Delusional Schizophrenia, Or, How to tell us apart.

The nature of our joint blog is that sometimes friendly visitors drop in and think Bec is Kim and Kim is Bec or perhaps that Bec and Kim are just the voices in the head of a single unknown blogger who has forgotten to take their medication.

It’s quite simple really.

Kim is the one who is about to drop baby number three, and Bec is the one who used to laugh at people with three children until she accidentally popped out babies number two and three together. I’ve been paying for that bit of carelessness ever since.

So, the delusional schizophrenia is not related to distinguishing between the Bec voice (Kill, Kill, Kill) and the Kim voice (Eat the flesh, Eat the flesh) in the unknown blogger’s head. But I’m sure Kim (who is not yet in labour, by the way) would agree we each have our own special Sybil moments.

As a Mother Of Many, or so it feels, living in a tiny wee inner city terrace house, I like to think of the myself as the Old Woman who Lives in a Shoebox. But which one am I?

Am I this one: rather jolly and colourful, albeit weary to the emaciated bone – with happy children amusing themselves merrily in all sorts of healthy pursuits and sporting many bizarre vertical hairdos…

Or, perhaps this one:

Please note the large stick in her right hand. This chick really knows her nursery rhymes. None of this politically correct ‘kissed them all soundly’ bullshit you get in soppy nursery books today. ‘Whipped’ it is written and whipped they shall be, right after their broth without any bread.

It seems to me there’s a split here that most of us can identify with: in terms of multiple personalities, we’ve all got a bit of Mother Goose and a bit of Brothers Grimm.

Which picture is you right now?

mtc

Bec