Apologies in advance for the ranty, whiny nature of this post. Also, apologies to any readers who are facebook friends with me and will probably have heard all this from my whiny/ranty status update.
It's not even 3PM yet and I'd had enough of the day. It all started at about 8.50am. As I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and looked at my phone to check what time it was, I was hit by the sick realisation that it was ten to nine. Ten. To. Nine. Any other day when the kids were off school, I'd be skipping and dancing round the house full of the joys of spings, singing the praises of my blessed children who let me sleep til a reasonable hour. But could the blessed children skip their 5Am routine on a day where we had nothing to do? Noooo. Of course not. It had to be on a day where they had swimming lessons, and need to leave to house at 9.30.
So. That gave me a whole 40 minutes to feed, water, wash, dress and comb 3 children, wash, dress and comb myself, feed the dog and let her outside, pack 2 swimming bags and get to the bus stop. Cue manic running round, pouring cereal into bowls, brushing hair, packing bags, feeding dog all at the same time (to quote a funny relative who I won't name, 'Do you want me to shove a broom up my backside and sweep the floor while I'm at it?'. The kids are lucky they didn't get cereal bowls full of dog food. We FINALLY made it out of the house 5 minutes late (after an outfit change for my son who had an accident...the joys of potty training).
So, once we get to the pool, I get the girls changed quickly and send them in. Now I have to entertain my son (who is too young to participate in lessons) for half an hour. Not a great problem, of course. Except he is in the MOTHER of bad moods this morning (perhaps due to the tumultuous morning we'd experienced) and was completely uncooperative. I decided to walk him to a nearby shop (he likes walking round shops, surprisingly- lots of shiny, exciting things!). On the way to the shop, I stepped in a humungous pile of dog mess, ruining my new shoes (the one day I don't wear leather shoes). My new cotton pumps are now ruined. After cleaning my feet up as best as I could, we go to collect the girls from swimming lessons. After they're dry and changed, my darling son decides he doesn't want to walk any more. Well, not only does he not want to walk, he doesn't want to do anything, except for go limp and lay on the floor, apparently. I had 2 bags of wet towels and swimsuits, a bag of stuff I bought from the shop, 2 other kids and a baby playing dead. I ended up sort of half dragging him along the floor out of the leisure centre and to the bus stop, where again, he lays on the floor refusing to move. As I'm asking him "Would you like me to leave you here, then?" (Obviously I wouldn't, but usually this prompts him to jump up saying 'No!' and follow me) my daughters teacher steps off the bus and sees me, in my unkempt state, threatening to leave my son lying on the floor playing dead, laden down with bags full of wet towels and a becrazed look in my eye. My sons replies "OK, see you later!"
So, after actually physically dragging my son onto the bus (which, of course, was absolutely packed- yay! A huge audience!) he once again lays on the floor, limbs splayed, refusing to move. Two old ladies thought it was hilarious and laughed between giving me sympathetic looks (God bless them for not judging me as a horrendous mother), but this only made him play up even more. I ended up picking him up and wedging him under my arm round his waist, much to his displeasure. I was at the point where I didn't actually give a damn about his pleasure anymore. We got off the bus at our stop, and this is how we marched home. Me with a toddler under my arm, a handbag over my shoulder, each hand full of carrier bags, and one shoe with poo on, stomping down the road, with a girl each side of me. Oh dear. I think I actually lived up to the name of crazy mother today.
After we get home, World War Three breaks out because my oldest daughter took a stick on tattoo that her younger sister had and stuck it on her own arm. Older daughter gets sent to her room, and amateur dramatics ensue ("Please, don't I deserve another chance? This is the worst day of my life! I might as well move to China because nobody would care anyway!") All because she was sent to her room.
Aaaaand now I have to clean my house from top to bottom, as we have mother in law coming for dinner tomorrow. I don't feel like cleaning now. I feel like laying on the sofa in a darkened room drinking gin straight from the bottle (I don't know why gin. I don't even like gin).
Happy thoughts, happy thoughts! *manic, tooth-bearing smile*
Crazy Mother x
Saturday, 2 April 2011
Tuesday, 29 March 2011
Hi again!
Hello there!
I haven't blogged for a year. Oops. Weird, because in real life, I have so much to say for myself. Too much, probably.
Well, we're all good. In the last few months, my eldest daughter has magically transformed from a 7 year old to a teenager (Magically=horrifically, terrifyingly, etc). Yep, she has Bieber Fever. She watches iCarly and all manner of other crap on the Disney channel. She sulks. Everything she and her friends aren't interested in is 'for babies'. Ah, what fun. I'm almost certain at her age I was still watching Rainbow and playing tea parties with teddy bears. Sometimes I wonder if this is really her, or she's just trying to keep up with her friends (for a number of weeks, she thought his name was Justin Beaver. It took every fibre of strength in my body to tell her it was actually 'Bieber'- too funny). She's also lost her 2 front teeth, which not only looks terribly cute, but gives her a lisp (which, much to her annoyance, I find utterly adorable).
Middle daughter is same as ever. Funny, grumpy, stubborn, but still a little sweetheart really. Alas, she's currently going through the toilet humour phase. She's inventing jokes related to or revolving around poo on a daily basis. I can't see her career as a stand up comedian taking off. I'm trying to steer her toward knock knock jokes (she still manages to turn it around to toilet humour though :/ ).
My son is HUGE now. The size of his 4 year old sister (who is, admittedly small for her age, but still). People are amazed that he's only 2. I think he still has a baby face, but I can sort of see their point. He reminds me of a gorilla. Not because he's hairy, but he looks like a tiny version of Mr Universe. He has really broad shoulders, skinny waist and hardly any baby fat on him. We're potty training at the moment, which means he's not worn pants for about a month. I'm concerned that he seems to be actually developing an aversion to pants (well, clothes in general, actually); stripping off at every available opportunity. Please reassure me that this is normal, and he's not going to grow up to be a nudist or a stripper (not that there's anything wrong with either, but family gatherings would be awkward for me, and 'Take your kid to work' day would be awkward for his hypothetical future kids). The potty training is going well. Better than I expected, actually (he's almost as stubborn as his older sister). Fingers crossed it continues that way!
We're decorating at the moment. This means we've stripped all the paper from the back room, having not yet decided what to replace it with. Husband and I have gotten as far as glossing all the woodwork, now we're up to the 'arguing about what to cover the walls' with phase. I will win. The kids get their stubborn streak from me.
Well, that was pretty mundane, but I've been sick, dosed up on medication and had weird sleeping patterns for three days, so I have brain fog. I'm going to start updating regularly again. I promise!
Crazy mother
I haven't blogged for a year. Oops. Weird, because in real life, I have so much to say for myself. Too much, probably.
Well, we're all good. In the last few months, my eldest daughter has magically transformed from a 7 year old to a teenager (Magically=horrifically, terrifyingly, etc). Yep, she has Bieber Fever. She watches iCarly and all manner of other crap on the Disney channel. She sulks. Everything she and her friends aren't interested in is 'for babies'. Ah, what fun. I'm almost certain at her age I was still watching Rainbow and playing tea parties with teddy bears. Sometimes I wonder if this is really her, or she's just trying to keep up with her friends (for a number of weeks, she thought his name was Justin Beaver. It took every fibre of strength in my body to tell her it was actually 'Bieber'- too funny). She's also lost her 2 front teeth, which not only looks terribly cute, but gives her a lisp (which, much to her annoyance, I find utterly adorable).
Middle daughter is same as ever. Funny, grumpy, stubborn, but still a little sweetheart really. Alas, she's currently going through the toilet humour phase. She's inventing jokes related to or revolving around poo on a daily basis. I can't see her career as a stand up comedian taking off. I'm trying to steer her toward knock knock jokes (she still manages to turn it around to toilet humour though :/ ).
My son is HUGE now. The size of his 4 year old sister (who is, admittedly small for her age, but still). People are amazed that he's only 2. I think he still has a baby face, but I can sort of see their point. He reminds me of a gorilla. Not because he's hairy, but he looks like a tiny version of Mr Universe. He has really broad shoulders, skinny waist and hardly any baby fat on him. We're potty training at the moment, which means he's not worn pants for about a month. I'm concerned that he seems to be actually developing an aversion to pants (well, clothes in general, actually); stripping off at every available opportunity. Please reassure me that this is normal, and he's not going to grow up to be a nudist or a stripper (not that there's anything wrong with either, but family gatherings would be awkward for me, and 'Take your kid to work' day would be awkward for his hypothetical future kids). The potty training is going well. Better than I expected, actually (he's almost as stubborn as his older sister). Fingers crossed it continues that way!
We're decorating at the moment. This means we've stripped all the paper from the back room, having not yet decided what to replace it with. Husband and I have gotten as far as glossing all the woodwork, now we're up to the 'arguing about what to cover the walls' with phase. I will win. The kids get their stubborn streak from me.
Well, that was pretty mundane, but I've been sick, dosed up on medication and had weird sleeping patterns for three days, so I have brain fog. I'm going to start updating regularly again. I promise!
Crazy mother
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