SO THIS IS HOW MY DAY WENT:
6:03: Small one awake. He gets out of bed, opens his bedroom door (he is like a sixteen-month-old Indominous Rex – never underestimate him) and starts banging against ours and squealing and whinging. Time to get up! Or at least for daddy. I drag him into bed with me in a bid to get a “lie-in”. Doesn’t work.
6:27: Small one does enormous smelly poo. All the nappies are in his bedroom, with his sleeping sister. I go in to retrieve one and wake her up. Shit.
7:46 After a shower and the daily struggle that is teeth cleaning everyone is ready to go downstairs for a fun day of waiting in for parcels.
7:59: Way too cold to eat breakfast in the kitchen or conservatory. Can’t wait until the bastard thing is knocked down. Give kids egg in the front room.
8:00: Regret this heavily. Clean floor.
8:20: Tell big one that the TV is broken, so bored am I by Mr Tumble and his ilk.
8:21: House is a tip.
House continues to get messier, small one goes for nap, big one is playing nicely. WOW. Living the dream. Have lovely cup of festive tea. Yea yea, it’s November… Big fat don’t care.
11:12: Nice cake-making lady arrives to retrieve Ariel Doll (no, not that Ariel Doll. A smaller version) for big one’s birthday cake. Her birthday is Monday. (Expect to hear about it).
11:13: Big one notices that Ariel is missing and has a shitfit. For AGES.
11:29: Small one awake.
11:45: Cleaner arrives (decadent, huh? It’s a one off. Meant to write an article to pay for it. Have not done so). We can escape the house for two hours without missing any important parcels, hurrah!
11:46: Attempt to get two children out of the house. Go to get jumpers, pack drinks and nappies, wipes and spare clothes.
11:57: Small one eats a green felt tip pen.
12:04: FINALLY get out of the house despite best Whingelets’ best efforts (seriously) with slightly green child.
12:17: Park car, and wander to Pizza Express to meet friend. Apologise for lateness.
13:10: NO WORD OF A LIE: Still waiting for kids’ meals. Four children are vocally annoyed. Rest of Pizza Express is not too happy either. Resolve NEVER TO GO THERE AGAIN.
13:30: Gobble food and RUN, pizza in hand from Pizza Express to the car and drive home like a mad person so that nice cleaning lady doesn’t refuse to ever come again.
13:47: Get home. House is nice and tidy and clean! Life is alright. Don’t want to mess up house so suggest kids play in garden. It’s fairly sunny, if a bit muddy…
13:50: Kids are bored and come into conservatory. Mud everywhere. Big one starts raiding the Ikea boxes and finds Kinetic Sand which I got for Christmas even though I hate sand with every fibre of my sensible sand-hating being.
13:59: Against my better judgement (and because I have an article to write) get out tuff tray, and sand.
|This does not truly represent the devastation|
14:00 REGRET THIS. Sand everywhere. Try to get on with article whilst kids are distributing sand everywhere including on their person hidden under their clothes. I literally have no clue.
Time passes. I write an article about private islands which makes me feel poor and inadequate and jealous. The kids play with things and make a mess.
15:28: Enough is enough. Tidy up sand.
15:56: Whilst sand is being tidied (by moi, obv), the kids a) get sand EVERYWHERE (where did it come from??) b) get out felt tips and draw on sofa (above) and small one draws himself one rather fetching Spock-style eyebrow (below).
16:35: Mess has been cleaned up. Apart from the sofa, that is forever. Wishing it was later and therefore wine was acceptable. Daddy has text, is on way home. Thank f*ck for that.
16:49: Put dinner on. Whilst doing this, big one pours little bits of paper everywhere. I ask her to pick them up, she refuses, she shouts, I shout (not proud) she cries, I cry, nothing is good.
17:13: Dinner is pretty much ready. I switch computer on to write about trials of my day. Computer goes ppppfffffft and gives up on life.
17:30: Realise I have wasted a day of my life waiting in for packages that never arrived. Screw you, MyHermes you thieving bastards. Now I have to pick something to wear to Blogfest that is old and probably doesn’t fit. Shit.
18:00ish: Daddy arrives home and saves us all from meltdown. There is a glass of wine. Cannot save computer.
20:00ish: There is more wine. I add the last few lines from my mobile and hit publish and hope that laptop can be saved or I’m gonna be veeeeery quiet for a while.