Maybe I could exchange my kids for a small monkey farm??? I am well equipped!
Saturday lunchtime, using up stale bread time, I was on eggy bread duty for hours. It seemed endless. But in this house, the kids eat as if they were locusts. The second I set the zillion pieces of eggy bread down at the table, they are marmited up and scoffed, in one fell swoop. Futile task cooking for these lot, it goes unnoticed, it is so quickly eaten. That is apart from Lola Grace (5). I have literally spent HOURS of my life waiting for Lola to finish. She is a real dreamer, always a huge smile on her face, happy with everything and every one generally, but soooooo slow when it comes to eating, but how can I be cross? It’s not deliberate; it’s just a pain, when I still have to get on with my life! Esmie, at 2, is too big for a high chair, but too little for the table, she has one of those in-between seats, but as I got it form the Brocante (France’s equivalent to second hand shops) it is missing the strap, so it is honestly like trying to train a chimpanzee at mealtimes with her. In fact I reckon that’d be simpler, they can not answer back with ‘don’t like it’, ‘want no more’….. Maybe I could exchange my kids for a small monkey farm??? I am well equipped!
I have spent the most part of this weekend, making 6 loaves of bread, cooking lots, tidying NON STOP, cleaning, washing, moaning, collating, collating, whilst trying to entertain the masses (animals and children included in that) and braving the outside only for seconds as the rain is still a pouring. Some days I really get the impression that were I to be picking up ants on a knife and placing them in half walnuts and teaching them to row, that I would have an easier task! My weekends and Wednesdays (there is no school here on a Wednesday in France), my good friend Jennie O’ Grady remarked that only a man could have made up that rule!! Are never boring.
Still in nappies at night, (noooo, not me, Esmie!) I am responsible for sloshing the rehydrated raisins, and the many, many satsuma pips (like a fruit farm in her tummy), down the loo before I wash the nappies. I have not lost it that much that I wash disposable nappies; they are the nappies that are meant to be washed. Although now, my toilet poses a problem, we are no longer able to do what normal people do and flush loo roll down the toilet, as after having to have the septic tank pumped twice already in the 6 months we have lived here, we had to take measures. It got a little much having to bundle everyone in the car for number 2 trips to the local public toilets……..We have survived the tale, even though an adaptation to our living style had to be addressed, no more loo roll down the toilet………worse things happen at sea, or so I am lead to believe. Sh*t happens, as they say!
As I am now aware of being nearly suffocated by the overwhelming smell of cat pooh, I am back in reality and off on my umpteenth cat pooh sniff out hunt of the day, Lucky me…………I should get myself sponsored for doing it……..
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