Bertie’s been brilliant at starting school. We did have a little wobble in the first week:
Bertie: Mummy I don’t want to leave you, I’m really shy, I want to stay with you.
Me: Why? I’m going home to put Evie to sleep and then I’m going to be super busy cleaning (I know I shouldn’t lie to my son but I was actually trying to kid myself).
I had to prize him off me, give his hand to the teacher, push him and run away. I’m not a crier but this was upsetting. FYI I didn’t cry, I just couldn’t speak to my husband all evening without getting irritated with every little thing he did. Clearly everything was my husbands fault, especially the fact he’s not a mind reader, his life would be sooooo much easier if he was.
Bertie has now done his first full day and it went something like this:
6.00 Think about getting up, plan what needs to be done and how long it’ll take me. He starts at 9.00 (so I work backwards) and realise it’ll take me three hours to achieve it all…..I need to get up now.
6.02 Go back to sleep.
7.00 Fuuuuuuck I needed to be up an hour ago. I won’t wash my hair, stress over, I’ll wait for Evie to wake up.
7.03 Thud, thud, thud. Bertie comes clattering into our bedroom demanding his new Spiderman dressing gown is tied up, then he goes into ‘check Evie is asleep’.
7.10 We’re all in my bed playing, Evie sitting on my face with a full wet nappy because I haven’t bothered to change it yet. Bertie jumping up and down…..on my shins.
7.15 NOW WE’RE OFFICIALLY LATE. Everyone get up and go, go, go. Bertie takes his sweet time to go downstairs and then complains because he “wanted to be the leader”.
8.15 Bertie has managed to finish his third bowl of Weetabix and decides he wants to watch TV, ermmmmm… not on a school day, it’s straight upstairs. Cue a lot of shouting, throwing himself around and shutting his mouth when I’m trying to clean his teeth. FFS, only thing for it, squeeze his nose so he can’t breath….ha ha, one point to Mummy, you opened your mouth.
8.30 I throw clothes on and decide on a shower after drop off, lick my eyelashes with mascara and use the trusty lip crayon to give an air of “I’ve taken ages to get ready this morning, and yes, my hair is supposed to look greasy”.
8.40 SHOES, SHOES, SHOES, SHOES, PUT YOUR SHOES ON……….NOW. I clamp Evie into the buggy, phone, keys, wallet, book bag, lunchbox, Bertie (with shoes), Evie…. check. Out the door.
8.55 Hand Bertie over and fight my way back to the buggy. Stand and wonder what to do now the rush is over, have a chat with another Mum.
9.10 Put Evie to sleep and make a mental list of what needs to be done, ironing, vacuuming, clean kitchen and bathroom.
9.15 Evie asleep, have a cup of tea and go over mental list.
9.30 Decide I don’t want to do anything on my mental list and start painting an old dining chair and working out how I’m going to upholster the seat.
10.30 My chair is starting to look good.
11.30 My chair looks bloody amazing.
11.45 Maybe I should give up my day job and upcycle stuff to sell. Maybe open a shop???
12.00 Evie and I have lunch and do boring stuff like shopping.
15.00 Finish my chair. Admire my chair. Have a look on Gumtree to look for cheap chairs to buy.
15.15 Decide you can’t buy cheap dining chairs and realise it’s only 15 min until I need to pick Bertie up, Evie has just done a poonami and eaten mud from the front room plant pot. Decide I can’t pretend I don’t know about the poo, she stinks like something rotten. Run down the road.
15.30 Exactly on time and they’re not out yet. Yet again, Bertie gets to the back of the wrong queue, wait ages for him to be released.
15.40 Me: So what did you do today?
Bertie: I can’t remember!!!
Me: You’ve only just walked out the door??????
Me: I gave birth to you, I keep you alive, sort out your clothes, give you treats, the least you can do is tell me one thing you did at school, anything???
Bertie: Ermmmmm I can’t remember
<mentally remembering this for when he’s older and wants to know what vaccinations he had as a child for some application form, my response will be “I can’t remember!”>
16.00 Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs put on, we all sit to watch it together.
17.00 Realise I haven’t organised dinner Pasta, pesto, it, is.
17.15 Feed children.
18.30 Drag children to be washed and bribe Bertie with stories so I can wash his hair.
19.30 Both children asleep, I realise I haven’t washed today, quick shower and wash disgusting hair.
20.00 Eat dinner, watch Game of Thrones.
21.00 Watch another Game of Thrones.
22.00 I want to watch another Game of Thrones but decide it’s a stupid idea and anyway it’s ended on a high. The character I hated the most has been killed. If I watch another one my favourite character will probably have his head smashed in. Go to bed and fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.
REPEAT (but with cleaning NOT painting)