Not one of the brightest, or most successful of ideas I have had to date. I am talking about inviting 2 of Lola’s friends for a sleep over the night before her birthday…they are still up, it’s 10 to 10, and I am knackered, big fat knackered. GO TO SLEEEEPPPP!!!!!! There’s nothing but a baked potato for Alex and me for tea, as I was not even able to cook, it was all I could do to find time to hoy a potato in the oven. So a baked potato it is. It’s ended up in tears…and it still goes on, they’re all in front of me now, unable to pronounce my name, I am now known as Tamzoom. Well, it’s better than s*** face, so I am not complaining. We are off inforce now upstairs. Alex has just arrived home, and as his absence has BEEN noted, I’ll tell you his excuse in a moment…Right, I am back, Alex’s ‘firm’ voice did the trick! Well, for a bit…I wish I had a man’s voice-so much more authoratitive, not like mine, I sound like a dwarf who has respondedly remarkably badly to steroid treatments when I try and do ‘man stern voice’. OK, Alex’s excuse, he tells me, as I fly out the door again, late, at 4 this afternoon, ‘oh, I am going out now honey, I won’t be back till late. Good luck with the sleep over…!’ And with that, he is gone, in a whirlwind. He has in fact, saved all his chores up for the end of the day. He also informed me earlier there were ‘important things I can’t get out of tomorrow’, they would be starting at 6 am too…yeah yeah, see ya!!
|Lola and her 2 best friends, they've been best mates since they were 3...Now they're all 6, that's half their lifetime they've been best buds!! Well cute...|
So I was all alone to fend off the masses of kids *note to self, never, ever have 6 kids. 5 is fine, but 6 moves into the realms of child takeover, well, 1 does to be fair, but that’s just my experience! Oh no, I have not yet put the chickens and ducks to bed *boos self*. Because now it means I have the evening Olympics ahead of me, flying around the garden, sprinting like a maniac herding the poultry to bed. Sporadically failing a rugby tackle hither and thither, sending ostriches and cute ducks flapping violently off going ‘ner ner ner ner ner’ and blowing raspberries…Everyone takes the p*ss out of me in this house.
Monty is very old fashioned bless him, earlier this evening, he requested one of Lola’s friends if she would 'mind not swearing’, it ‘offends’ him, apparently! He was in tears at one point too, as there were so many scary girls, all trying to kiss him…It's late now, and Alex has just nearly passed out blowing out balloons, getting ready for Lola’s birthday tomorrow (Saturday). Me, well I was there, wrapping like a trooper, wrapping presents till I passed out, we started at 11.30 pm…
|Lola with Daddy, on her new birthday bike...|
On Saturday evening, finally, at 6.30pm, I pull in to my drive. I had partied all morning from 5am, yes, that was getting up time after the 11 o’clock finally everyone’s asleep (ish) I was so relieved to be back too. Party time all morning, making things, drawing, painting, hair, nails, dressing up, babies. All girly girly things, indoor activities, it weed it down. Thank you God. *waggles fist angrily at sky*. I cook dinner, turn round to a crying Esmie, who takes my hand and informs me she has just shoved a tree bud thing up her snoz. Superb. So now, we are off to A and E, at 7 pm on a Saturday night, and a sneezy toddler. The doctor had walked in, finally, and I stood up, to realise I had stepped into GIANT world. I was the giant, for the first time nearly ever in my life I was Giant. She was hands down, the smallest woman in the whole wide world. But to give her her due, she got it out!! It was extracted…. 2 ½ hrs later, we’re clear. They attempted to hoover it out, pincer it out and slosh it out. To no avail, and a by then we had a hysterical toddler, they informed me they need to call the resident ENT specialist. She’d give it one more go. Thank god , she succeeded! Whey hey! We can go home. 10 o’clock. Not too bad…Hmmmmmm.
|This was the offending article. Well done Ez.|
I give up. I have literally spent the last half hour trying to get Mickey and Minnie (wish the kids had liked posh and Beaks, such cooler names…) to bed (the ducks, for those who are not up to date). I am bright red, puffing, probably sweating, although I am too wet to notice as I had to wade through their little pond to try and get at them, to fall into a bush of stinging nettles, which OMG that f*****g stings, FYI, to end up prodding them with a large stick through the bush to get them back into the garden and in the direction of the garage. I thought I could out run them, but they have cottoned on to the fact that there is safety beneath the caravan. Millions of weapons of mass chicken and duck and cat evacuations lie strewn across the ground. Too small to fit anything but a small child, but this is adult world. Hard core out-running, rugby tackling falling in steams and nettle bushes to get at poultry and the like unadulterated adult world.
|Dad giving 'now, stay in sight, do not run off where we can't see you' instructions to the troops...|
So, Sunday night, and we had a gorgeous calm, hot, swimming pool in the garden, watering the veg, going for bike rides and a dog walk day. Eveyone’s sparko, and I am going to have myself a well earned bath. Night all! See you tomorrow,