My husband doesn’t understand how stressful it is to try to get two kids ready and get yourself to work on time. Granted he doesn’t know this as he leaves the house at 5.45am and I know it sucks that he is up so early. However I largely get up about 15 minutes later and I’d happily trade in those 15 minutes in bed if it meant I didn’t have to get involved in the following debacle;
- The Hulk (2) starts the process of cot shouting at about 6am. This usually involves wailing “Mummy” at top volume whilst banging the nearest hard object against the bars. If he is unable to locate anything appropriate he will use his head.
- I try to get ready for work as quietly as possible so as not to disturb the Diva (4) whose bedroom is next to the bathroom. This means I cannot shower, flush the toilet or use the electric toothbrush. She is usually awake, but waiting for the sun on her clock to come up at 6.45am. She will do this nicely, on the condition that no one else appears to be awake. The moment she suspects there is “fun” happening without her she must flout the rules and come running out of her bedroom. I use the term “fun” loosely, as knowingly missing out on watching me taking a shit is too much to ask.
- It is now 6.30 and the Hulk’s shouts have reached an unacceptable volume so he must be released from his
cagecot. He joins me back in my bedroom while I apply make up. He demands “Pat” on the I-player, he then proceeds to totally ignore our favourite inept postman in favour of launching himself at me while I apply make up. Now I have black mascara in my blond hair and I am blind in one eye from having an eyeshadow applicator shoved in it. I get dressed. The Diva appears just in time to ask me for the millionth time why my girlie bits are furry.
- I turn off Postman Pat. Despite the fact that he wasn’t actually watching it, the Hulk throws a tantrum. We leave him there and go and brush our teeth. The Diva will not go for a wee, she has just got up but is adamant she does not need the toilet. Stupid Mummy disagrees so now both children are tantruming in separate rooms. I return to the Hulk, brandishing a toothbrush. This drives the tantrum to reach biblical proportions. We assume the standard daily wrestling position and the teeth are clean. I now have toothpaste on my trousers.
- Grabbing a baby wipe to clean off the toothpaste, we go downstairs for breakfast. The Hulk empties the Shreddies onto the kitchen floor while the Diva starts doing a wee dance. She admits that she does in fact need a wee and runs up the stairs whilst shouting “it’s coming out mummy, it’s too late!” She reappears naked from the waist down which is how she eats her breakfast. The Hulk throws his cereal all over himself and is distressed to be covered in cold milk. His wet pyjamas also bite the dust and they are now both half naked.
- They are losing interest in finishing breakfast, they moan and I crack and agree to watching Katy Perry videos on the iPad at the dining table. I manage to sneak some spoonfuls of Cheerios in the Hulks mouth in between “Roars”
- It is now about 7.45. I need to leave at 8.00am to get to work on time. I lay the Diva’s clothes into an on the floor person.
- She absent mindedly dresses herself while I chase around the downstairs of the house after the Hulk (singing the Benny Hill theme tune in my head) I finally capture him and we sit where the clothes were, only to discover that they are no longer there. I waste 5 minutes looking for them and locate them on the back door-mat having been posted out the cat flap at some point in the morning. They are now wet. I choose new clothes. I recapture the Hulk. He screams as getting dressed is a clear infringement of his basic human rights. By now it is 8am I am just asking the Diva to get her coat on when I spot her clean pants on the floor. She is outraged at the request to actually put some pants on, so there is a slight delay while she shouts at me. I bribe her with a chocolate coin and with the helpful addition of some princess pants, we leave the house. It is 8.10am.
- Fortunately my sister who looks after the Diva when I go to work is only 3 doors away. She runs to her house, I wave at my sister and take the Hulk to nursery. He does a poo in his car seat so that we arrive at nursery smelling of shit and ensuring that I look negligent.
I am late for work. Again.