Yesterday I spent a heavenly day in the city with the Mouse, Gertrude and Esmerelda. Apart from the delightful company, it was a special day in a few other ways: firstly, Esmerelda had been awarded her CPA yesterday morning (Congratulations, clever girl!!!), and secondly, it was one of our last days together before Gertie heads off to live in Queensland (Harrumph). We didn't care that it was pouring with rain, or so humid that frizzy hair was de rigeur...we had shops, we had other people to serve us lunch, we had each other. And Maisie had two doting aunties in addition to Mumma, all to herself!!
I was looking to buy a little story book about starting school for Mr.Jack when I realised that Miss Mouse had taken a shine to a miniature Miffy teddy. It was pretty cute watching her squeeze the living daylights out of it, so fierce was her love, until I realised she had dribbled all over it, and I had to buy it anyway!! (Oh who am I kidding, I was going to buy it for her anyway. Bad mother.) We trawled through all sorts of shops, Maisie in the pram, Maisie in Aunty Gert's arms, Maisie in Aunty Esmerelda's arms, Maisie in my arms...until we got to the lingerie department in Myer. It was in the ladies' changing room that the Mouse decided enough was enough, and she wanted DOWN. And it was in the ladies' changing room that my little girl decided to start crawling properly! She went this way, she went that way...she went and looked underneath another lady's door - whoops!!!
No matter how long I have with my girls (and it's never enough!) it's always exactly what I need to feel refreshed again. I must admit we got a bit carried away having fun, as before we knew it the clock had it's big hand on the four - which was definitely time for all good mummies to be heading home!!! When Mais and I arrived back at the mansion, Jack and Phoebs were bathed and fed, and I had a good-looking hubby in the kitchen to boot! This day was the sublime...
And now for the ridiculous.
I am definitely paying for yesterday. I swear to you, I am not exaggerating. It's barely 7:30 in the morning, and the conversations in this house have me completely, and utterly batty. It began an hour and a half ago, when Maisie woke for her early feed. Instead of lying there quietly and going back to sleep, she kicked me repeatedly in the torso as she fed. If I took myself away from her, she screamed - and then when back to rolling, grunting, and Karate-Kidding my stomach. What was that about? When her chatting and exercise became a bit too much, I got up...only to be greeted with a scream from the other room. That's right - Phoebe woke up screaming this morning. (On reflection, that now seems perfectly plausible...although at the time I was mildly disturbed!) Now, considering Daddy was trying to get some shut-eye amongst all this hubbub, I was telling the kids to pipe down. So what did my eldest daughter do? First, she went into the toilet and kept a (loud) commentary (seriously, the girl can stage-whisper with an imaginary megaphone). Then, she went into the bathroom, and yelled at the top of her lungs for her brother. Why? Beats me. There doesn't need to be a reason, apparently.
I managed to get them into the loungeroom and organised breakfast, while the noise-fest continued. I must have asked them to settle down 983 times by this point? All to no avail, of course. Imagine this - Jack, Phoebe, Maisie and I are sitting around the breakfast table. Maisie is Dad-dad-dad-dad-dad-dad-ing at the top of her lungs, interspersed with some vague yelling (I'm sure it's obscene language in baby-talk); Phoebe is simultaneously keeping up a stream of chatter directed at her English muffin, and Jack is bellowing at me about some Ben 10 watch he must have lost at Grandma's house and could we buy a new one? Please Mum? Because I lost my old one and I did liked it and you have to get me a new one please Mum? Please? Or a Woody and Buzz one? But Mum?
Oh how I was begging for ear plugs or a Temazapam at this point. I smiled sweetly (actually, it was definitely more of a snarl) and requested politely (or snapped, take your pick), "All of you! Stop talking, and eat your breakfast!" (before I take it and do something unspeakable...) There was silence for a beat, then, "Mummy, if Jack has a Ben 10 watch, do I have a fairy one?" And so it went on. Particular gems during this melee included:
Jack: Mum, I am all yoghurty inside my mouth.
Me: mmm hmmmmm.
Jack: Mum, do you want to see my yoghurt? (opens mouth wide to see the yoghurty goodness)
Me (tersely): No Jack! I do not want to see anything you are chewing!
Jack: I wasn't speaking to you Mummy, so don't get cross.
Me: You weren't speaking to me?
Jack: No, I was speaking to Phoebe.
Me: So when you address Phoebe, you start your sentence with "Mum"??
Jack: Ah, no. I must have been talking to you then.
Damn straight.
Phoebe: Mummy, my bottom hurts.
Me: Why?
Phoebe: Because I'm sitting on my toast.
*Sigh*
Meanwhile, Maisie found (with undisguised joy) the bowls of dog food and water I accidently left on the floor after a rainy night. She also found the remnants of Daddy's potato chips, half a beetle, and something soft. All of which saw me pulling out the vacuum at 7:15am. When Jack and Phoebe started playing battering rams with their teddies and Maisie started her tired cry, I caught myself wondering if it was cocktail hour somewhere in the world...to top it all off, the TV was having "issues" due to the weather, and wasn't responding to any of my pleas for help.
So Daddy has gone to the doctor's, and we are about to head out the door for swimming lessons. Apparently there are flood warnings for our local roads, and currently the rate of cats and dogs falling from the sky is alarming. I think I will drive exceptionally slowly, with some choice music cranked up to drown out the voices in my head...and those in the back seat. Wish me luck!
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