Today I have officially been sent to the brink of insanity by my son. I now consider myself well and truly a member of the Lunatic Mothers Screaming at Their Kids Club. I only thank goodness that all surrounding neighbours are elderly and half are slightly deaf.
I don’t blog regularly about my kids, my bloke being the subject of most posts, however today’s events require a little venting for mental health purposes. For the record my aussie bloke has been wonderful and completely supportive… via text message, (this is the only conversation I can manage between tantrums and nappies, and all he can manage between jobs).
Today began as usual, crawling out of bed with a headache due to broken sleep. It dawns on me that playgroup is today. I take a moment to think, there is a lot of work about to go into getting myself and two kids to playgroup, should I bother? This is where I made my mistake… Why not, it’ll be a nice morning out.
1 hour later with baby screaming, and shoes on the wrong feet of two year old we are getting packed into the car. I take a moment to think, Its not to late to turn around.
Nah, I decide, we’ll go to playgroup. Besides, we’re ready now.
20 minutes later, 2 year old has timed his morning poo perfectly, and is stinking out the room while refusing to have his nappy changed. I take a moment to think. How the hell do you get willful toddler to change his nappy without a screaming match.
Ha! Stupid question, you can’t.
Moments later we are leaving playgroup, (perhaps removing him from playgroup will teach him a lesson). It takes 10 minutes to get 2 year old into carseat, ( its one of those days when I really wanted to break the law, bung him in the back and start to drive).
I take a moment to think, when I get home, IF we get home, we are never leaving the house again!
We got home.
While both kids are screaming on the floor I make myself a cup of tea and stare out the kitchen window. I consider all forms of legal punishments, (and some illegal). I take a moment to think. I remind myself why I had kids, this took a while. Once I remembered I held that thought and went back into battle.
Father in a hurry “Where’s my fucking wallet?”
A moment later…
Son (2.5 yrs) “Where’s the fucking toothpaste?!”
Strike 1 Daddy, the sponge is starting to drip dirty water!
Fun Aussie Fact: Some aussie blokes use foul language in almost every sentence. Sometimes twice!