I’m not sure if I have mentioned in this blog, but I am a 44-year-old female with 4 children , ranging from a 6 foot 3 , man-child, 18-year-old in college, to a blonde beauty of 2 years old and two little gregarious boys of 6 and 4 in between. It is no secret that my husband and I adopted the three littles.

Growing up, I had friends in high school but never many at a time. I tended to ‘love’ one at a time. I am viciously loyal. My younger sister is 4 years younger and it seemed like too much of an age gap to hang out together at the time. No cousins around , so at an immediate disadvantage to those with big families (I was jealous of them, yes).

I did have about a hundred acquaintances at a time, but my focus was towards my friend at that time. I can talk the proverbial ‘hind legs off a donkey’ and pride myself that I can talk to most people about any subject. I know a little bit about a lot of subjects.

At my stage in life , my spread out family poses me no end of difficulty in maintaining friendships.

If I meet a lady at work or whilst at the store who seems to be around my generation, her children are already mid to late teens and when they find out I still have one in diapers who will be in a stroller on our lady lunches, they don’t call.

By the school gates I strike up conversations with some of the parents but they are about 24 years old and I could also be their mother !! That age gap doesn’t bode well for conversations outside of our children and their schoolwork and soccer game scores.

I don’t want to listen to gangster rap and hang out at their house whilst multiple other young people smoke and drink. I want sophisticated cocktails in an upscale hotel and to talk about travel and about books I have read.

I don’t want to join a mommy and me group as I have found it to be full of first time moms gooing and cooing over their first-born and talking incessantly about diapers and teething. I am so over that.

There must be many women in the same boat as me. Later babies and second blended families are the norm, or so I thought.  Hubby being away at work adds to the pressure.

I keep hoping that my new friend and I will bump into each other soon.

I relate this to trying to “pick up” women. How on earth do the men do it? I look around everywhere I go , scanning for a married female of 40 something with a large family of various ages that wants to go for drinks whilst the menfolk watch all those kids. Maybe a matching site for moms?

Lonely but surrounded by people. That’s my mating call.

The alarm goes off playing a twinkly little number to rouse me. I open one eye and remember there is no butler bringing me my morning coffee with a chocolate croissant. I have to get up, despite the urge to turn over and go back to dreamland.

I know within the next two minutes I will either see my smiling 4 and 6 year olds standing smiling, dressed from the clothes I had laid out the night before, and ready to have breakfast OR two cranky kids who refuse to come out from under the blankets. There is just no telling which it will be from day to day.

The mornings are especially hectic for me as I have 3 littles under 6 and it is no mean feat to juggle getting them out of bed, fed, and ready in about 20 minutes.

I generally throw 3 frozen waffles into the toaster and pour out 3 cups of milk whilst yelling for the oldest little to get dressed ( he is always the slowest) , the middle one to put his shoes on the correct feet (never fails, always puts them on wrongly despite daily instructions AND placing them on the floor in front of him in the right position) and trying to stop the baby running off with the afore mentioned clothing and shoes.

Even though I am organised enough to pack the lunches the night before, the backpacks are not immediately found (even though each boy has a hook for his). Finally the lunch is in the bag, the shoes have been changed around, clothing re-buttoned and off to the next hurdle….getting into the car.

Booster seats inevitably get tangled with seatbelts and cannot find the “clicky bit” of the seatbelt, there is a backpack , or shoe in the driveway as I reverse. As i look in the rear view mirror I can see 3 sticky faces looking at me. A baby wipe thrown in each’s direction and then I see myself. No make up on, wavy thick hair jetting off in all directions , jelly on my shirt and a bright red pimple on my chin. I put on sunglasses and hope I don’t bump into any of the glamamoms that somehow look like a million dollars at 7:30am . I need to get up earlier, I suppose. Nah, the sunglasses will work.

The drop off line irritates me. The concept is that you drive up in an orderly line, the child hops out and runs off to school waving happily, and the line moves on. The reality is: it is slower than molasses to move because the kids are not ready, parents chat to them , they have to find something on the car floor, the parent sits and waits to make sure they are right through the gate, gym equipment from the trunk, you get the idea.

I prompt my kids on the way to school about being a good student, polite and not to lose anything….okay when I say prompt, I mean threaten. Yes I threaten them that if they are naughty and fight or don’t do their schoolwork that there will be no treats or TV after school. A healthy approach to life I think. You have to behave to receive benefits.

By the time I arrive back home to clean up and get my cup of coffee I am frazzled.

The worst part is that this is five days a week. Roll on the holidays!