Well it’s official. The summer holidays are very nearly over. Whilst it has been fun (on occasions), I am ready to get to grips with our new routine. A routine that will involve three drop offs and pick ups at different locations and, at differing times. I’m almost certain I will forget to collect one of them at some stage!
Eldest is back to school on Wednesday and is not one bit happy about the prospect. ‘Are you excited to head back to school this week?’ I enquired of him the other day. ‘Of course not, school is boring and I hate it’. P2 bodes well. I have enjoyed spending time alone with him though have found it difficult to keep him entertained at times. I resorted to arranging play date after play date just so he had company. What I’ve learnt is, play dates with five year old’s are stressful. One minute they are playing nicely and the next they have monumentally fallen out over something stupid like a tv programme. ‘But when I’m at his house he just watches whatever he likes so now he’s at mine, I’m going to watch what I want’. Yeah, that’s not how it works son. I realised, probably later than I should have, that it was best to take them out somewhere and away from the house.
We’ve visited lots of fun, local places this summer. Notably, Hillsborough Castle for a tour, a week in Ballycastle exploring/swimming/non swimming and yesterday we went to the Shoreline Festival. All was going so well until eldest pleaded to go on the bumper cars. One minute in and he was crying profusely. All I could do was yell in a panic (baby on hip) for him to get to the side as I had no way of getting to him through the throng of cars. He had badly hurt himself and was frightened when people kept bumping into him. Once the ordeal was over, he was reflective in a way that only eldest can be. ‘Those adults should not be allowed on the bumper cars mum. It’s like they’ve spent their whole lives going on bumper cars and still crash into kids. Which isn’t fair as for some kids it’s only their first time on one and it’s scary. I don’t think it’s fair or thoughtful of them’. In his defense I do this when on bumper cars too. The kids are much more fun to bump into and sure, it’s only a laugh. But, point taken on board son.
Middle’s last day of his private nursery is Wednesday before taking up his free pre school place next Monday. I feel all emotional about it as he has come on leaps and bounds at it and I am worried about how he will deal with the transition to a new nursery. As you all know he does not lack personality and is also in pocession of a rather rude vocabulary. I am just praying he avoids using it for the first few weeks at least. ‘hello poo face’, ‘I hate girls ‘ and ‘you stupid’ will not a good impression make! He has also spent most of the summer randomly falling out of his bed each night. I don’t know why this is happening as nothing about his bed has changed. We all just wait for the thud now, roll our eyes and run upstairs to reposition him.
Most of all, this summer will be remembered for baby finally walking. Something that I longed for and worried about only to realise what a fool I had been. My life is now more chaotic as he danders off slowly then makes an absolute break for it running at surprising speed. For the first time with any of them, I am going to have to purchase some reins as he just cannot be trusted. He has also started to say ‘hello poo poo’ this week too. Which will further add to my embarrassment when in contact with fellow humans.
After writing all of this, I’m thinking getting rid of them for half a day everyday will be a good thing. The summer holidays were good whilst they lasted but, the fun and games are over. See ya kiddos!
** I am still working on the podcast idea and learning what I have to do. I also have to somehow get my sister free to do it**
Are the school holidays over yet? Seriously, how long have they been going on for? I feel like they’ve been ongoing for decades now. I am starting to lose the will to live on all fronts. The only part of me not wishing them to be over is the dreaded cost of the school uniform shop. I have yet to pluck up the courage to undertake it. I really must do that as I have two sets to purchase this year. Maybe next week eh?
Eldest is driving me bonkers trying to keep him entertained over the whole summer. He hates soft play now as, ‘it’s for babies and boring’. Fantastic, considering most of the summer has been a complete wash out. To remedy this, I have been arranging play date after play date. Each play date has descended into utter chaos however due to bloody Pokémon cards. At one stage he tried to swap ALL his cards (200) for ONE card his friend had. Um, hello? I am the one who’s bought them all, I don’t think so! When we got invited to a beautiful day out at Hillsborough Castle on Tuesday (the Queen’s residence whilst staying in Northern Ireland) and, I was explaining to him all the activities we would partake in, he responded ‘this is just a way to expel my energy. Like, that’s what adults do. Just try and expel kid’s energy’. How does he even know the word ‘expel’ at five? Also, how does he get that that is in fact what we do? In the end he had the best day ever, as I expected he would. I highly recommend bringing your kid’s there during the rest of the summer holidays. The scenery was vast and breath takingly beautiful and the tour of the castle itself was so interesting. Goss: The Queen’s living room smelt of stale smoke. So maybe she likes the odd cigar whilst lounging on her sofa when she’s over here. I can see her now in her dressing gown, watching Gogglebox and puffing away! **Don’t sue me Liz**
In other news, Middle’s behaviour is becoming worse by the day! He seems to be so well behaved in nursery yet his behaviour is utterly appalling when home. No amount of naughty step is working. He seems to get a kick out of any punishment, laughing in response to me losing my sh#t. He is also up half the night nearly every night. I’m exhausted and have come to the conclusion that it’s an attention thing. Yet I am unsure what to do as all them get equal attention. I maybe need to spend a day with just myself and him, make him feel special? I also have to try and get him to stop calling people ‘poo poo face’, telling people ‘mummy pees everywhere’ (no, that’s all you son) and stripping in the garden and trying to expose his winky to all and sundry. He cannot be left unsupervised for even a second. But, he is too young to end up on any kind of register. For that, we can only be thankful. Hopefully he adjusts ok with the change in nursery come September. I pray that it won’t serve to make him even more cray cray.
Baby is walking completely now. You all know how worried I was about how long it was taking. But, he has gone from 0 -100 the minute he knew he could do it. He danders from room to room now causing utter carnage. This week, unbeknownst to me, he turned the washing machine off. He also turned the oven down two days in a row, thus resulting in our dinner not being ready on time. Arrggh! The stairs are his new playground now as he has realised he can get up and down them with ease. Much to the detriment of my nerves! I brought him to the park yesterday, without him having a nap, and he went absolutely mad climbing up everything and going up and down the slide like he had been doing it his whole life. I honestly thought he would be my easiest one when really I am beginning to realise that he may be the worst. Because, he is watching both of them and emulating their behaviour (the good but, mostly the bad). So, forget the naughty step (it clearly doesn’t work) and forget reward charts (they only work for a short period of time), this Mama needs to come up with a new plan. Do military boot camps exist for kids? Please summer holidays, will you just be over already?!!
I have never felt more nervous in my life having to break the news to eldest that Molly was no longer here. Knowing that with a few words, I would send his world crashing down. That, for the first time, nothing I would say or do would make it better for him. I couldn’t bring Molly back for him, nor myself.
We sat at the kitchen table, after the others were in bed, and I broke the news to him. ‘Molly was very sick and the vet’s could no longer help her. She’s passed away and is now in heaven’. He looked confused. ‘What does passed away mean?’ he enquired. Arrgggh I was trying to get out of saying the ‘d’ word. ‘It means she died son’ I replied in between sobs. He looked at the floor and calmly asked what she died from. I had decided the best and most simplistic way, was to say her heart just gave out. ‘Her heart just stopped working son’ I said whilst cuddling him. ‘She had a heart attack and is now no longer in any pain’. At this, he started scratching his head. ‘Are you ok Aden?’ I asked. This was going much better than I ever imagined. ‘You had a heart attack that day in the vets when they told you the price of the vet’s bill and you were ok’ he ventured. Oh sh*t! ‘Um, that was just a turn of phrase son, I didn’t literally have a heart attack but unfortunately Molly did’. This is when things changed. He dissolved into floods of tears and refused to even let me console him. I have never felt more terrible in my life to see him so utterly heartbroken. He cried for nearly an hour. ‘Molly wouldn’t want you to be sad, let’s talk about some good memories we have of Molly instead’ I offered.
We then discussed the varying humorous things she had done over the years and he calmed down considerably. Phew. ‘Can I get a new dog for my birthday?’ he asked once the tears had subsided. Um, no!
The next day was Middle’s turn. The second he awoke, I was straight in to tell him before eldest could break the news in an insensitive manner. ‘Owen, I have something to tell you’ I said. ‘Ok, what you want say?’ he responded. ‘This is very sad for mummy to have to tell you but, Molly has died. She was just too sick’. I looked at him for any sign of emotion. None. ‘That’s ok’ he finally said. ‘Me go to do huge poo now!’. Off he sauntered, zero f’s given as usual.
Now Molly’s ashes have been returned, it’s restarted the grieving process. Eldest will not let me bury her at all! He has been attached to the box and wants to bring her everywhere with him. At first I thought it was so sweet and loving and, it made me happy to see them reunited again. But, I have to draw the line when, the other day, Molly accompanied us to the pound shop, all around the town centre and also the barbers. I watched eldest get his hair cut mortified whilst the poor barber kept glancing down at the little box resting on his lap nervously. Did he know it was a pet? Did he think he was lugging a relative around? Who knows! I also had to beg him not to bring her into Burger King! Imagine. Middle is handling her being back home much differently. On the day she returned, as my nephew came in the door to visit us, he brazenly walked up to him and stated ‘Callum, you will never see Molly ever ever again. Molly is dead’. When asked to say something nice about her whilst we all said a few words, he responded by turning around, putting his bum in my face and blowing a raspberry. To be fair to him it dispersed the sadness we all felt. Only middle!
Eldest has officially completed primary one! Not only that but, he managed to do so without getting spotted battering another classmate. Hooray! On his last day he came bounding out with his school report in hand. I glared at the envelope for a long time before finally plucking up the courage to open it. When I did I was pleasantly surprised. It declared that he was good with numeracy and logic (no surprise there), that his reading and writing could do with some improvement and thus, he will need support going forward (no surprise with that one either) and that he interacts well with other children, especially boys (defo not a huge surprise). As a treat for a year well done, we decided to go to Ballycastle and stay in a caravan (my idea of hell). But, it was cheap and close. Plus, it would take everyone’s mind of losing Molly.
I don’t know what I was expecting but I was shocked when we got to the caravan and it was actually spacious and modern. I had an image of one ingrained in my mind from a Father Ted episode. You know that one were Graham Norton keeps river dancing all the time in a caravan you couldn’t swing a cat in? The site also had an indoor pool and kid’s disco running every other night. Who need’s Spain eh?
Having left our things off, I took the boys swimming. This was the first time since the utter madness that was the local pool: (https://youandmeplusthree.uk/2018/04/25/the-nightmare-that-was-going-swimming-alone-with-the-boys/ ). Eldest gets in no bother and heads straight for the huge slide, without the slightest hint of fear. Middle leaves the changing room and swiftly declares that he will not be getting in the water as ‘it’s too scary’. Great! Maybe I will have more luck with baby. Upon entering the water with him on my hip, he screams blue murder. To the point everyone was looking at me like I was forcing him into a pool of acid. The swimming attendant goes to get him a swim seat. This seems to make things worse. Middle has not left the steps during this whole episode and is sitting crossed armed, dipping his feet in. ‘Come in Owen!’ I shout whilst wielding gurning baby in a huge, yellow float. ‘I not’ he staunchly responds. FML- what is the point? After 30 mins, baby was still crying and middle was still rooted to the same spot so, out we all had to go.
Next we tried the park which was covered in sand. Middle runs off to have fun, yelling at random children ‘what your name is?’ and chasing girls with his standard sex pest line of ‘Hi girls!’. Eldest refuses to go in however, as apparently, he ‘hates sandy parks’. It’s only day one and I have already lost the will to live. How do you please them all at once? Hope that maybe the kid’s disco will be something everyone enjoys.
Get to kid’s disco with eldest moaning profusely that he ‘will not dance as that’s stupid and only girls do it’. Tell him that’s fine then, he can just watch. The guy running it is aptly named ‘Rob the Beard’. He seems to have a great way with all the kids but, baby is having none of Rob nor his beard and proceeds to cry anytime he even glances in his direction. Not even an offer of a sweet quells his fear of poor Rob. He spends the whole proceedings sobbing. Middle gets up and follows all Rob’s moves to every song. Giving it stacks and living his best life. Eldest observes his enthusiasm and decides to join in. Ten minutes in and eldest is throwing shapes I didn’t even know he had in him. He is also having, shock horror, FUN! Two out of three isn’t bad I guess.
All in all, the boys had such a great time in Ballycastle. Visiting farms, parks, eating the infamous ‘cloud’ ice cream and torturing girls. Middle eventually embraced the water on the last day and ventured further than the steps! Baby I couldn’t win over swimming wise but, he did start fully walking. I only saw him Gollum crawl a handful of times when he was tired and being lazy. In the end eldest finally came around to the sand also. The only downside was the boy’s sharing a room. Utter bedlam each night and routines all over the place. I am home more knackered than when I left! Aw well, it’s all about the memories and replacing the bad one for them that happened last Monday. I hope it’s worked. I am still crying every time I see anything white, sheep included. Miss you Molly x
In advance of Monday, after something amazing happened last week and plans had to change, I am posting this now. I know come Monday that I won’t want to face this nor be reminded.
Today we lost the only other girl in our family. A girl that has been by my side for nearly fourteen years now. A girl that made singledom bearable for me (even when she was having more sex than me, what with all the pillows she was humping!).
I will never forget the day I went to pick you up. I had been very thorough in my research. Every article said ‘look out for the puppy that has the most confidence as they are the leader of the pack’. The minute I walked in you swanned right up to me, bold as brass. I mean, I probably should have noticed that your mother had a propensity for serious barking at the time but, I was already in love with you.
We went through so many things together in the transpiring years. Break up’s with boys, me sobbing furiously into your fur on the sofa. Even the time I came home drunk and tried to make you dance to Jay Z with me (that was auntie Jess’s fault, or was it the cocktails?). At no stage did you treat me like a mentalist. At every stage you provided endless affection to me. Even at times when I felt no one else ever would. Then, I met the hubby. You fell more in love with him than possibly me! We spent long summers with you roaming about fields, you off the lead, never ever managing to burn off the endless energy you seemed to possess.
Then the kids came. You loved eldest from the moment you set eyes on him. Even if his weird ninja moves in the moses basket scared the daylights out of you to begin with! You were patient with him, even when he pulled your tail or tried to mount you like a horse. Middle you never warmed to. A fact that greatly bothered me. At one stage I worried you might attack him. But, you never would have. I get that now. You just realised that now I would have even less time for you. You always were smart. I did have less time.
One day you got sick. You were fine and the next you weren’t. I still will never understand how it happened so quickly. We tried everything we could. At a cost that we couldn’t even afford. We just wanted to make you our Mad Mols again. But, it was to no avail. I decided that you should be buried under the cherry blossom tree. The only pink in my world of blue. Every time I look at it in bloom, I will think of you and my boys- my favourite things in the world.
You may have humped pillows like mad, despite being done. You may have had an abundance of energy that no one could ever quite deplete but, you were the best horniest, energetic dog in the world! We must also not forget the fact that, when eldest was born, you received an ASBO because I couldn’t go out to get you as quickly when you barked. But, in some parts, that’s a badge of honour! I love you to the moon and back Molly. Your madness actually prepared me for being a mum to boys. Someone up there was looking out for me. Rest easy old girlie. I miss you so much already xoxoxo
This week the boy’s started full on ‘boy fighting’. Previously their fighting amounted to jumping off the sofa onto each other, throwing pillows at one another and the occasional pushing episode. As much as the trampoline we purchased has managed to keep them out of my hair for a bit, it’s also created the perfect environment for them to lamp shades out of each other whilst in a confined space.
Yesterday they went out on it and I stood observing eldest and middle rugby tackling each other, full scale jumping from one end, straight on top of the other and, even punching. I shouted repeatedly, only to be ignored. They were too fired up. Meanwhile baby happily bounced away on his bum, occasionally throwing the odd slap in their direction. ‘You are such a great fighter!’ eldest was saying to middle. ‘You are so good at fighting that, if you get me one more time, I will give you £2’. Middle gladly accepted the challenge and I went inside for a second. No sooner had I turned my back, eldest was in crying hysterically that middle had ‘really hurt him’. I cuddled him, then pointed out ‘you did tell him he was a good fighter son and offered him money if he got you again. What did you expect?’. Middle as usual gave zero f’s and was still bouncing away oblivious to what he had just inflicted.
Speaking of £2, eldest’s homework this week stated that he was learning about money and, as parents, we should ‘let them look at the money we had in our purse or wallet and talk about the value of each’. Eldest’s eyes lit up. I on the other hand recoiled. There was no way on earth I was letting him at my purse after him gladly emptying his money box the other day and having more money than me. Namely because he had acquired his wealth from me in the form of going through my purse. I kept wondering where on earth all my pound coins were disappearing to. I don’t know whether to be proud that he managed to do it without me seeing or, worried. But at least I know where to go for a loan.
Baby is growing more needy by the day. He has started following me everywhere and crying if I even leave a room. This has resulted in my having to lug him everywhere whilst trying to do a million things. A few weeks ago he took his first steps but has still not fully taken off. I’m not sure what else I can do to encourage him. He just doesn’t seem interested and gets around quite happily with his one handed crawling. His speech is amazing however and he is saying lots of new words. This week ‘peppa’, ‘go’ ‘ha ha’ and ‘book’. Maybe I will regret ever willing him to walk when he is dandering after me from room to room wailing in my ear. That will make three of them then. Help me!
This week began with eldest returning home from school on Monday with a note advising that his class would be putting on a talent show. The letter asked that any child with a discernible talent put themselves forward to perform. ‘ Do you have a talent you would like to showcase to all your class mates?’ I asked eldest eagerly, full of hopes of dreams. ‘No, I don’t have a talent mum, anyways it sounds sooooo stupid!’ he replied. ‘Everyone has a talent, think of something you are good at’ I implored. He pondered for awhile then confidently answered ‘I am really good at farting in people’s faces’. Give me strength! Safe to say he didn’t partake and observed instead.
Later that evening the P1 mum’s WhatsApp group was going into meltdown. ‘What do they have to wear tomorrow for the trip?’. ‘Um, what trip?’ I sheepishly sent. ‘The farm trip, I think they need wellies’. FML I had completely forgotten that he was going on that. I cannot keep up with the constant letters advising of colour runs (next Friday), sports day (the following Friday) and summer fair (the Saturday after). I’m beginning to think it’s better if the kids are tattooed with each date for the diary at the start of the year, thus ensuring no one can forget. It’s only a bit of ink. Between these dates and all the bloody birthday parties I have to remember. Aw the social life of a five year old! Maybe I’m just jealous?
Middle is his usual, laid back self. His latest thing this week is telling me when I shout at him to stop or ‘you will never see me ever again’. Not sure if that’s a threat, sounds like quite the offer to me. Another new one is taking off his trousers and pants, jumping repeatedly on the trampoline and screaming ‘girls, girls’ at the ones next door like some kind of walking hormone. I keep having to speed out and redress him before the little girls are permanently traumatised. The sun is fun until these sort of things occur then it’s just plain stressful. He did get a full time pre school place which I was totally shocked about. I’m not complaining however. I just hope they know what they’ve let themselves in for. Hopefully he manages to keep his clothes on until the settling in period is over at least.
Baby has finally taken a few unaided steps. Praise the lord!! He has also been throwing some almighty tantrums which seems a bit early to me. Maybe he is just giving me a glimpse into how severe the two year old ones will be. I dyed my hair dark at the weekend as was so sick of dealing with the roots. Being blonde, broke and having kids is not a good combination. He took one look at me and burst into tears petrified. He didn’t realise it was me. Not only this but he refused to come near me for a whole day. Maybe I’m onto something there….. **stocks up on varying shades of all hair dyes**.
A few weeks ago I decided that all of downstairs needed to be painted. Matt paint and three boys doth not a good combination make. They have annihilated all my walls, a point highlighted even more with the sun making an appearance lately! It’s all well and good having a plan of any kind with kids, it’s the execution that’s the problem.
The painter would be working from 9am to 5pm for three days straight so, we would have to make ourselves scarce. Off we went to stay with nanna with what felt like ten bags of clothes and miscellenous crap, including teddies. The dog would also have to stay so her bed, insulin and food also had to come with us. It never ceases to amaze me how much stuff I can fit into that Skoda Fabia of mine, including us!
Boy’s arrive at nanna’s and go absolutely mental at the sheer novelty of getting to stay there. Jumping off every bed, the sofa and demanding sweets from the sweet drawer. Meanwhile I run around like a mad woman trying to organise their clothing, by kid, in the chest of drawers. Dog is only permitted in nanna’s garage so every hour or so I have to put her lead on her and bring her to pee outside. She is also fully blind now and, not knowing her surroundings there, walks into everything going.
The boy’s newest thing is farting in my face which is positively disgusting. No amount of naughty step or toy’s being taken away is solving this. Mainly because they are in cahoots together with it. The only saving grace being at nanna’s provided was, the fact they now directed said farts in papa’s face. Savages but at least my face is spared for once. Nighttime was so stressful. Eldest and middle would be sharing a room and myself and baby another one. The moment I went to bed, all three were in with me. Fighting continually over whose side I was on and who got cuddles. Meh, the days they want cuddles will soon be long gone. Even eldest is starting to waiver on the cuddle front. I decide to enjoy it whilst only getting a few hours sleep.
Having survived two nights at nanna’s it was onto middle’s third birthday. What to get him? ‘I think he’d like a swing for the garden’ hubby suggested. ‘That’s not reckless enough for middle, I think he’d prefer a trampoline. Plus, they will all get use out of it over the summer’ I countered. I left this part to hubby whilst I bought Lego and all the other surprises. The evening before his party, we decided to construct said trampoline. Now, my neighbours who are elderly have just double fenced their fence for some privacy. What do we do? Erect a 10ft trampoline in the garden so the kids can practically bounce over their fence. 10ft hubby??? Our tiny bit of garden no longer exists but, best money ever spent as boy’s have been on it continually. I’m sure the neighbours will disagree entirely. Party was a success. We invited some of middle’s friends and also some of eldest’s as I figure he won’t get a party as his birthday in August and school off (perfect excuse to save money).
That brings me to this week and middle’s antics again. He has been potty trained for how long now? Ages. Yet every time I go to get him from the pre school room, he has had an accident. Not an accident per se, just not pulling his trousers all the way down. I’m exasperated! Is it the change of room in nursery or laziness? Who knows. ‘You must make sure your trousers are down’ I implored upon picking him up today and realising he was in his spare clothes. He looks at me and laughs hysterically. ‘Just a wee accident, I pwromiseee not do it again’ he says. I heard that last week son. Arggghhhh!!! That one certainly keeps me on my toes.
Baby is standing up on his own, pulling himself along things yet still not fully walking. I’m beginning to get worried now. I know he can do it yet every time I stand him up, he stands there for ages then flings himself to me laughing. Seems he has inherited the reckless gene (fml). The health visitor is referring him if he hasn’t walked by 18 months. Any one else had this issue? Both the others walked quickly. My MIL always said ‘they focus on walking or talking’. It’s so true as eldest took longer walking but was great at talking, middle opposite (walking before he was even one) and baby is good with his talking right now. Kids, always a worry!
A few weeks ago, I picked up eldest from school full of excitement. Because, the Easter break was upon us and he would be off for two whole weeks! I was excited for one reason and one reason only and that’s the fact that myself and him would get to spend some time alone together. We never get to anymore. This was going to be wonderful. Well……
Day one I asked him what he would like to do. ‘Ummm’ he pondered, ‘let’s go shopping’ he finally decided. Weird, I thought but, if that’s what he wants to do, we shall do it. Off we went to the local shops. He started off easy with Home Bargains, picking a relatively cheap toy and a book. This isn’t too bad, I mused to myself. Then he spotted the pound shop. How bad could that be? Well, after five minutes he had filled a whole basket with utter crap (he probably inherited this reckless £ shop spreeing from me in his defence). I managed to talk him into procuring a few useless items in the end and ushered him straight out before he spied anything else. We’d no sooner left and walked past a barbers. ‘Mum, can I get my hair cut in there?’ he asked. I looked at the current state of his hair and quickly established that a hair cut wasn’t a bad idea. Another ten pounds gone. Day one had cost me a grand total of twenty pounds!
Day two he had to accompany me to the doctors. This proved entirely awkward. I tried so hard not to get emotional as he was present but, I just didn’t manage it. It was also highly embarrassing having to speak about my mental health with him seated right beside me but, need’s must. I spoke to him on the way to the car park and explained the importance of being a male and talking to someone if you feel sad. When we got back to the car he began to moan. ‘Mum, these trainers don’t even fit me anymore. I mean, feel how my toes are right at the top!’. I leant over to test his theory. He was correct. Arrrrggggh! Off we went to purchase new trainers. But, I couldn’t buy him some without getting a pair for middle. He has been wearing eldest’s hand me down trainers for two years now (eldest was so easy on all them, they were like new). It was time middle got a brand new pair. To be fair eldest picked a pair that weren’t overly expensive but, they only had one pair in middle’s size and they cost more than I had expected. I was going to be bankrupt by the end of the week at this rate. Upon picking middle up, box in hand, he took one look at his gleaming new trainers and declared ‘this is stupid treat, where my lollipop?’. The gratitude is strong with that one- not!
The next few days were glorious. We spent lots of time outside. This was great as they were easily entertained with all the toys out in the garden. Even baby was loving life on his Paw Patrol ride on, basking in the sunlight. That was until middle decided that he was having too much fun to reenter the house so would just keep peeing on the grass. What is it with this child? He knew to do it in a corner that I can’t see from the kitchen also. Lot’s of naughty step and time outs seemed to solve this problem. Until, the following day, when he ran into the house demanding that I ‘wipe his bottom’. ‘Why’ I implored. ‘You haven’t gone to your potty?’. At that point eldest came in, shaking due to laughing hysterically. ‘Owen did a poo outside’ he claimed, in between convulsing. ‘HE DID WHAT?’ I yelled. I don’t think I’ve ever ran so fast. There, in the hidden corner, was a very large poo. Who does that? I mean. who? Poo removed (with a doggy poo bag, the shame!) and, bottom wiped he was placed on the naughty step whilst I grabbed every single Easter egg he had received. He was told they would be going in the ‘big bin’. You know sh#t is going down if something is going in the ‘big bin’. This resulted in him crying the whole night. Well, don’t be an utter savage then son!
Baby is on the move walking wise. His confidence has grown so much that, his new favourite thing is standing up on the bed, hands in the air, waiting a moment, then flinging himself forward. Why did I ever think he would be my easiest one? He has obviously inherited middle’s ‘just do it anyway and see what happens’ approach to life. I’m on tenterhooks every time he even moves now. How am I ever going to keep three of them alive? Little boys have an obsession with scaling things, climbing and jumping from heights. Help!! Who up there hates me? I want to deal with unicorns, plaits and nail polish not Lego, farts and football.
On the plus side, I have survived these two weeks with my sanity nearly intact. Roll on the summer, I mean, oh god, the summer! Better take up yoga before that arrives!