I've been meaning to write for a couple of days now. I had a whole spiel in mind about the hideousness of cleaning and What I Found Under The Sofa. Then I had a few observations about my children 1: hanging out of upstairs bedroom windows and 2: Mouse potty training Miss T and pretending she is a dog (very amusing at the time).

But...

Today is my birthday and so I decided to write about today instead. It been a nice day. I have had lovely cards and presents from my nearest and dearest. I spent this morning wandering around the shops with my sleeping baby; buying wool, looking at books, buying trousers, looking at more books.

When I collected FHB from school he produced something from his pocket:

Me: Oooh, an oyster shell. Did you have a nice time at the beach?

FHB: No Mummy. Look! (Opens shell).

Me: Oh! Someone is home...Erm, what are you going to do with that oyster?

FHB: Well, I thought Daddy would eat it.

Me: Yeeeeess, but we're going out the afternoon and I don't think the oyster will like it in the car for hours, do you?

FHB (glumly): Well I'll give it to my teacher. I wanted to use the shell as a cup.

We have been to soft play. I had the idea that all four bears could run around like lunatics while I sat quietly reading a magazine. It kind of worked. Mouse has a black bruise on her cheek (which is great, school photos are tomorrow); FHB headbutted me and I have a fat lip; Custy got hit in the face with a football and Miss T had a nosebleed when she fell down a slide. Yay! A fun time was had by all!

Anyway, I had a lovely birthday tea:

With a scrumptious cake made by W:

And decorated by the bears:

You may notice I am celebrating my 5th birthday. W said it was that or 42, as they were the only numbers we had.

And now we are getting ready to try some whisky:

I bought W the book last Christmas for a laugh and we are now trying to taste every whisky in it. There are a lot! Some are so expensive and/or rare that we can only afford a shot of them, so that is what we are doing tonight. 10 to try. One is 60% proof. Goodness!

Happy birthday to me!!

x

Miss T for Terrible

Is it really only a Monday? I am sitting here, eating a Kit Kat Chunky, thinking that I must be mistaken. Today has a very Thursdayish feel about it. I do not like Kit Kat Chunkys, but it seems to be hitting the spot.

Miss T is twenty months old and has hit the Terrible Twos with a vengeance. She is everywhere. She is into everything. She is mightily stroppy. She tells me off. She wallops me quite a lot. Today she has thrown an almighty strop at the school gates because I would not let her climb a tree. We both ended up covered in mud and I took a Croc to the face while I was trying to hold on to her. (Never hold a kicking toddler in a fireman's lift).

She has had everything out of every cupboard in the kitchen today. Dishwasher tablets and Flash. Plates and bowls. Flour, raisins, baking trays. Garlic and curry powder. W's Le Creuset mini casserole pots. Hmm. Miss T is going to be in a lot of trouble when her Dad gets home - one of the pots is now short of a handle. Still usable,but not pretty. Grr.

She has thrown her shoes away more times than I can count today. She left one on the wrong side of the main road. The man crossing behind me says 'Oi love, your baby's dropped 'er shoe over there. I would've picked it up, but.'

I think: But what? But you couldn't be bothered? But you thought it'd be funny to make me cross the road two more times? But you're astoundingly rude? But you're a @*$$*£?

On the last school trip of the day Custard throws a tantrum because I refuse to push him on the buggy. I explain, patiently, that I am tired, the buggy is very heavy and quite rickety with him on it. I say that if I push it I will be too tired to make tea. I am genuinely nearly crying with tiredness. He just shouts louder. By the time we reach school he is purple. I receive many sympathetic looks from other mums. I think quite a few people are having a Kit Kat Chunky sort of day.

It is face painting club day. FHB is blue with black eyes and black and yellow teeth. I take a punt on it: You make a great skellington, I say.

FHB (with quivering lip): I am NOT a skellington, I am a robot. (Sniff). But I am a rubbish robot because I wanted to be a sea monster.

Me: Well sweetie, why couldn't you be a sea monster?

FHB: They ran out of green.

Me: Maybe that's because you've been a sea monster every week so far. Couldn't you have been a blue sea monster?

FHB: No (looks at me as if I'm mad), they are green.

Me: Well let's go home and have a fairy cake.

At home, Miss T shreds fairy cake all over downstairs. FHB is so busy moaning that he needs a straw to drink through so he does not smudge the rubbish robot that he drops his glass on the table and there is a Ribena waterfall. I explode. Then I clean up, Then I go for a quiet moment upstairs and disover that the inconsiderate burglars have visited Mouse's bedroom again. I close my eyes and decide to let it go.

My happy moment of the day came at lunchtime. Cheese on toast with Miss T and Custard. I had some of my Mother in law, Toot's, homemade green tomato chutney. It is wonderful stuff! Custard does not agree.

Custard: What is that?

Me: It's Toot's chutney. Do you want some?

Custard: Bleurrrrghh. (Gets up and dances while singing): CHUTNEY GIRL, CHUTNEY GIRL, MUMMY IS A CHUTNEY GIRL.

This makes me laugh a lot, though, when I think about it, it is Quite Grim.

And now here we are, Kit Kat o'clock. Actually, I am feeling much better. I do not know if that is coffee, chocolate or the catharsis of writing it all down. Maybe it's just that nobody has shouted at me for a while.
I think I'll get on with a hat.

x

Bikes and the beach

An uneventful few days as far as the kids go- just the usual simmering low level violence and continual shouting. Same old same old.  All of which has meant that I have been able to get on with Stuff. Look, my embroidery is coming on- it's not going to be done in time for Mouse's birthday though:

FHB and I went to town to buy Mouse's birthday presents. I have sworn him to secrecy and bribed him with hot chocolate, so I am hopeful.

We also went on a hunt for a tyre for my lovely old bike. In Halfords I say to the lad working there that I need a twenty inch tyre. He directs me to a selection BMX tyres, one of which is snakeskin effect (FHB wishes me to buy this). I say: 'Hmmm, these look a bit heavy for my bike. I don't really know what I'm after. What do I need for a Raleigh Twenty?' The lad's eyes glaze over and I feel very old.

I return home with tyres. W tries for an hour to fit them. We realise they do not fit and I resign myself to taking them back on Monday.

We go to Decathlon to buy tyres. The kids are always a nightmare in Decathlon. They arm themselves with three wheelie baskets and chase each other up and down the isles. FHB disappears for some time and is located in a large six berth tent. Then he finds the skateboards.

Meanwhile, W is looking at bike stuff. We return home with (miraculously) four children, some bike gloves, a bottle and holder, two bike helmets (Custard's makes him look like a mushroom. It's ace), degreaser, and a handlebar. No tyres.

Altogether on Saturday we visited five bike shops. We order the tyre on line and wonder why we did not just do that to start with.

On Sunday, W went for a ride on his new toy:

And we met him down at the beach with a basket of hot chocolate, coffee and hot sausage rolls. (Fresh bread dough, wrapped around cooked sausages, then baked for fifteen minutes. Add condiments of choice before wrapping. We had mustard in ours- yum):

We took FHB's bike down in the car. He wants to start cycling to school, but needs to be a bit better at the basics- steering, braking, avoiding pedestrians- so he had a practice on the seafront while Mouse whizzed up and down on her scooter. Custard ran after his brother shouting 'Come back Obi-wan' at the top of his voice. He's not at all one-track.

It was glorious this morning, chilly and bright. I realise I need to fish out everyone's gloves and get busy making this year's hats.

Miss T has some new boots:

A friend of mine gave me a bag of stuff her daughters have grown out of and these were in it. Miss T is REALLY pleased with these. We went for a wander out onto the mudflats so she could christen them.

We are settling in for a warm and quiet afternoon. W is knocking up a roast, I am planning on crocheting hats (and revising, but mainly crocheting) and the kids, all of them, want to watch James Bond. I realise this is perhaps not age-appropriate, but it is such a rarity for them all to be in agreement about what they want to do that I'm prepared to go with it. I'll deal with the fall out next week- watch this space...

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In which Custard is getting used to school

So yesterday was a pretty good day really. Custard did not yell when he went in to school. Turns out his teacher has given him a 'small animal, what is like a dog, called Fluffy' to look after.

Me: Is it a real animal?

Custard: (astonished): No

Me: What sort of animal like a dog is it Custard?

Custard: (as if I'm completely stupid): A dog.

He clearly had a good time at nursery yesterday. He came home with his bright blonde hair painted an autumnal russett, and the back of his jumper was in the same condition.

Me: I see you've been painting today.

Custard: No we haven't.

Whatever it was he had been doing exhausted him, so an hour later I push the buggy back to school to get Mouse, with Custard perched on the back. I rig up a makeshift seat with my handbag (Making me wince, it's quite posh), and he falls asleep leaning over the hood. I have to keep him on there by periodically kneeing him into position, which is quite satisfying.

An hour and a half later we are back to school again to get FHB. Mouse scoots there in flip flops. Not a great idea. After two tumbles and a good sob, and now missing the toe of a flip flop, we collect FHB, who is TIRED AND DOES NOT WANT TO GO SWIMMING.

On the way home, Custard shows me his arm. It has a large bite mark on it. Still wet.

Custard: (happily): Miss T bit me.

Me: Really? Only there's a lot more teeth in that bite mark than there are in Miss T's mouth.

Custard: No she did, look. (Takes bite out of own arm).

Me: Hmmm. What a shock. It matches the other one. Don't try to get your sister into trouble.

Custard reverts to pulling his sister's hair while she beats him with her Makka Pakka telephone.

At the swimming pool it is all a lot smoother than last week. Except when I try to remove the DS from FHB in order for him to get changed. We will not discuss what he did, but suffice it to say, he has lost DS priviledges for a month.

I decide not to tell W what FHB did either, in case he cancels Christmas. Instead, we head off to the cliff gardens, where W meets us with a large bag of fish n chips, scampi, mushy peas and meat pie. The kids think this is a great adventure and I derive much amusement from listening to W try to get them to Sit Down and Eat Nicely, while they run up the slope as far as they can and then pelt down it, trying not to fall off the ledge at the bottom, chips flying.

****

This morning Custard is persuaded to go into school with the promise of a Kit Kat. He mortifies me by shouting loudly, and many times, that he wants a Fried Kit Kat after school. I worry people will think this is likely (Not lately, not sober, and not for the kids! And we've only ever tried Quality Street).

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The search for The Golden Bowl

Today Custard has had a screaming fit in the playground (what's new?); Mouse has had a screaming fit all the way to school ('I want to go in the car! I want to go in the car! Me: Well, we're here now so that's a bit daft. Mouse: I hate everyone in this family. Well, except Daddy and FHB and Miss T);Miss T slapped my round the face and happily bit me, in the playground at school. I squeaked and tried not to swear; I have made bread with no yeast in it (Doh! [See what I did there?] I rekneaded it with the yeast and proved it again. Long-winded); I have filed my essay (Yay!!!!); and I lost my colander.

Me, holding boiling pan of peas; Where's my colander?

Custard: What's that?

Me: Silver bowl, holes in it. It had grapes in earlier now I come to think of it. Actually, where are the grapes? Ow, this is hot. I could really do with the colander.

Custard and Mouse, in unison, with actions: Miss T did it.

Me, irate: Did. What. With. It?

Mouse: Well, it might be in the garden...

I completely lose my temper. I have been shouted at, kicked in the face, bitten, pinched and slapped. Everyone at school thinks I am a horrific parent. I am exhausted. W is not home for another 6 hours. I want to drink wine. I storm off, shouting, to sulk in the lounge.

Custard, very quietly in the kitchen: Oh no. Mummy bought herself the Golden Bowl for her birthday. It is very precious. We must find it for her.

FHB: You'd better. She's very sad.

Mouse: But it's just a Golden Bowl. Why's she sad?

FHB: It doesn't matter. When a person is sad, they are sad. You must find the Golden Bowl.

Much scuffling and footsteps.

Custard: WE CAN'T FIND YOUR GOLDEN BOWL. WE'VE FINISHED TEA THOUGH. CAN WE HAVE PUDDING?

I sent them all upstairs to continue the quest for the Golden Bowl. I find it in Mouse's lunch box, in the flower bed. Obviously.

And the bread came out nicely too. So all's well that ends well.

I have bought myself a new book :Doodle Stitching by Aimee Ray

I love embroidery, but never seem to feel inspired and I'm not good enough at it to just start sewing with no plan, like my talented sister-in-law and mother-in-law. I have planned out Mouse's birthday card using some of the doodles in this book- I love it!So I'm settling down with a large glass of wine and my needle and threads. I might even get some sewing done before I fall aszzzzzzzzzzzzzz

x

Toast, a Flower Pot, Muscles and Asterix

And so after busy weekend of seafront theme park action, where we lost Custard twice (naturally),school beckons once more. And do you know...it's been a Good day!

Custard resented arriving in nursery this morning, and went purple with the screaming and shouting. I particularly liked the bit where he pulled himself along the floor trying to escape, like some victim in a horror movie. I kept my ears pricked all morning, waiting for the Phone Call from school, but none came! And even better, he deigned to eat at school today, very proudly telling me that he had had Hot Toast!

I feel like a battle has been won.

Miss T has been learning new words. Mouse has taught her to say 'Bits'. It sounds like 'Bix', but Mouse considers it a victory. She tried 'Broccoli', but it proved a step too far. Meanwhile, this morning Miss T proved she could say 'Wall', as in 'Custard will you get down off the-'. Clearly this is something she hears me say a fair bit.

Miss T has also had a run in with a flower pot today. School has a very lovely little garden which Custard tries to destroy every day:

Me: Custard get off the sunflower, it's pretty.

Me: Custard, get out of the flower bed, the flowers are beautiful, don't destroy them.

Me: Custard, get off the damn fence.

Me: (voice rising considerably as other mothers look on smugly): Custard if you don't get off that log you'll knock the flower pot on your sister OH LOOK YOU JUST HAVE.

I remove flower pot from Miss T and reveal a small child with an enormous red snout. She seems quite pleased about it.

In other news, Mouse is responsible for my Big Laugh of the day. Coming home from the shop we walk towards a teenaged lad with his shirt off (It's Essex, the merest ray of feeble sunshine and they've all got their nipples out). In my mind I am grumbling about weasly boys who insist on taking their clothes off, when Mouse shouts in full voice, 'OOH MUMMY, LOOK AT HIS MUSCLES! HE MUST BE VERY STRONG. LOOOOOOOK MUMMY'.

I cannot look, I am laughing too much. I have seen the look on said lad's face when Mouse started shouting.

So that is pretty much the end of our day. FHB has had some post- an Asterix DVD, and they are all vegging out in front of the film. It is making me smile, because I remember watching the very same one when I was about FHBs age. There is something lovely about my son developing a liking for things I have loved. And he loves the books too- falls asleep with his face on one every night.  It makes extraordinarily happy.

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In which I realise I am no longer Efficient

W is working from home today as I am going in to work for a couple of hours this afternoon. The school runs are his all day- Yay! My Dad is coming for dinner and W's sister and her lovely family are arriving too. I realise that if nothing else, the bathroom and kitchen must be cleaned. And I need to go to the supermarket- W is making Coq au vin for dinner.

Today is a day for Efficiency.

By ten to nine I have cleaned the downstairs loo and the kitchen. I am feeling good about things.

At the supermarket Tabby spends her time charming old gentlemen. I pick up dinky chantenay carrots, new potatoes, button mushrooms, red wine and silverskin onions for dinner. I get olives for my niece and nephew. I get all the components for a full Englich tomorrow morning. Anyone see what I forgot to pick up?

At home I show W my shopping. He says the wine (£6.49, down from £13) is far too good to cook with. Well done on the black pudding. Oh good, you got pizza for the kids tea. Erm....where's the chicken?

I am crushed. I have bought all the bits for Coq au vin, but not the coq.

x

A Better Day...

7.40am- Four bears and me walk to school. Fairly spritely.
8.10am- Two bears and me get home. I am a little flushed. Fill dishwasher. Hang out laundry. Change Miss T.
8.40am- Two bears and me walk to school. At top of road Custard and myself have a slight disagreement about him walking. I push him and Miss T to school.
9.10am- Miss T and me return home. Large coffee and a large milk. We have a sit down and she shows me lots of pictures of Iggle Piggle.
10am- Miss T has a good old shout. I put reluctant baby to bed. Write 700 words of essay.
11.50am- Miss T and I cycle to school to collect Custard.
12.10pm- Three of us get home. Custard is very pleased. I am a bit wibbly in the leg department and more than a little flushed.
12.15pm- Lunch. Miss T shreds her cheese on toast all over the floor.
13.10- We walk to school. I push Custard up the slope.
13.35- We collect Mouse. She is upset with me all the way home because I have no more space on the buggy.
14.00- Large coffee. Three bears banished upstairs.
14.50- We walk to school. I force Custard to walk. Feel a great sense of achievement. Even so, I feel as if I am pushing a hippo up the slope.
15.15- Collect FHB. Lose Custard again,though at least he is only up the tubular slide in the playground. He gets on back of buggy. I give up the fight. We walk to The Shop. Mouse and FHB scoot, resulting in one crash with a grumpy bloke; one loud discussion about staying away from the main road; one scooter in the main road; me shrieking like a fish-wife; one suitably chastened small boy.
15.15- The Shop- I load two scooters and four coats on buggy. Custard walks. He and FHB have fight about who carries the basket. I hook basket onto buggy. I remove Custard from half way up the display of Quality Street tins. Pleasant man with two well behaved children comments that I have a lot on my hands. I knock over Quality Street tins as buggy is now so wide I cannot get through the gap. Kind woman appears and hands me Custard's coat.
16.00- Home. I do love it. I make drinks while the kids do impressions of the Crusha milkshake cat.
16.30- A small bout of fisticuffs as FHB and Custard resolve the question of whether to watch The Penguins of Madagascar or High School Musical. Mouse lets the side down by siding with FHB and choosing Penguins. I am now expecting the sky to fall on our heads.

I am exhausted, but it is all good today. I have learnt that:

1- I am not as fit as I was before the summer holidays
2- Miss T weighs a lot more than I thought
3- Custard is Just Too Big
4- Dinner options are limited when all you have in the fridge are courgettes.

x

In which I shout too much

It should have been such a simple, perhaps even pleasant day today...Three children at school for the morning. I sat down to write a looooooong essay on abuse and vulnerability (fun) but Miss T refused noisily to have her morning nap so I spent an hour with her sat on my tummy, hitting me in the chest and forcing me to name, repeatedly, all the characters in her 'In the Night Garden' book.

Receive not unexpected phone call about Custard's behaviour at school mid-morning. Refuse (politely) to collect him early. On collection, he informs me that he has had a nice day, but they took away his shoes when he was on the naughty chair.

Me: Why?

Custard: Well I was kicking the teachers.

Me: Well it seems like a jolly good idea to remove your shoes then.
Make mental note to do that myself in future.

Return to school later with three children in tow, to collect FHB. Lose Custard. Lose my temper. Shout a lot. Custard is returned by a teaching assistant- he has been out on the main road. Realise I am a Bad Parent.

One hour later we are at the swimming pool. FHB shuts Miss T's fingers in changing room door. Much screaming. Takes me too long to notice what has happened as I am trying to find Custard. Extremely lovely lady offers to get me an ice pack. Her husband commends me on how well I'm doing with four children. I feel like a fraud.

Feed bored children sugary stuff, defeated.

Collect Mouse and deposit FHB in pool. I bend down to kiss Mouse and apologise for shouting at her. She headbutts me. I now have a fat lip and a baby with two purple fat fingers.

Spend next half hour trying to alternately ignore and reprimand my children, who are now climbing the dolphin bin. Mouse tries putting her head in it but says it smells. I roll eyes and try to pretend they are not mine. Meanwhile, Miss T pours bottle of squash over herself and her buggy. I strip her and she sits shivering with an ice pack, her legs covered in a wet towel.

On the way home Custard and Mouse have a discussion about whether she is his girlfriend or he is her boyfriend. I quash conversation by informing them it is not really allowed and one day they will want to kiss Other People. Cue a noisy round of  'BLEUUURRRRGH'. They do make me laugh these children of mine.

I leave the computer open to my essay and hear FHB reading aloud. Feel I should stop him, it is not a child friendly essay. Then hear him wondering why I am writing about A Bus. Smile to self.

As I write they are running an obstacle course around the living room. One is climbing the door jamb, another is about to fall off the coffee table. The cat is eating the remains of their dinner. I should intervene...

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Getting started

I've never been very good a keeping a diary, but now, with a large and lively family I find myself wishing there was a way to remember it all. I'd love to write a happy, colourful blog like Lucy at Attic 24, or a thankful, creative blog of wonderful parenting like Soulemama, but I'm afaid that is unlikely! My life is a perpetual school run, with swimming lessons and trips to the beach thrown in; I am in the final throes of an Open University course and have a pathological inability to sit down without a little something extra to occupy me. I have far too many projects whizzing around in my head and far too many things on the never ending to do list. I often have the feeling that I am bailing out a sinking ship- not quite fast enough.

So bear with me while I get used to this blogging lark. I have no idea how to upload photos yet, but I'll get there I'm sure. I'll put it on the to-do list.

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