Today I had a day to myself (first one in about a million years). Did nothing of great excitement, got my toes painted, read my book in a coffee shop bought a few clothes. But it was nice to do nothing.
BACK TO REALITY
Fetched kids from childminder. 45 min drive home as we're staying with friends due to house being flooded.
Got home and had to make supper. While making supper, DS1 whinged non-stop hanging onto my trousers (age 3.5). Meanwhile DS2 (aged 23 months) is very quiet.
Go find small devil child. He had taken every bit of my make up out of my make up bag and had obliterated 3 lipsticks by painting himself with them and then smearing them all over the carpet/bedding etc. Remember, we're staying at a friend's house while they're away. While cleaning him and the mess up, he disappears. I look for him - he's pissed on the other bedroom floor. (he is potty trained - just)
While cleaning that up, the two of them get into some toys that they're not supposed to be in and make an enormous mess.
Finally get dinner done and served to much whinging/screaming/wanting to be on laps/wanting dummy/wanting a red bowl rather than blue etc
I meanwhile am tidying up all the videos they have pulled out of their boxes, remaking both beds as both wet them last night and trying to generally clear away the bomb site that seems to have developed out of nowhere.
Bathtime - with much yelling because they don't want to - DS1 has a splinter in hand and needs it removed but won't let me remove it. Cue more screaming.
Teeth cleaning time - DS1 refuses to let me clean his teeth and he's not doing it himself. So after several warnings of no story if teeth aren't cleaned, he refuses on final warning so I put his toothbrush away and say: no story. At which point he dives out of the bath to get his toothbrush, skids on the tiles and smashes his cheeks into the floor. Immediate huge lump develops. More screaming (the first time for good bloody reason).
Then try to get a cold compress onto it. More screaming. To cut an already very long story short, I finally got them both upstairs, dried, dressed, final pees out of the way, into bed and I have retired with a glass of wine.
They are still yelling for me and I am now ignoring.
My relaxing day is now just a distant memory.
Anybody want two small boys?
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Holy hell,
8 replies
JoshandJamie · 23/08/2007 19:54
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