Putting the kids to bed at 9 pm tonight, after the 3 others I had been looking after for friends that are moving (too hard when there are kids in the equation, ‘why are you putting that in the box? I want to keep that out mummy, please’ endless requests like that, this and between kids getting out everything in the boxes you have boxed up and shut with a padlock (they tend to gnaw through metal bolts), out. Wanting to ‘keep it out’, makes the whole thing a mind ****…Feeling their pain, I offered to look after the kids for the day. They ate well, played well, no fights, no squeals (well, not from having done themselves a grave mischief at any rate, and that counts). So when Alex rings at 5 pm to ask ‘how’s it going?’ (he asks, safe and warm in his retreat-your absence, however, has been noted sweetheart…;)) I tell him it’s in fact, easier than 4. There were 2 brothers and Lola’s best mate, thus 4 girls. They all got on so well, that I got on and did my thing, and felt like I’d had the afternoon off! Well, afternoon free to spend washing clothes in the bath and wringing out by bare hand, then hanging out to drip dry (I’m not a Jedi, I lack the force necessary to ‘wring’ successfully…) . they left at 8.45, and I now have a silent house, at 9.30 pm…Not a bad day’s work done…now to mop the floors, and carry on my sagas tomorrow...
|Alex took this picture of me this morning...|
Well, I spoke too soon, Ezza was up till 10 pm…I have tried EVERYTHING…I now shall call upon professional help (for me). Oh well, we’ll try again tomorrow. There is always hope tomorrow….I was bent over double washing the colours today in the bath, and as I was scrubbing away with my raisin fingers, I was thinking this is all becoming really rather monotonous now, this hand washing your clothes in the bath malarkey. Well, honestly, I mean, what is the point? I’m not surprised we evolved in intelligence and washing machine parts to make washing machines, it was THE most historical natural route to go down. And having not mastered the art of wringing either, makes my cause a hopeless one. I’d have made a sh*t woman from the olden days…
|Look what you can do these days!|
Just before bed tonight, i.e. after bath time, and clean and pyjamad up, the kids hear an almighty outburst of rain, before I can throw myself at them in a rugby tackling midget’s pose, they are all out. Stripped off and finding the rain hilarious and dancing about. the ducks were near by and then Lola strolls out, trusty umbrella above her head, ever the sensible one…! I then plunge them in the sink on entry, to wash of dirt and rain (in case it’s acid, you know?) and re-jama them all. They are all fast asleep, at 9 pm, an early night by Esmie’s standards. Treats!
My other Dentist appointment went with out a hitch today. OK, you know me well enough that when I say ‘it went with out a hitch’ in my world means it occurred somehow, but noone ever knows how it was successfully achieved, if achieved at all. But in this instance it was. I showed up at 11 am today, to be met by the startled look, which I am often met with, but this time it is because this was the 3rd time I had got my appointment wrong and shown up at the wrong time. Yes I know, I know write it down. But number 1, fyi, my bag and my car and my children (and probably the chickens) eat my pens, AND any existing paper. I actually write lists on the tiles in my kitchen in a corner they can’t get to, that’s how desperate it is here! And I did, actually, write it down, but then it rained and the car has many leaks, and it was sodden. I was turned away like the fruit loop I am, and told to come back (a bit too slowly and deliberately and LOUDLY) at 3 pm. I then afterwards had several dropping in life threateningly vital ‘to be handed in exactly 30 seconds after receiving it’ paper works. I get in af ew hours later, catch a glimpse of myself to see a big line of dribble trailing down my for’ead. As if? I’d been waking round since leaving the dentist, which BTW, THANK YOU for telling me I had a little something on my face, it was a dribbly bit of the goo he used to make a mould of my next royal tooth-yes, another crown. Woooooa, scary stuff, I’m only 33!
|If you know this film 'Something about Mary'...at least it was not what she had in her hair...EEEWWWWWW|
Mitzi ate 3 portions of the lentil tomato stew I had done tonight, the mess round her plate was phenomenal, I have not as yet tackled my floors-I generally leave round one to the animals, round 2 to me, although I quite obviously do not squat on all fours, wag my arse in excitement and get licking…I mover and hop, yeah, right, as if I do that either, I hoover and mop, in the real world, that’s more sane, more OCD fulfilling. Thank you Mr Spooner…(wikipedia him here).
See you tomorrow!