No sugar coating

Today my kids had jammie dodgers for breakfast.

And a cup of tea each. With caffine in it and everything.

Yesterday they had birthday cake with yellow and black icing just before bed.

Three times in the last week they have had chips with their dinner – Tuesday, best viagra chicken dippers and chips; Wednesday, buy cialis pesto pasta and chips and Thursday tomato ketchup…and chips.

On Saturday morning they will most likely watch television from when they rise (before the birds) to about 9.50am when I’ll shoe horn them into clothes and wipe their faces with baby wipes before the grandparents arrive at 10am. We won’t brush teeth as frankly it’s not worth the fight.

We’ll then all sit nicely round the table with Nana and Granddad and have brunch as lovely extended family unit, oohing and aahing over how excellently our five year old daughter has written her ‘sh’ words in her homework jotter and how our 2 year old son’s eratic scribbling with a green crayon on a yellow piece of card is a very artistic representation of a farm. We’ll ladle heavy praise at how wonderful our daughters French pronouns  are coming along,  how our son demonstrated great skill with the tennis racket at his ‘ball kids’ class earlier in the week, and how he is really showing positive signs to potty train.  We’ll marvel at how clean and tidy the sitting room and play room are, and talk excitedly about the itinerary for our winter break in a quaint little cottage in the countryside.

Brunch over, hugs and kisses will be dispensed, we’ll stand sweetly on the front door step like a mini version of the Von Trapp family and wave breezily with wide grins on our faces until Nana and Granddad’s car is round the corner and out of sight.

When the front door is closed (slammed), our son will most likely pull of his trousers and nappy in quick succession and pee on the hall floor. Then splash his hands in it.  We’ll move the small corner unit from the hallway that was covering up the green wax crayon and give it yet another going over with a soapy cloth to see if it fades anymore.  We’ll ask our daughter to find an eraser and remove the word ‘shit’ from her ’shop, shoe, fish, show and ship’ list in her homework book.  We’ll ring my friend to see how the bump on her sons head is going down after being rattled with a tennis racket. We’ll give the kids the lurid coloured, golf ball sized lollypops we promised them for doing such a good job of stuffing all the toys wildly scattered across the playroom floor into the toy box and lifting all six cushions from the sitting room floor and putting them back on the sofa in an orderly fashion at 9.58 this morning, whilst mummy ran to the bin with three empty wine bottles that were gracing the kitchen table.

The television will go back on and probably won’t go off until Strictly is finished, and then, over a glass of wine, we’ll give some long hard thought to just exactly what the hell we’re thinking we’re doing going to do with two wild kids in the freezing rural Highlands for a weekend in December.

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Comments

  1. ;0) Love this! At the moment I only have a ten month old daughter but you have given me an insight in the joys that are to come! Lovely to have found your blog!

  2. Super Mummy says:

    Thanks Charlotte, love it when new readers find their way here! I’m hoping you don’t give your 10 month old birthday cake with yellow and black icing…..yet?! Thanks for commenting, and do come back soon. X

  3. Michelle Twin Mum says:

    Sounds like just a regular weekend to me! Mich x

  4. sounds like a perfectly normal family life to me!

  5. Super Mummy says:

    Funny, more and more people tending to agree that this is all normal. Phew!

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