Let’s face it, as much as we try to look like we’ve got it together, there are always those days which bring us back to reality. Yesterday was one of those days for me. It all started at 1am when my son decided he wouldn’t sleep for more than two hours in a row and it was all downhill from then.
It’s 7am. Our day is looking up already. 7am is considered a sleep in. My daughter wakes up – wailing. She’s wet the bed. Seeing his sister has fixed her wet, pee-covered self to my left leg, my son suddenly decides he needs to be surgically attached to my other leg. Nice? Right? So imagine me, trying to tear sheets off a bed, with a child hugging each leg. Oh, and don’t forget each child is
crying screaming. Where is my husband? Working in Sydney. Yes, that’s right, because these days always happen when you’re doing it alone.
So I managed to get sheets into the wash, get the children and myself dressed. Hey, I even managed to put some make-up on. The day is seriously looking better! Wrong.
No toothpaste. Ran out of toddler Panadol. My son is screaming because his ears hurt (both are on the end of middle-ear infections). I manage to strap them in the car with toast in their hands (because now we are running late). While the kids are shoving food in their mouths (content for now) I madly hang the sheets out.
Roadworks… great. Then I get stuck behind a cattle truck on a single lane road. We are too late for my son’s swimming lesson as we are now over an hour late.
Leave them at childcare. Phew. Call doctor to arrange a follow-up appointment as I wasn’t happy with my daughter’s coughing through the night. I can only get an appointment for 5:45pm. Bam smack in the middle of dinner time. Shit. Cardinal rule of parenting – don’t screw with feeding times. No choice. Book it in.
Next few hours uneventful. Probably because I don’t have children with me. Wisely I cram in a remedial massage. (Please note that I have only ever had four massages in my entire life)
Collect children. My daughter is wearing an assortment of clothes. Some of which are what I dressed her in that morning, others are from her emergency stash. Teacher walks over to explain that when they made slime, my daughter thought it would be fun to bath in it… they kindly washed her clothes. She dressed herself. Obviously. Later I discovered she has swapped underpants with another child. Again, she dressed herself. Obviously. Note to self, label her underpants with her name to try and avoid this happening again. Eww. I’m not even going to contemplate how underpants were swapped. Gross.
Collect my son from his room. He promptly reattaches himself to my right side. I smile reflecting on how the masseur couldn’t work out why the muscles in my right arm were so much more tense than the left… The thirteen kilos that I’m currently carrying on my right side, all day, might help explain that.
I decide to surprise my children with the revelation that we are going to McDonalds for dinner (it is the only place I know near the doctors that is guaranteed to serve dinner at 5pm). My daughter starts crying. She has chosen today to decide she no longer likes eating McDonalds. Seriously?
We make it through McDonalds, followed by a somewhat uneventful walk to the doctors. At said doctors my son does one of those number 2s that manages to find it’s way into every crack and crevice of his rear end and even squeezes out the sides of his nappy. Oh joy. I love cleaning those nappies. Especially when we’re out…
Daughter is promised a lollypop if she lets the doctor examine her. Examination is therefore uneventful. Perfectly compliant daughter. All is looking up. Doctor realises she has run out of lollypops. Cue tantrum. Scripts written for both children, amidst wails from both children. Son has no clue why he’s crying – he’s just copying his sister.
Ten minutes to make it to chemist before they close. I placate both children by telling them I will find them a treat, since they managed to hold it together for the doctor (and to be fair, they had been promised a lollypop).
Make it to the chemist. Got medicine. Run across to Woolworths. Grab random packet of no artificial blah blah blah lollies. Get in car. Drive over an hour home.
Get home. Both children are asleep. How do I get both children into their beds? What happens if I take one child and they wake up when I transfer them? I can’t stay to settle them because I won’t know if the other child has woken up in the car… Hmm… Figure I’ve had a remedial massage so I can carry both children at the same time.
Channeling inner She-Ra, I carry both children into their bedroom…. only to find there aren’t any sheets on my daughter’s bed. That’s right, they’re hanging on the line. Change son and get him into his cot without waking him. Score. Lay daughter on spare bed while I get her sheets. Shit. Sheets are still wet. All spare sheets are at their pre-school for their nap times… Layer her bed with sheets from my bed (incase of another accident) and put my quilt over her. What will I sleep with? I’ll figure that out later. Right now there is a wine bottle with my name on it. You probably need a bottle too, after reading all of that.
This week I’ve link up with Essentially Jess for I Blog on Tuesdays. Make sure you check out her blog post on her holiday to the Gold Coast (which has given her pause for thought) and all the other great blogs that link up as well.