My mum, who it feels like lives a gazillion miles away (she only really lives 100 miles away) said she liked last weeks round-up blog because it made her feel like she had been “part of” our week. So ma, this one is for you.
1pm. Ed finds old pocket radio of ours. Turns it on. Spends an hour playing white noise like it is music. Loudly.
5pm. Ed finds the radio I snuck off him when he wasn’t looking and hid. Plays white noise like it is music. Loudly. Again.
8pm. Give husband my Christmas list. Husband asks why new purse is not on the list. Am horrified. My Johnny Loves Rosie purse may be old and ripped, but I adore my Johnny Loves Rosie purse. I wont just throw it away because it is old. Ask husband if he will just throw me away when I am old.
He does not answer.
9.30am. Visit to a possible school for Ed. Get shown round school by two 7 year olds. Fall in love with children. Spend more time chatting to the brilliant kiddy guides rather than observing school.
12.15pm. Pick Ed up from playschool. Walk home. Ed scoots along beside me. Woman runner runs past us. Ed points and asks loudly
“Why is that man running, mummy?”
Wince. Remind Ed it is rude to point. Inside I wonder why that woman would have such a mannish hair cut.
“Mummy! Look!” says Ed as he squeezes his eyes shut tight, then feels about on his plate. He finds a grape, picks it up, opens his eyes and says
“Ta daaaaaa! I surprised myself with a grape! Cool, huh?”.
12.30pm Doorbell goes. Postman hands me parcel. Open it to find fab gift from cousins. Am happy.
1pm. Make self a cup of wee.
No, wait, sorry, green tea.
1.56pm. As a special treat we get a bus in to town. Alex starts eating a jelly tot. We didn’t bring jelly tots. Hook alien jelly tot out of his mouth. Alex takes off shoes and starts jumping on seat. Try to get him to calm down. Fail. Pretty ginger teenager gets on bus. Alex sits forward, smiles at her, points at her
“What her name?”.
He spends rest of the bus journey in to town smiling at her and sitting still. I imagine what my life will be like as a Nanny by the time I am 43 years old…
Go in to House of Fraser. Edge way over to purse display. Feel like I am cheating on my purse. Feel dirty and wrong. Shop girl scurries over. I explain my woes, bringing Johnny Loves Rosie purse out and showing her. She says, and I quote
“Well, it looks well loved“.
Carry on looking at purses.
Find a lovely super soft purple leather one. HURRAH!
It is Mulberry. Bollocks.
Bedtime. Hear through monitor both children being incredibly naughty and rude. Alex is taking mouthfulls of water and raspberry-ing it out, all over everything. Am cross. As is husband. Husband marches in from our bedroom. I emerge from bathroom with face pack. Both storm in to boys room. Ed redeems himself with an apology. Alex shrugs and carries on being naughty. Take away Alex’s bedtime bears. No reaction. Take away his silky blanket. No reaction. Husband TAKES AWAY ALEX’S PILLOW (we have nothing left to take). It is like we are enforcing prison rules. But worse. Prisoners at least keep their teddies.
8.30pm. Boys asleep. Husband looks sheepish and sad and says
“So…do you want to go in their room and give Alex a pillow, if you know, I don’t look?”.
I do just that.
9pm. Spend an hour searching online for purses I might consider as a replacement for mine. Show husband the website page for the ONE purse I might like for Christmas. Panic when he takes actual notice and looks at it. Shut site down quickly. I need to see it in it’s leathery flesh first before he mentally clocks it and buys it as a lovely Christmas surprise…
Woke up feeling pervy, but also a bit giggly. I had snogged Tom Daley. In my dream. He taught me to dive, so I had paid him in snogs. Poor Tom Daley. Although he would bloody LOVE it.
Also wake up feeling shattered. Funny how they say kids needs 12 hours sleep a night. Yet I need at least 14.
Also, for first time in 4 years as a stay at home mum, wake up to an alarm clock. Friend, who is plumber/ builder is due to arrive at 8.30am to fix leak in dining room. Explain this to boys as the reason I am shouting at them to HURRY UP AND GET DRESSED.
“Well” says Ed “If he can’t fix the leak, then we will have to get a real builder in”
Am horrified. Pray Ed does not refer to our need for a real builder in front of our friend, who is a real builder.
“Wayne is a real builder, Ed”
“No he isn’t” says Ed “He doesn’t wear a hard hat”.
8.30am. Builder friend arrives. With apprentice in tow.
8.40am. Ed has been ear wigging on builder friends conversation with apprentice.
“Colleen has checked the lounge radiator” says Ed
“Colleen??” I say “Who on earth is Colleen?!”
“His friend!” says Ed, rolling his eyes like I am thick
“Eh?” *try to think what he means* “Do you mean, er, Colin? Is his friend called Colin?”
“Yes” says Ed, again like I am thick.
I offer Colin and Wayne biscuits and tea, referring to Colin, constantly, as “Colin”.
Wayne pulls me aside. Tells me apprentices name is ALFIE.
4pm. Went to pay for shopping in Sainsbo’s. Notice credit card and Nectar card are missing. I am sad and worried. But mostly sad and worried because it means I will actually have to get rid of my Johnny Loves Rosie purse. The cards can be replaced. Purse, can not.
5pm. Ed does this
Makes me laugh.
Children push me to my absolute limit through out the day. Husband is due to go to play Squash. Nail front door shut. Stick post-it note on my forehead saying
“Please don’t leave me with the kids tonight and go to Squash”.
Turns out, husband is a mind reader and has already cancelled Squash to stay at home and cheer me up and pour me wine (diet fail).
Recieve message from Pippa at Story of Mum (awesome website I follow and recommend you do too) teling me I have won one of her competitions and am being sent a piece of original art work by ArtsyVille. Am thrilled and cheered up no end!
9.55am Was incredibly nervous. Felt shakey. Due to partake in my first “Tweet up” ever (meeting person I am online friends with in a cafe). Am not worried about meeting a stranger (public place, all fine mum) but am worried in case SHE FINDS ME DULL AND BORING AND THEN TELLS ALL OF TWITTER! Locate her in the cafe. Shook nervously a bit. Got a hug and a cup of tea. Laughed for almost 2 hours until my mascara was running.
1pm. Stared at my lunch. No one has ever said the words
“Mmmmm. Egg salad for lunch! Yummy! My fave”.
EVER. Curse stupid bloody pointless stinky salad.
1.06pm Am starving. Had handful of sunflower seeds as a snack. Curse stupid bloody pointless stinky diet.
1.30pm Watch Toy Story 3. Again. That bit where you think they are going to die a burny, melty miserable death? I cried. Again. Also for first time ever felt flash of rage at Andy for giving away his beloved toys. Heartless bastard.
Cleaned house. Spiced up cleaning by cleaning (get this), upstairs first, instead of last. Life in the crazy lane. Got immensley irritated when cleaning touch on/touch off lamp. Was like a disco in Father Christmasses bedroom (the spare room which is just a massive bed).
Doorbell rings. Postman hands me lovely bunch of flowers and chocolates! For me! Read card. Someone is saying thank you for me making them laugh with my blog (wow! I really do that?!). They also say they have dust behind their wardrobes too. Am smitten. Feel warm and fuzzy inside. Children try and grab chocolates. Shout at children. But with a smile in my heart still.
2pm. Go to the park with the kids. Feel like I am having an intense work out (thigh work on pushing round-a-bout round/ arm work pushing swing/ arm work pushing see-saw).
6pm. Turn on Radio 2 (rock and roll) for Simon Mayo’s Drive Time. Jon Bon blares out. *Rock horns*
7pm. Looked at temperature gauge on weather system. 4 degrees. Far too cold to go running. FAR to cold…