Pooped
I have just hosted a luncheon party for a two week old, an eight month old and a twenty month old and, pathetically, I am exhausted. I am surveying the carnage around me and wondering how on earth I coped when my cherubs were younger. Perhaps I didn't. Did I live in this chaos of food trodden into the carpet, brightly coloured, noisy toys, spilt juice, sodden tissues, and a slight whiff of soiled nappies and not feel jaded by the end of the day? How did my cats cope? They all fled the house within 10 minutes of the first small person arriving and are now sitting on the patio debating who should be sent in to check that the coast is clear. Whenever I open the back door and invite them in they all behave as if they have no idea who I am and begin cleaning their nether regions with a manic intensity. I have also been left with one orange beaker, a naked doll and an assortment of cast-offs, including a play-nest and a bouncing, reclining chair to go towards the 'Nanny Fund'.
My Grandsons, second cousins, Mother has a blog. In her 10th May entry she is inviting people to ask her three questions, which she will answer honestly - dangeroux n'est pas? Unfortunately I cannot participate in this as I don't know how to cut and paste! That's my excuse, and I'm sticking to it!
Yesterday I went up to our local shops with daughter and grandson. Usually if I venture into 'town' I am guaranteed to meet loads of people I know, yesterday I saw one acquaintance, I think there is a law that governs this, something along the lines of 'If you want to be quick you will meet at least ten people who want to have a chat. If you want to meet ten people, have a chat AND show off your grandson, you will not meet any'. Blow.
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(11.5.04 17:26) It's not eazy being a mother/house husband. I read somewhere that on the open market, the value of all the jobs you do is something like £150,000! Take a sweet for all your good work! |