Often I see quotes, memes and general spam on Facebook that I share, but this was so apt... This is me EVERYDAY!!!
So I have been very busy of late, doing nothing, I haven't had much time to blog. Some of my Facebook friends maybe shouting "HOORAY" for me it's a sad thing though, writing the debacles of my life is a welcomed break... How times have changed!
Musical beds and teeth!
The last week has been fun and games post midnight in our household, I use the phrase fun and games loosely as quite frankly it's been neither. Olly, the secret ninja has mastered the art of getting from his bed to ours, directly in between the husband and I without either of us realising until we get a foot or arm in the face. The hubby, once his head hits the pillow, falls in to the deepest of sleeps! So much so that previously he has commented how well Nancy has slept through the night when actually she's been up and fed twice. In our room. In our bed. Next it him! I on the other hand can be woken up by either babies taking a deep breath. So the bear getting from his room to ours and in to our bed without any other person (or dog) batting an eyelid blows my mind.
There's a lot of controversy surrounding children being allowed to sleep in their parents bed, whilst I couldn't co-sleep with Nancy, in fear of squashing/suffocating her, Olly at 4 isn't so bad. I don't believe there's a wrong or right answer to the situation. However, rule of thumb we try not to make a habit out of it. One of Steve's old managers once said to him... Don't be too hard on them when they want to get in your bed, they're not little for long. It won't be long before they're too grown up to want a cuddle. Too true.
Unfortunately one night last week the 2 little people and fur baby thought it would be fun to royally take the piss out if the parentals... I feel like I need a stiff drink reliving it!
Nancy is teething and it was a particularly bad night. Crying out. She'd had pain relief, teething gel, teething powders, didn't want nursing, didn't want leaving. One of those
parenting situations where you have exhausted every option possible but no idea what to
do next. After what seemed like 4567633 billion hours she finally settled. Cue Molly going mad to go outside, off goes hubs to let her out. Everyone back in bed... Sleep. In comes the bear, not so quietly. With every intention of spending the rest of the night in our bed he came with Olaf under one arm, his water bottle in his other hand and was babbling about something that had happened during the day.
Knackered, exhausted and quite frankly losing the will to live, I lifted the quilt and welcomed him in. If I was lucky I'd get about 4 hours sleep at this stage. He's off to sleep in a jiffy, so are us adults. Nice comfy bed, loving sleep... BAM hand straight in my face. Then I hear Steve... Foot in his back. So hubs (with difficulty due to Olly's mega long limbs) carries the boy back to his room. 40 minutes later he's back. Hubs returns him again.. Back he comes. Nancy wakes. Hubby admits defeat and gets in the boys bed. The boy is in our bed with me. Worst night ever.
5 days later the little lady cuts her first tooth at 5 and a half months and normality (fingers crossed) has resumed.
Supermarket Hell.
Parent & child parking. What are the limits? Does 13 and 14 years old constitute as a child? Do I count for a child at 31 years old if I'm with my mum? After all, I am her child. Or does it count for lazy twats that can't be arsed to walk a few extra feet?! As you see it's a sensitive subject for me. It fumes me to see people without kids parking in them. Shame on the parents that park in the spaces too when they are childless but have a car seat in the car.
Under normal circumstance, I don't mind parking away from the entrance and walking but when I have 2 children and it's raining I DO!!!! When you have 2 little ones you can't run to dodge the rain resulting in upset, wet soggy kiddies and a pissed off momma.
I hate shopping at the best of times but it's even more painful with 2 kids in tow and a little bit worse when it's pissing it down and you can't get a space. 1 wet momma and 2
soggy bottomed sproglets hit sainsburys.
I know I have a short window of tme to do what I need to do before chaos and madness kicks in. It's a cross between challenge Anneka and supermarket sweep (google it kids!)
Just as I think I've made it, we get to the check out. Whilst unloading, I find a quarter of the trolleys contents have not been put in by me, in fact it seems Olly had a list of his own. Nancy right on cue starts arching her back and banging her head against the seat. SWEATY UPPER LIP ALERT!!!! She starts wailing this high pitched screech, as I'm going ten to the dozen trying to pack my bags (even the cashier is helping, I think we may have perforated her ear drums) Olly the problem solver puts his hand over her mouth! What must these people be thinking. Everyone is staring. As soon as I've paid and loaded the trolley, I get her out and silence. The tears and screaming stops instantly.
Note to ones self, if you ever find yourself in a situation you don't like, scream, cry and wail until the situation changes.
(Un)Sticky situation.
As our summer sunny days are becoming numbered, I took the plunge and bought all Olly's school uniform down to wash, put on the line and iron ready for September 9th. Starting with iron in labels. Seriously, how hard can it been? Answer... Ridiculously hard.
I ordered 50 personalised labels with a little dinosaur on. I thought 50 was excessive, but that was the smallest amount. I now understand why.
Firstly, the buggars don't stay still. I lined one up on his sweater, following the instructions I covered with a tea towel and pressed. It went on horizontal, when I removed the tea towel it was on a frigging diagonal. Everyone who knows me, knows I have OCD tendencies on the appearance and presentation of my handy work when being observed by others!
I continued hoping I would improve. 2 sweaters, 4 polo shirts, 2 pair of tailored shorts, 2 pair of tailored trousers, 2 PE shorts, 2 PE tees, a pair of jogging bottoms and a hoody. Once all complete in their own unique, wonky way I washed them (as instructed)
As I got the first load out the wash (colours) I find said labels stuck to the washer drum. Clearly I've done something wrong. Good job I have spare labels.
As I empty the second load.., more of the pigging things. I like to consider myself a fairly intelligent person, but seriously... Iron on labels, what's the deal?
I have attempted round two. Failing that, I have stocked up on sharpies!!! I seriously have to up my "school mum" game...
No comments:
Post a Comment