Soup also comes from pumpkins. Same authority.
They come up with some random things these small folks. Some good, some less good, some hilarious, some downright disturbing.
I may have mentioned before that there are some things, actually a veritable plethora of things, that the all knowing "they" didn't tell you about kids.
I will tell you just a few.
They will treat you as their personal garbage disposal unit. Just used a tissue and filled it with substances contained only in horror films? Yes, let's give that to mum. She'll want it.
Um. No. In the garbage bin please.
They will use you as a human climbing frame. At all times. Not just in private. You may be conducting a civilised conversation with a store attendant and a child could quite easily come up to you, grab you by the breasts and jump, legs straddled around your thighs. It's a good look. Once you get to your third child you can actually continue the conversation without batting an eyelid, surreptitiously removing the child in question at the same time. You just can't be taught these essential life skills.
I found myself uttering the phrase "don't wee on the wall" the other day. I never in a million years would have thought I would have had use for said phrase.
Many things occur in the privacy of our own homes, and we laugh them off, and have a bit of a chuckle. The other day I was having a cuddle with Miss 5. I told her I loved her very much. Actually, I said "I love you so much baby". And she replied "And I love you my mummy" to which I replied "You will always be my baby." Her response? "I'll always be your Furby??" Yes darling. That was what I said. You will always be my Furby. You forget those added little challenges when your children have a bit of hearing loss.
We were at the shops the other day. Not one shop. In a mall. A collection of shops. Many different places for children to say or do things that may or may not be construed as, how shall I say, inappropriate, or, in some instances, completely and shatteringly embarrassing.
As we left one such store, having been through the checkout, Miss 4 and Master 3 carrying on like veritable pork chops, we made it about 10 or 15 metres from the store when Miss 4 quite literally screamed "WE HAVEN'T PAID!!!!!!!" stopping dead in her tracks, a look of absolute horror on her face.
It took all my strength to say to her, calmly, "yes baby, I paid with my card, while you and your brother were carrying on."
"Oh. Ok."
And continue on.
Not without several turned heads mind you.
The thing is this. Some days are great. Some days are horrific. Some days are average.
If all days were great we wouldn't appreciate them so much and we would take things for granted.
If all days were horrific then we would need to seriously take a look at our attitude, because there is always good in a day, you just need to find it. That said, there are some days, not many mind you, that I just wish I had never even got out of bed, because things went from bad to worse and from worse to 'those days they write books about'.
The average days are sometimes good, sometimes bad, because there is a danger of falling into a routine. There are no highs, no lows, everything is grey. And whilst there are no shocking incidents and no massive meltdowns, there are also no jubilant highs or moments of sheer and utter joy.
You know what? I'll take my roller coaster ride. Because one thing is for certain. I simply never know what tomorrow will bring.
And bring it on. I'm ready.
No comments:
Post a Comment