catch it, bin it, kill it!

So from that giant germ bomb that is private nursery the baby has taken home (or maybe even thrown in grenade like) a nasty winter bug. This week has been full of ‘loose’ (that’s nursery speak for explosive) nappies and a little bit of sick.

I remember once breast feeding on the sofa a pile of bagged nappies by the door waiting to be dropped in the outside dust bin watching a programme on house decor discuss feng shui and wondering what I was inviting into the house literally leaving bags of poo in the entrance...luck? money? happiness?

Well this week the nappies have left the house immediately...even the four year, a stink bomb on legs himself has had to leave the room and shut the door as the smiley toddler approaches seemingly unaware of the wilting house plants left in his wake.

His burps are pretty toxic too!

I’ve been a bit under the weather myself – we are a family who shares.... but, then from nowhere came the full on guerrilla germ war attack on my partner, as I write this he is spending his second night in hospital......he does have a underlying chronic illness – he is getting better, re-hydrated and rested after a very tough night beginning with an afternoon ambulance ride.........

The four year old was upset  of course that Daddy wasn’t there for bed time stories and cuddles – that’s their special boy bonding part of the day so watching ‘Glee’ snuggled under a blanket on the sofa with me and my niece wasn’t the usual end of the day for him. It seemed to have an effect, but the heartbreaking sound of that little voice crackling through the darkness making up songs,’ Daddy please get better, Daddy we all miss you, Daddy can you hear me?’ was absolutely heartbreaking. Maybe his grandparents will get their wish and he’ll be an altar boy after all....

Oh and this is love, real love I mean not the romantic kind, the nitty gritty – my partner handed me his soiled clothes including hospital issue gowns to wash – which I did and I will return to the hospital to save his embarrassment when handing back to the nurse.

Well off to watch ‘P.S. I Love You’ got to look on the bright side of being female in charge of remote and any way I don’t think I’ve cried enough this weekend yet.....

Bye bye Buga-boo-hoo-hoo!

Last weekend after a whole heap of nagging and a few failed attempts, (‘The queues were too long, darling, I had to bring it all back’, ‘ARGH!’) we finally managed to get rid of the pram that has been cluttering up the back room for months – since the youngest moved to his buggy...just to give you an idea of the nagging time needed for a task of this level he is now a competent walker!!

So I threw the kettle over the side at the tip no problem and my partner heaved the moth ridden brown and gold rug breeding ground for the delicate gold coloured fluttering insects that caused the holes in all my woolly gloves, it feels good to watch it fall!

I opened the boot to pull out the pram as I have done thousands of times before. Thousands of times supermarket, park, ‘Tiny Teds’, library, school, Grandparents house, holidays, everywhere I’ve been, thousands of times– two babies four and a half years, but now that’s it.

I couldn’t do it, I felt overwhelming loss.

No more babies! The pram was knackered even if I were going to have another baby we’d need another pram you know one with a working brake at the very least....

The man at the tip, re-directed us from general waste to metal waste which at least made it feel a bit better. It could be re-cycled used for something else, turn up again in our lives.

Maybe as part of the aeroplane one of my boys might fly, or a stethoscope they might use to save a life, or as part of a new design for metal framed building they might invent.......only kidding I just want them to grow up happy, honest!  !-)

Daddy is Brave

So last week I had a ‘day off’, my old friends now scattered around the country got together for a bit of sale shopping and a bite to eat.  I left the kids and my fella in their pyjamas – I had a bit of an unfeasibly silly strop because I couldn’t find an umbrella or bus fare and was off. Apologised for strop before I left in case something bad happened and the last words my beloved heard me speak involved swearing, tutting and general bad temperedness!

We had a good old catch up all of us talking at once and at great speed.  

In usual mum style I bought things for the rest of the family, shirt for the four year old, trousers and top for the baby, aftershave for the hubster.  Although if I’m truly honest I could have continued shopping and scoured the shops for personal bargains had it not been for that second bottle of wine calling after lunch.....how  truly decadent for my life right now – afternoon drinking and chatting – just bliss!

I’m sure the last time I managed to do that was a Sunday so long, long ago that we had to buy a plate of chips between 4 of us, to allow us to carry on because of the then licensing laws!!!

I think I may have spent a little too long questioning my mates on the practical day to day management of their lives,

‘So you drop off, childminder here, husband’s flexi hours here, ahh, doesn’t start till 9.30?’ etc.

Until I was finally told I am not the family management police and to give it a rest!

The thing is I find it so hard, so overwhelming sometimes being a working mum, I needed to know if there was some trick, some little way I had not thought of that just makes everything fall into place and run....run like clockwork that is not like a headless chicken.

Turns out there isn’t, it’s pretty tough for everyone, and the time you borrow with a ‘work from home’ here kicks you up the backside with a ‘sick childminder’ there and so on completing the clever balancing on a knife edge life and times of just about every parent.

I arrived home to find the one year old in a ‘Daddy is Brave’ T-shirt,

‘Why is he wearing that – Is it because you looked after them by yourself for a day?’ I joked.

‘Yes, yes it is’ he said with no flicker or irony, humour or amusement,

 ‘You know how hard it is!’ he accused

Yes my sweet and tired man, yes, yes I do!