I sometimes struggle to espresso myself, but the time has come to give an appreciative nod of gratitude to that which gets me through the day. Coffee, my old friend. Always there when I need you; making me a better mother, nay, a better human.
Motherhood is like a macchiato. Long, at times sweet (depending on what you add to it), and by definition, stained with milk.
For me, being a mum is without doubt the sweetest job of all but it’s still a gig that oftentimes isn’t exactly a leisurely walk in the park, thermo travel mug in hand. But if you’re lucky, there’s at the very least a Starbucks on the way there. It’s not exactly a fine artisan brew, but it will do….Because, caffeine.
Coffee always manages to give me the right answer when one of my three year old is inconsolable because her toast has bread on it. Coffee isn't one to question why (over and over and over again), coffee doesn't cry when you brush its hair. Coffee doesn't even have hair! And if it does, somebody better sort that shit out. Coffee doesn't look at you with a gleeful smugness at any opportunity it gets to say, "you were wrong mummy, you were wrong".
I have to confess, much as I love it, sometimes mum life makes me feel flat. Overheated. Bitter. Much like a badly made cappuccino. But coffee gives me a filter. When asked how I am by an unsuspecting check-out operator, coffee helps me answer perkily with "I'm good thank you, how are you?" rather than responding with how I might really feel.
Coffee stops me from saying "How am I? How does it look like I am? I accidentally used hot pink lip liner as an eyebrow pencil this morning and just left it like that because I was proud I managed to even get any make up on my face at all. My twins are systematically unfizzing the mineral water and turning the exorbitantly overpriced avocados into guacamole.