Monday, 26 September 2011

Posh was WELL up for it, mouth straight in, whereas Beaks is more reserved and prefers nibbling delicately...


Today I drop kids off one by one, keeping Monty in the car (he has got tummy ache, so off to the doc’s to see if it is something or nothing…I cross my friend and as we are stood there chatting, I see another mummy friend drive by, I wave gaily, ready to slap on the bonnet to laugh and joke with her merrily in the ‘look how sane and on form I am with 4 kids doing the school run in the morning too' , with my kids walking in, one wearing back to front trousers AND t-shirt, one we had forgotten the shoes and another in a t-shirt, it was 13 degrees, not warm enough togs. The other in flip flops (NOT allowed at school), finishing his homework in the back of the car. She drives on by, looking haughty, then I realise, she is looking at me in this way as she has no idea what the f*** just happened, she doesn’t even know who the f*** I am either, and yet I insist on smiling and waving gaily away, ready to slap the bonnet. ‘oh’ I remark to my friend as I realise, ‘I didn’t know her at all actually…’

Good start to the day, but I decided to plough on, although the odds were against me. I have had headaches on and off (like eyes about to pop ones) for the last few weeks, and I had another today. The trip to the Dr’s was for Monty and his hard sore tummy. The Dr prods and pokes, taps and jerks, as only (thankfully not everywhere you go are you subject to this, quick health check before entering the supermarket security dudes/dudettes…Who knows though? In future?) So, as I was saying, as only Drs do. The sum up reveals it’s constipation. Wow that’s a long word, and a proper gross word too. CONSTIPATION. Eeewwwwww nasty. Anyway, my poor boy, I blame it on the school Cantine, I am NOT guilty, for once! He is prescribed a ‘flush it right on out of there’ type medicine. Informing me to give him 3 sachets before bed. This I dutifully do. 20 minutes later, Monty runs down the stairs doubled up holding his little bottom, going ‘oh mum, you know what medicine you gave me?’ ‘Erm, yep?’ ‘Well, I think it’s working!’, and sprints off to the loo. Well, thank god he made it to the loo. And there’s now no more CONSTIPATION problems, I am pleased to report.


Although talking of poo, my new ducklings are reeking havoc. I am back into the ‘borderline OCD mopping’ bracket again. I admit, but admission is the first step to acceptance and resolution no? ‘Hi, my name’s Tamsyn, and I AM a mopaholic’ followed by whoops and cheers and gentle, empathetic pats on the back and ‘supportive’ squeezing of limbs you never even knew existed. Anyway, I do feel justified, as they think they have free range of the garden, the garage AND the house and bedrooms. Ducks poo, like A LOT. And it’s being trailed around by four little feet (and 2 big pairs, mine and Alex’s, although Lola’s not far off my shoe size! Which frequently occurs too, and even after cleaning thoroughly the ‘stamped in s*** again’ bit, spending the ENTIRE rest of the day looking for where the smell of chicken/duck poo is coming from, and realising it’s you) so mopping IS essential. Oh alright, keep them out the house, but you know what, they are too cute! In fact, I went to feed them out of my hands tonight, Posh was WELL up for it, mouth straight in, whereas Beaks is more reserved and prefers nibbling delicately…I’ll train them, you watch. 

It's because my ducks are THIS gorgeous...SO alike, it's the feather colour and the beaks that do it..

Right I am off, I have to prepare for school runs tomorrow, and prepare thoughts for Mitzi’s 5th birthday, some kind of pretty hearty style cake she wants, her birthday’s Tuesday and my in-laws are here for it.

Have a good day, see you tomorrow,

Tamsyn x *flies around the house on her mop-stick weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, realises using feet to pedal along floor does not constitute flying, publicly humiliates herself*

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