Wednesday, February 01, 2006

2006 Day *Something or other*

Husband came home last night after a week away working. "You haven't updated your blog" he remarks "I was looking forward to reading it"

Oh yeah, well here is a run down of my typical day.

7.20am Woken by the dulcet tones of little Master yelling "Mummy, I'm done" (pooing) "come and help me" (wipe my bot) Get up wiping sleepy dust out of my eye. Try to muster myself to enough wakefulness not to confuse paper and hands.

Dress young master.

Make young master's breakfast of cereal, yogurt, fruit and milk

Abandon young master at the table to feed himself (bad mummy!)

Dress self, re-organise hair into a different shaped mess and fire deodorant in general direction of arm-pits.

Rouse young miss, change (how does someone so small make SO much!!??) and dress her. Take her downstairs for breakfast.

Feed her and eat something quickly myself. If I had time to think about it, I would wonder if I were in danger of turning into a piece of toast from the volume I eat in the mornings but I haven't got the time so I don't.

Scrape the uneaten Ready Brek and yogurt from my hair. Call to son to find shoes. Call to son to put on shoes, call to son to put shoes on right feet. Call to son .... Give up calling to son and re-organise shoes myself. Retrieve the leaking water beaker from the floor and leave the house at 8.40 on the dot.

Drop little master at school. Avoid eye contact with the mad Mothers, the bad Mothers and the ones who want to spend all morning in the coffee shop.

Do a dash to the supermarket to grab *whatever* we are low on. Mostly that is bread, milk, yogurt, sanity and sleep.

Run home as little miss is starting to get restless and wants to be out of the buggy. Once home make a large cup of tea, wash up the breakfast chaos dishes and sit down with little miss for a play.

About 10.30am, begin the epic which is bottle feeding with l. miss. She has to have something to bang against her bottle whilst feeding. This week it is the phone handset.

Then the ear-pulling and eye-rubbing will start. Nap time it is. Apply grobag and soggy and away she goes.

Now my fun begins, make beds, open windows to air out the rooms. Hoover downstairs, clean downstairs loo which has began to smell of coffee lately -v. odd. Clean kitchen counters and check the state of the microwave/oven. Re-organise sofa and disinfect high chair. Then I sit down with a Check eBay for emails and sales.

About an hour and a half after going to sleep and miraculously just as I am ready to collapse in a telly-watching heap except there is nothing worth watching during the daytime, I know this because I checked once, about 3 years ago, Madame awakes. This is made obvious by the vigorous rattling of the cot bars and the calls of "Da Da Da Da DAAAAAAAAAH" She's a Daddy's girl, is it obvious?

Play with madame for 15 mins to allow her tummy to wake up and then feed her lunch. (Two courses) Clear up mess from leave for a walk

This is when I may go to a coffee shop for the sole purposes of perpetuating the myth that Mothers do nothing all day except lunch. Little miss may chew on a bread crust or piece of French bread for the sole purposes of perpetuating the myth that lunching Mothers feed their off-spring on scraps.

Then it is time to collect little master from school. The trick is to try to get another Mother to keep an eye on little miss (who is fast asleep at this stage) while I sprint down the stairs, get Jack, prevent him from running away, put his gilet on, retrieve him from the wrestling match he has got into, attempt to put his coat on, threaten to take his train set away unless he stands still and apply hat. Then rush back outside to little miss (still fast asleep) and begin the walk home.

If you are ever walking along a road and hear the following being yelled (in a firm, commanding and *barely in control* voice) it is probably me

"Little Master stop! ...... now"

"LM, do not run around that corner ..... COME BACK"

"LM, get up off the ground .... I mean it"

"LM's friend, get up off LM .... oh I can't threaten you, you're not mine"

"LM, stop at the edge ..... STOOOOOOPPPPPPPP!"

"Hold hands to cross the road .... no, my hand, not your friend's hand"

"Come out of that garden"

"Don't step in that dog-poo .... stepping in dog poo is NOT funny"

and of course; "I am going to take away your train set"

I swear to God, I am sane. I just don't sound it on the walk home from school but then nobody else does either.

We get home and the servants prepare the young master a snack of dried fruit and a cup of milk. Oh, you caught me out, all right then, I do it.

Young miss finishes off her nap in her buggy which we callously abandon in the hallway.

Play with young master which usually involves very complex re-organisation of his brio railway lines and discussions about signals, detonators, stations, towers, bridges and quarries. He does vary the theme though into musings about Thomas, Emily, diesel engines, the whereabouts of the missing Henry and troublesome trucks.

Now come downstairs, wake Lucy and offer her a bottle (epic....) Do homework with Jack. Try to convince him that I am not trying to pull a fast one when I tell him that H is H and not J. Resist the temptation to go upstairs and bang my head on the side of the bath whilst engaging Jack in front of Blue Peter (BBC1 5.00pm) so I can start the dinner for both of them.

Sit Jack at the table and Lucy in the highchair. Feed one and offer the other one the following dialogue:

"Sit up straight"
"Would you mind facing the table"
"Yes you do like vegetables, who told you you don't like vegetables?"
"Eat your vegetables or you will shrink"
"Shrink means to get smaller"
"You'll get smaller cos that's what happens to people who don't eat their veg."
"Cos it does"
"Yes you will"
"Oh for goodness' sakes just eat it"

Finish dinner, clear away dinner crockery (as much as children's plastic bowls can be considered crockery)

Run upstairs and lay out the children's pyjamas

Sit on floor and sing the theme songs to the programmes which feature in the last half hour of ceebeebies. Then the real work begins .....

As the 'goodnight' song plays, do tidy up time. This is where we transfer the pile of toys on the floor to a pile against the wall.

Run upstairs and run a bath

Then I carry one child upstairs and coerce (threaten) the other into following. Undress the small one and realise the big one has abandoned undressing himself and is now playing brio. One threat later (you guessed it) and he is in the bath looking very pleased with himself.

Wash both, coo over nud-cuds (nude bathtime cuddles), try to stop the master from drowning the miss, try to stop the miss from scrabbling out her brother's eye. Scoop the wee one out and keep the big one singing so I know he is ok as I put on her jammies and grobag.

Place the wee one in the playpen to stop her from doing a base crawl down the stairs. Scoop the big one out of the bath and into his PJs. Once this is completed, he starts bouncing on my bed to the throaty giggles of his baby sister.

Run downstairs and make up the bedtime bottles. Moo-milk for him and formula for her. Run upstairs and hope the children are where I left them, or at least in the rough vicinity of ....

Plonk children on my bed, bottles in hand and read Lucy's story. Finish story and plonk Lucy in the arms (paws) of Soggy and hopefully Morpheus.

Encourage Jack to go to the toilet, nail his foot to the floor, tie his hands behind his back, clamp his mouth open with a medieval instrument of torture and brush his teeth. Well, I don't but only because I haven't got a medieval instrument of torture although no-one could blame me if that is what I did. He HATES having his teeth brushed.

Get Jack into bed, read him a story and begin our bedtime hugging ritual of "a squash and a squeeze, a kiss and a cuddle, a pat and a stroke, a snuggle and a poke" I normally sneak in an extra kiss.

Come downstairs, load the clothes washing machine. Pointedly ignore the crockery washing up pile. Watch Eastenders and drink tea.

Do washing up,
fold clothes out of the dryer
load up dryer again
load up washing machine again
empty bins
load recyclables into recycle bin

Check eBay for sales and emails.
Respond to emails and get parcels ready for posting

Collapse into bed about 11.00, complete Saduko puzzle to help get me sleepy.

Think something rude about husband who wonders why I have not the time to update blog.

Fall asleep.


Husband said...

I am reminded again how beatifully you write love :-)

ElizaF said...

Stop stalking me you nutter ..... oh hello darling :)