Super mum to failure, all at the same time

When I was in primary school, I did ballet. My mum picked me up after school. I’d pull on my blue leotard and tie the ribbon on my ballet slippers carefully over white tights. The classes were hot. And I was rubbish. The other girls split their legs apart and sprang high on nimble feet. I stomped and assembled a move sitting somewhere between a plie and pirouette. When the parts were cast for the end-of-year performance, my mum asked excitedly what I got. ‘‘A turnip,’’ I said.

So began and ended my dance career. During secondary school, I played netball and basketball, a little cricket, and took part in school musicals every year. I thought I was busy. Turns out there’s a lot more you can do.

When I went for my Rhodes Scholarship interview, my high grades failed to compare to high grades, plus three languages, 8th-grade piano, sporting prowess and part time work at Rape Crisis.

Perhaps it was that interview that made me arrange a catalogue of sports and other extra-curricular activities for my oldest son Oli. At 9 months, I trudged him along to Baby Rhythm, at 3 he was in swimming and gymnastics, at 4 he joined a football club and did karate.

It was a struggle to get him to classes on time. Or to convince him to climb down from the tree to play football with the rest of the team. While many of his mates were thriving in sports academies, music lessons, acting classes and more, Oli looked at me like I was punishing him. The Joneses were living next door – but Oli wasn’t interested.

Wayne’s illness made it all stop. Oli led baby Jasper’s gymnastics and outings were limited to the beach, park or a hospital ward. In the two years after Wayne’s death, I held onto the space without planned activities, the moments between work calls or deadlines when the boys and I could go somewhere – or not – as we pleased.

This week I’ve juggled the three kids’ mash-up of jiu-jitsu, water polo, drum lessons, swimming club, a triathlon and my own training runs a week out from my first marathon, with that little thing called work, feeling like a super mum and failure all at once. I’m tired and the weekend has disappeared before it began.

Somewhere out there is the right balance of extra-curricular fun and the real work that pays the bills or gets said kids on the path to paying their own bills, but today feels like a glitch. Today, the Joneses are bearing down with the latest road bikes and their kids being head-hunted for the top teams. Tomorrow is jiu-jitsu.