Well, ya couldn’t make it up!


Finally, it’s Wine o’clock! And the fire’s blazing to make it toasty warm!

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It’s been one of those days. You know the ones. Where you feel like you’re in a Stephen King novel: you get up and the birds are chirpy and all seems fine in your world, but by lunchtime you feel the hair in the back of your neck stand to attention and come evening you wonder how on Earth you survived.

Well, let’s start this morning: All four cubs got up. All four cubs got dressed (well, okay, I dressed the 2-year-old), they all had breakfast, brushed their teeth and got to school on time. A miracle in itself, really.

Yes, it rained like it was trying to prove a point (see my earlier post on puddle jumping) and yes, I got soaked to the bones bringing my cubs to school and into crèche. But then I got a nice hot cup of tea while getting some time to update here and do some housework. See, all was good in my world.

Come lunchtime, I had picked up the two small ones and was now going to pick up the 5-year old from school. By car (which is something I rarely do, only living a few minutes’ walk away from the school!), and that’s where the trouble started.

It was also the only thing that started, because the car didn’t. And, of course my husband had the second car with him at work. So, conscious that I was now late for the school run, I quickly unbuckled my two and re-buckled the tiniest one into his stroller. Which he hates, but he had to live with that, and his little big sister got to complain about her tired legs all the way.

Frazzled and late, I finally got to school to pick up the big boy, who I now had to break it to that the promised trip to the toy shop to spend his birthday money was cancelled due to the car (at least his teacher complimented me on his school lunch – *proud moment* – leftover Quiche from last night).

Cue 3 unhappy kids and that 10-minute walk home felt a LOT longer. Not only that, but the next problem I had was that I had banked on that toy shop run, because I needed to buy nappies (diapers to some of you) and above all, tomorrow morning I need to get to work (I do irregular work as a voice over) and that date couldn’t be moved. I was in a right dilemma!

However… things then started to look up, just for a tiny bit:

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My husband, who wasn’t even supposed to come home today as he was meeting friends after work, sent me a message saying ‘Driving home now‘ – he left work early. He’s a superhero!!! Not only did he drive home and leave me the second car, he also fixed the main car and even filled it up! Hurrah!

The roller-coaster was going up. I should’ve known that it wasn’t going to last.

So, after dropping the husband to the train so he could get back to work, we went to The Toy Shop after all.

Only in a toy shop can even the happiest parents lose their will to live. I could see it on other parents’ faces and they could see it in mine. After the fifteenth time (yes, I counted!) of my 3-year-old trying to see if something 60+ Euro would fit into her 10 Euro budget (all the while I was trying to stop the little man from pulling a guitar off a shelf!) I had a wee second of ‘I’m either going to laugh out loud or strangle her‘. The latter is at least frowned upon, so I decided to laugh; which resulted in a very sympathetic mum turning to me and saying, ‘I know, I’m right there with you.

Half and hour and two toys bought later, it appeared to all go well again – until: ‘Mum, why are we home? I thought you needed to buy nappies?

I wanted to bite the steering wheel at that point.

Instead, I pulled out of the drive again to get the groceries needed. Finally, an hour later than intended, the dinner was cooking. Just as I was about to drain the pasta, the 3-year old comes into the kitchen to inform me that her little brother had taken his vest off. Okay, let him be cold. I continued to drain the pasta, add the pesto and stir through the peas I had steamed over the pot. While I put the food on the plates, she came in again, saying that he’s undressed himself.

I should have known then. I think I did know then.

I still wish I could bleach my brain.

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I walked into the living room to find the tiniest boy had not only taken his arms out of his vest and pushed it off his shoulders; he had pushed it past his hips, and also pushed down his trousers and his nappy.

Which was open and hanging off him, full to the brim.

And not with wee.

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