‘no Esmie, we do not put pennies up our front bottoms, it is neither sanitary nor ladylike to try and slot things into our ninnies…..’

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Sitting on the top of the stairs Lola (who should be in bed) shouts down…’muuuuuuum?’, ‘yeeeessss’, ‘isn’t tart juice not very nice?’. I honestly have no idea what she meant, and am still left a little baffled…..

Ever since I had the kids, with each one in turn it seems to me that I agreed to swallow a horse-sized dose of ugly pill. This x 4 = not a good look. With this in mind today, I decide to tackle a few personal hygiene issues- my toenails. Absolutely the last place I ever even think to look, especially in sock season. My toenails have been neglected I realise since I got dolled up for possibly the first time in a year for Rachel and Jamie Bennett’s wedding on September the 4^th of this year. At least it was this year, but still a wee moment has past, and the shocking results of neglect stare me in the face. Toenails tackled, I wonder where Esmie is (my 2 yr old) she had just been in the bath with me, and had obviously got tired of the sanitizing toenail session, and decided she had better things to do…….I call her, and finally find her with her concentrating face on, I look down to find out why……she  has found better things to do, she is busy trying to slot pennies in her front bottom…..time to intervene, I am all up for self exploration, however, it is another thing when it ventures into the potentially highly harmful realm. I take the pennies from her saying ‘no Esmie, we do not put pennies up our front bottoms, it is neither sanitary nor ladylike to try and slot things into our ninnies…..’

in fact, we struggled for ages finding the right word for girls’ bits……after Monty at 19 months noticed that his new born sister had not got the same going on in the nether region as he had. We finally settled on ‘ninny’ and that is our word….! And with 3 girls in the house, well 4 including me, 10 including various animals, a word had needed to be found.

It was beautiful today, the sun was shining, and a trip to the beach and the park proved fairly successful. There was a moment, 3 and a half minutes actually, whereupon I was panic stricken and could hardly move I was so terrified, which was not useful as I had Esmie to look for....she had wandered off the minute I had turned my back to do another headcount at the busy park, ‘1, 2,3…..sh*t’ sheer blind panic kicked in. Parks are so stressful, my heart cannot stand the pressure in busy parks, it’s too much. Next time, I will put them all in reflector jackets, numbered reflector jackets  at that. Finally I see her, after managing to move at last,  flinging myself round slides, climbing things, swingy things, bouncy things, looking in peepholes screaming ‘Esmie!’ and being greeted by scared little children’s faces, wondering what on earth this mad woman was on, and equally being ‘tssst’ by French mums for being an incompetent mother who had lost her daughter and was now just scaring people. ( I found her on the slide, so did go home with 4 kids....thank god).

Bring on tomorrow……