I can’t believe it’s only the end of day 1 of February half term. Today’s fun and games have contributed to me ageing at least 3 years. Genuinely, I have no idea how other parents manage to successfully take their children abroad and back again with no real dramas to speak of. Mine manage to injure themselves SITTING IN THEIR FUCKING BEDROOM.
Fun and games of parenting.
Emily and Ruby have the joy of sharing the largest bedroom in our house. And despite them having drawers, wardrobes, shelves, dressing tables, bookshelves and endless boxes and baskets to put their things in. It’s always a fucking bomb site. Literally. If our house was ever broken in to, the burglars would take one look at their bedroom, and get out the rubber gloves, bin bags and hoover and start cleaning it.
If the carpet in their room wasn’t the same as the rest of the upstairs of our house, I wouldn’t know what colour it is. But somehow, despite their floor usually being littered with earrings, Lego, Barbie shoes, stuffed animals, make up brushes and scraps of paper, they walk across their floor no problem.
I can’t. I usually have to walk across their floor like a hippo doing ballet.
Which is no mean feat, let me tell you.
Trying to keep your balance whilst your entire body weight is balancing on toes that you can’t even see, is more of a challenge than fun and games.
During term time, I don’t really get on at them about the state of their room. We rarely go into it unless it’s bedtime. Which allows me to shut the door on the shit tip in the morning, and then ignore it until night. And by bedtime I’m usually so anxious to get them into bed before they get their second wind, that I can successfully overlook all the crap everywhere.
This changes somewhat when it’s the school holidays. Because there’s a lot of flouncing upstairs and slamming bedroom doors over something gravely serious. Like getting kicked out of a Roblox server for instance.
So I’m often entering the shit tip, during daylight hours, to try and calm the stroppy child down. The fun and games of being a parent.
All that tends to happen here is that I become the stroppy one, shouting and bawling about “the state of this fucking room!”
I’m a very good grumpy cleaner by the way. There’s nothing quite like angrily thrusting rubbish into a bin bag, muttering “for fucks sake“ every time you find another piece of torn up
school register paper.
I like to throw in the odd “what the fuck is this?” whenever I stick my hand under their bunk bed. And “oh there you fucking are” when I finally find the partner to the sock that has been lonely for months.
Fun and games indeed
Today, I decided that as Ruby was out having lots of fun with her bestie, I’d tackle their shit tip myself. Joe and Jess were out and Emily was sitting happily on her bed with her laptop.
Basically, an ideal time to get on with a shitty job. Without having to stop every 3 seconds to shout “stop shouting at each other” to the kids. (Yes, I see the irony.)
It uis SO much easier cleaning a bedroom when there’s only one happy occupant in it. No. No. I mean when there’s only one other person in a whole house.
Before Emily could even draw her eyes away from Minecraft, their room was spotless. Not a single thing out of place or on the floor.
So you’d forgive me for thinking this was an ideal time to go downstairs for a coffee.
Shockingly I managed to drink it at the temperature it was supposed to be.
I know. I still can’t believe it. A hot coffee in the school holidays.
Sadly, my glory was short lived. Within seconds of sitting on the toilet for a pee, Emily started screaming from upstairs. Proper screaming. Blood curdling screaming. The kind of screaming that every parent recognises as a genuine injury rather than the result of fun and games.
Stressed? Me? Yep.
Emily’s screaming made the dog go nuts, running upstairs and downstairs barking her head off, which sent both cats nuts, scrabbling their paws across the floor as they tried to run out the back door. Emily was shouting “Mum!!“ Over all this noise, and I was shouting back “I can’t stop the flow, hold on!”
This is the downside to being alone in a house with a child who should’ve been called Emily Calamity rather than Emily Grace. She is without a doubt the most ungraceful person I’ve met. The kind of person who breaks her foot standing up off the floor. Or breaks her arm by standing on it.
Eventually, I made it upstairs, and found that she’d manage to stand on one of her star-shaped lights. That had been stuck on her dressing table. I saw that one of the pointy bits had gone through the bottom of her foot, and the light was hanging out her foot at a weird angle.
A quick Google of what to do with foreign bodies in the foot said that you shouldn’t pull an object out of a wound. So.
Definite A&E trip.
A&E was empty. We were literally the only people in the children’s A&E waiting room.
Having to explain to one of the nurses that we’ve seen countless times, that Emily had knocked something onto her completely clear floor and then stood on it trying to pick it up, sounded as unlikely as her breaking her arm by standing on it. But it was the truth.
Thankfully, there was no serious damage, and her wound was cleaned and bandaged up so we could go home.
We walked (well Emily hopped) into absolute chaos. The dog had peed all over the floor because she’d been left alone for hours. Joe was trying to clean it up, but she kept running off with the toilet paper and the mop. Ruby was begging to play Grand Theft Auto (she’s not allowed to), Emily was starving and moaning about her foot, and Jess was calling me to find out what was for dinner.
By the time I’d cleared up the pee, fed the animals, charged my phone, ordered a takeaway for dinner, taken out the bins, unloaded the dishwasher, turned the washing machine on and fed the kids, it was 11pm. And I was absolutely fucking exhausted.
The kids on the other hand, had hit their second wind and were too hyper to sleep.
What a fantastic day for my Vape to have broken.
I can’t wait to see what happens on Day 2 of the holidays…