Friday, 30 October 2009

Really? My Child?

Now that my firstborn is in full time school he frequently comes home with his jumper generously spattered with stickers in recognition of his good works and impeccable behaviour.

Obviously I always feel a smug glow of pride when he comes out adorned with stickers while other parents pick up their kids who aren't so beautifully decorated. (No doubt that'll be me next year picking up Eli, he's just not all that bothered about making people happy like our Thomas).

Of course in school I was always the model of perfect classroom etiquette (when I wasn't idly chatting to my classmates and ignoring the teacher of course) so I think Thomas is just following in my footsteps.

The other day as we were collecting his coat I enquired as to why he'd received a sticker of a dinosaur that said 'excellent-saurus'.

"I had the tidiest pile".

"What?"

"When we got changed for PE and had to leave our clothes tidy my pile was the very tidy one".

(Completely bewildered) "Oh, right!"

"Cos some of those kids just are not good at being tidy".

And that behaviour he did not get from me.

But I'm hoping it's contagious because my house would really benefit from a healthy dose of that.

(On a tangent I just barely got around to removing the 'your pregnancy' widget. Imagine my horror when I just checked it only to find I'd neglected it so long it was telling me I was 7 weeks pregnant all over again! I'd rather fracture my other shoulder than be pregnant all over again).

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Tuesday, 6 October 2009

New evidence that nothing good comes from cleaning.

Imagine the scene.

A young(ish) Mother's first day with all 3 kidlets all by herself.

The 4 year old gets to school, clean, dressed and on time.

The 3 year old gets to nursery, somewhat clean, dressed and on time, albeit reluctantly.

The Mother delights in her efficiency and arrives home with 2 week old baby in tow feeling like maybe life isn't gonna be the chaotic existence she imagined after all.

She gazes at her sleeping baby and glances at her watch. She has time to quickly overhaul the house and get things all shiny clean and super tidy before the baby needs feeding then she can indulge in uninterrupted baby time before the 3 year old needs collecting.

Bliss, yes?

Until the part where the completely excellent Mother falls over who knows what bashing her head and fracturing her shoulder.

And that, friends, is why I'm never cleaning again.

(I wish I had it caught on camera because that tumble would be truly hilarious to watch I am sure, just saying!)

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