What my children mean to me #dosomethingyummy

It’s not cancer, it’s curable, it will be over within four months.

This is my daily mantra.

These words help me pick up BB when she falls again as her hip dislodges, these words let me see the light at the end of the tunnel. More

I am doing nothing, nothing at all……

As we climbed into bed last night, relishing the warm duvet against our cold skin I turned to he who helped create them and said ‘shall we do nothing tomorrow, have a rest day, maybe not even get dressed?’  Half asleep already he turned and replied ‘yes’ and then wandered off to dreamland. More

Supernanny never had to deal with this

The things Supernanny doesn’t have to deal with

 The moment my eyes were forced into action this morning I knew it was going to be ‘one of those days’.  As the world outside our brown front door slumbered on with sweet Saturday snores our weekend began with bleach and bathroom battles.

It was a gentle surprise this morning to find twin girl in front of my eyes as I peeled them open in response to the unsubtle footsteps cruising up to my bed.  The surprise was quickly replaced by fear when she muttered “mummy I think Owen had an accident as I found this on the floor” and in palm outstretched she held a small circular brown pebble.  

 Ladies and gentleman poogate had begun.

 He who helped create them let out a fantastically fake snore, letting me know I was in this one alone and I let out a shriek of horror as the pebble’s aroma reached my nostrils and I braced myself for what lay outside my door.  As I swung my feet onto the carpeted floor I was instantly struck with a dilemma; I couldn’t see. I have awful eyesight and lost my glasses in the toy box a while back.  Until my contacts are glued into my eyes I am like a bat in daylight; if one pebble had already been found resting idly on the floor who knows what other hazards could lie between me and the cupboard where my ‘eyes’ live.

 I had to pull myself to together, I had to be strong for me and twin girl, it would have been wrong to let her face this alone.  Dressing gown on, eyes in full squint I left the safety of the bedroom.  Instantly on the landing the smell hit me, an accident had definitely occurred, any hope that twin girl had somehow found a small foul smelling stone at the foot of her bed left me instantly.  Although I couldn’t see the perpetrator of the crime I could hear him.

 “Mummy I have done a poo”

 Now apologies for my language here but ‘no shit Sherlock’

 Like a solider going over the trench I headed into the bathroom, I could make out the faint outline of a semi naked four year old hunched on the toilet, I could smell the aroma of last night’s fish fingers in their new form, I could…..

                   ….feel it between my toes.

Exquisite horror overcame me as all sense of calm rational behavior left me; there is no real time appropriate to have such a feeling of warm squishiness on one’s tootsies but that fact that it was only 6.30am added further insult to injury.  Anger replaced horror at my situation when I realized that he who helped create them was still in bed and so I used my ‘reserved for emergencies only bellow’ to summon him from the warmth of the duvet to come join me in bathroom hell.

I have to honest the next thirty minutes are now a hazy memory; similar to the childbirth experience my brain has filtered out the details too traumatic to recollect.  He who helped create them leapt into the midst of things grabbing twin boy and ‘accidentally’ plunged him into a rather chilly shower and started the task of trying to remove the evidence armed with only a sponge.  Twin girl reveled in pointing out my son’s early morning mishap and then laughed every time my hand got too close or my toes tangoed with stool samples.

By seven am the episode was over, twin boy sat freshly washed smelling of rose’s cheerily munching cheerios in his toy story pants.

By some miracle beautiful baby slept through it all – or maybe she just didn’t want to get involved.

Me and he who helped create them were completely knackered, utterly repulsed and wondering where we went wrong.

I tell you, Supernanny never has to deal with anything like this…….

 Still utterly adore the little rotter tho! – a mother’s love eh?

So this is me…

So this is me, allow me to introduce myself.  I am mummy, occasionally pronounced muuuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmm. 

I have three children and a husband (he who helped create them);  the twins arrived four and a half years ago and  we went back for more this year and had our beautiful baby.  More


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Copyright © Jane Blackmore and Northernmum, 2010-2011. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jane Blackmore and Northernmum with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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