northernmum I was queueing up in the beauty line in the womb when patience was being handed out two rows down; consequently I have an incredibly short fuse which is set off easily, and mainly by twin boy.
So I try to avoid situations where I will end up screaming like a mad banshee in public. I plan potentially stressful situations well in advance so I can get through the day with my children intact.
The chap I married is not a morning person. He takes exception every morning to having a five year old creeping into his room between five and seven and asking in a booming voice,
“Is it waking up time yet?”
He typically does a strong impression of a corpse at this point in order to not have to deal with said child. I can physically feel his body freeze into rigor mortis as the door handle starts to turn.
A couple of years ago we had been out in t’north. We don’t go out in the south often because once we have covered the babysitting cost we only have enough left for a cup of tea each and we normally have tea bags and water at home so it seems a bit pointless. But when staying in my parental home we tend to go out a fair bit as grandparents make excellent free childcare providers.
I’ve been on a journey this weekend, its all been, well, a bit odd, different and unusual.
I haven’t seen my children for nearly thirty hours which means that for that time period I have not had to raise my voice to squeaky screech level; wipe food/dirt/sudacrem off my clothes with a baby wipe; clean up anyone else bodily functions or listen to anyone spontaneously burst in melodramatic false tears because someone else took their chosen toy or knocked their elbow in a non painful manner.
Regular readers of the blog will know I totally shamed my family this week at Sports Day, if you missed it, read it here.
Today a fellow school mum emailed me these fabulous photos that clearly shows off the dedication to win that seems to be inbred in my brood.