Little insight into my day....
So this morning started off rather normal. Well, as normal as it can be with 4 children in the house. A Peppa Piig marathon to ensure the youngest would comply with getting dressed for nursery. The other three took on the resemblance of the progression from Neanderthal Man to present day Homo Sapien.
All children dropped off at their destinations and home by 0800. Not a bad start. Til I got in the house. Eldest had left his house keys and school planner on his bed. He needs his school planner in every lesson otherwise its a detention. Bollocks. Off back to school I go with the keys and planner. Get to school as his bus is pulling into the car park, but obviously because I'm not a member of staff I can't even drive through the fucking school gates for fear of being lynched by the PTFA brigade. Off you sod love. Get to the school building and of course thing one has now gone into school.
Finally find a teacher and explain what the hell I'm doing there, wandering around in jeans and a baggy t shirt, and a mohican that hasn't had my full attention this morning. Explain to the guy that I'm there to belt my son around the head and give him what he needs for the day, and he rather kindly offers to take them to him for me. Excellent. Then he asks who his form teacher is. Shit. I haven't a clue. So now not only do I look like Janice from Wetherspoons after a heavy night on the sauce, I also have no idea about my sons school life. Perfect. After muttering something about having 4 children and not remembering their names half of the time, he gives me a look of pity and walks off. Mother of the Year over here. I now have to negotiate my way through all the school traffic which by now has built up to a car park and we're all at a standstill. Marvellous.
Finally get home mid morning and get the washing on etc. Make myself a brew and do the washing up. Put last nights episode of Friends on the tv and sit having a brew. In peace. Aaaaaahh. Suddenly remember that I'm having lunch with a friend today, so rush upstairs for a shower. Being the queen of procrastination like I am, the shower is running for a good twenty minutes before I actually get in it. (Alright Greenpeace keyboard warriors, I was waiting for the water to heat up. Honest).
Being the performer that I (think I) am, I always have live music on in the shower. Today was Mumford and Sons live on Letterman. Obviously one has to play air drums as well as guitar, and provide both lead and backing vocals. It was a fair while before I realised I'd got halfway through the concert without even opening the shower gel. Oops.
Fast forward an hour (or two) and I finally pick up my friend for lunch. I dont mind telling you I had absolutely no shame in ordering a vodka and Irn Bru from the bar, a full rack of ribs and a choolate fudge cake.
I've had a sodding hard day.
Get home to find the eldest has arrived, and managed to let himself into the house with the keys I brought him to school. He's looking rather sheepish and is very apologetic. I was just about to give him a bollocking about not answering his phone the 15 times I called him on the way to school, when he puts his hand in his pocket, and pulls out a Twix. 'Here you are Mum, sorry for being a pain'.
Gods sake.
Diet starts next Monday.
All children dropped off at their destinations and home by 0800. Not a bad start. Til I got in the house. Eldest had left his house keys and school planner on his bed. He needs his school planner in every lesson otherwise its a detention. Bollocks. Off back to school I go with the keys and planner. Get to school as his bus is pulling into the car park, but obviously because I'm not a member of staff I can't even drive through the fucking school gates for fear of being lynched by the PTFA brigade. Off you sod love. Get to the school building and of course thing one has now gone into school.
Finally find a teacher and explain what the hell I'm doing there, wandering around in jeans and a baggy t shirt, and a mohican that hasn't had my full attention this morning. Explain to the guy that I'm there to belt my son around the head and give him what he needs for the day, and he rather kindly offers to take them to him for me. Excellent. Then he asks who his form teacher is. Shit. I haven't a clue. So now not only do I look like Janice from Wetherspoons after a heavy night on the sauce, I also have no idea about my sons school life. Perfect. After muttering something about having 4 children and not remembering their names half of the time, he gives me a look of pity and walks off. Mother of the Year over here. I now have to negotiate my way through all the school traffic which by now has built up to a car park and we're all at a standstill. Marvellous.
Finally get home mid morning and get the washing on etc. Make myself a brew and do the washing up. Put last nights episode of Friends on the tv and sit having a brew. In peace. Aaaaaahh. Suddenly remember that I'm having lunch with a friend today, so rush upstairs for a shower. Being the queen of procrastination like I am, the shower is running for a good twenty minutes before I actually get in it. (Alright Greenpeace keyboard warriors, I was waiting for the water to heat up. Honest).
Being the performer that I (think I) am, I always have live music on in the shower. Today was Mumford and Sons live on Letterman. Obviously one has to play air drums as well as guitar, and provide both lead and backing vocals. It was a fair while before I realised I'd got halfway through the concert without even opening the shower gel. Oops.
Fast forward an hour (or two) and I finally pick up my friend for lunch. I dont mind telling you I had absolutely no shame in ordering a vodka and Irn Bru from the bar, a full rack of ribs and a choolate fudge cake.
I've had a sodding hard day.
Get home to find the eldest has arrived, and managed to let himself into the house with the keys I brought him to school. He's looking rather sheepish and is very apologetic. I was just about to give him a bollocking about not answering his phone the 15 times I called him on the way to school, when he puts his hand in his pocket, and pulls out a Twix. 'Here you are Mum, sorry for being a pain'.
Gods sake.
Diet starts next Monday.
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