Therapy

Once again, it's rather late at night and I should be getting ready for bed...but I seem to be addicted to this blog! It's free therapy, I guess...and I know that if I don't put my thoughts into cyberspace I'll just lie in bed thinking them anyway, so why not make someone laugh at my misfortunes?!?

The kids and I were heading into the city with Grandma today (my MIL), so it was action stations. Being the first day of Term 4, Christian was off and away by about 6am. Maisie woke for an early feed and promptly fell asleep in my bed, which suited me fine. I was actually doing well for time (initially), as the big kids were fed, dressed and not killing each other by the time I went for a shower (one of the perks of living with the in-laws is the extra eyes when you need to do something tricky like shower, or go to the toilet without a toddler in tow). I was supposed to pick Grandma up from the shops at 9.15, but when Maisie was still asleep at 9am I knew we were in trouble. I wanted to phone my grandmother, Argie, as it was her 83rd birthday today. Even though we saw her yesterday for her birthday, I wanted to wish her a happy day, so I woke Maisie, dialled Argie's number, got Mais into the highchair and began shovelling Farex in her mouth. My mistake was allowing a jovial Jack to entertain his baby sister while she was having breakfast. Before I knew it, Maisie was laughing so hard she was spraying Farex and spit all over me, the highchair, and Jack. Brilliant. Just to seal the deal, she then sneezed violently so that a fine coating of cereal and opaque bodily fluids covered her little growsuit, meaning that I would definitely have to change her before our departure. At this point, Jack tripped over some unidentifiable object whilst standing perfectly still, and banged his elbow on the wooden table. His howls of pain brought Phoebe to the kitchen, and her mirth at seeing Jack's tears brought a fresh round of sobs. In his infinite wisdom, Jack then decided that a hug from Mummy would make him feel better, and wiped his tears and snot onto my blouse. I must say, I looked quite fetching with a veneer of Farex, sneeze particles (snot), tear drops and the products of a runny nose (more snot) covering my previously acceptable attire. (I don't know about you, but I usually chuck on something clean in the morning and hope that not many people see me. When I'm heading to the city, it's a lot harder...when you are simultaneously trying to hide a mummy tummy, and trying to breastfeed discreetly, blouse choice is critical!) Argie quite graciously let me get off the phone at this point (I think she was laughing pretty hard, to tell the truth!!) Somehow, I found another clean shirt, rubbed the wrinkles out with my hand, cleaned Maisie up, consoled Jack, made three Vegemite sandwiches, remembered to put the double pram in the car, strapped three kids in, and went to pick up Grandma, all the time wondering if it was beer o'clock yet. (It hasn't been beer o'clock for oh, about 5 years now, but the drought's gotta break sometime, doesn't it?)

Anyway, we had a lovely day in the city, with only one meltdown between the three of them! Is that some sort of record? They all took it in turns to have a little nap in the pram, Mais had a go at shouting at strangers from the Baby Bjorn, I bought some lovely new measuring cups in the shape of Matriouska dolls, and I didn't have to clean the floor after our lunch. Score! What made this day golden was the fact that when we arrived home, tired and footsore (or raring to go and full of pep after a nap in the car, take your pick), Daddy took Mummy out for Thai, leaving the three musketeers with Grandma and Grandpa. So I didn't have to clean the floor after dinner, either!!! Now that's what I call a good day!!!