tired, she collapsed into her own bed, next to Jeroen. He was snoring like a husband. Daily, constant positive motherhood was supposed to be fun. Don't you remember that bit?