what it would be like to have three kids under 6?
I'll give you a teeny tiny insight.
Let's start from this morning shall we?
*undefined time*
Miss 4 hops into bed with me and proceeds to crawl under the covers. Some time later she kicks the covers off. With great force. Then turns around and punches me in the face. Asleep. Her. Not me.
*approximately 6.15am*
Miss 5 comes in. "Muuuuuuum. Is it time for breakfast?"
"No."
"Can I turn the Christmas tree lights on please?"
"Yes baby off you go."
Please let her stay out there and put the tv on.
She comes back in. "I turned them on!"
"Good girl, well done. Why don't you go and watch some tv?"
"OK!" and off she runs.
Then I hear Master 3 get up and start walking to my room and then I hear a thud as he walks into the wall.
Yes. Again.
And so he comes over crying and I lift back the covers. "Come on mate, hope in here with me and have a cuddle."
"I've done a poo."
Great. So up I get, and go to change him. May as well check the time and whack the kettle on while I'm up.
6.20am. Fabulous.
So I go back to bed. Miss 4 is everywhere. All over the bed. This isn't going to work. So I go back out to the kitchen and boil the kettle again. And then as I take the first few sips of coffee I remember I was supposed to get a blood test this morning and wasn't supposed to eat or drink anything.
Oops.
So the morning started well. We buzzed around madly, everyone got dressed, shoes and socks on, ready to rock n roll, bags packed and out the door 15 minutes earlier than usual. WOOHOO!! AND we had to because Miss 4 had an excursion today.
So as we are driving to school I tell all the kids what a fabulous job they did this morning, and how by them doing as they were told first time they were asked really helped me and I rabbited on like nobody's business. Because, well, they did well.
We got into the kinder room at daycare. Master 3 decided he would start to become a little sad.
That wasn't the worst of it. He reached towards his eye in a mock rub kind of gesture. But he had his finger out.
As he put his finger directly into his eye I involuntarily shuddered and my neck and shoulders became instantly tense. I then watched and listened, as if everything was in slow motion, as the howls commenced and the tears flowed as Master 3 complained, rather loudly, about his sore eye.
And after about 5 or 10 minutes of my trying to calm him down he then complained of a sore head.
When I explained to him that his sore head was only sore because he was crying about his sore eye, which wouldn't have been sore if he hadn't have poked himself in there in the first place I don't really think he understood.
Now by this stage it was 8.40am. Miss 5 still had to get to school.
And so I left poor little Master 3 sad and crying, which I hate doing. And yes, as I found out later, he had stopped not long after, which he always does, but it doesn't make it any easier leaving him there.
So off to school we went. Walking up to Miss 5's classroom a teacher handed me the jumper she had lost 4 days previously. Score! As we walked into the classroom I was handed the hairbrush that she had left at a diva birthday party several weeks earlier. And to crown off the joys, her water bottle which we thought she had lost was sitting on the table in her classroom.
And so Miss 5 got herself organised and then I walked out the door, alongside the windows, waving at Miss 5 all along the way, as she walked along the inside of the room along the windows waving at me, and as we got to the last window we blew each other kisses.
I don't know if other parents and children do that but I tell you what, I love that Miss 5 loves to do that. And I'll do it until she is 18 if she wants me to. Because she is my baby and I adore her and I always want her to know that.
I'm fairly sure she does.
And to think. All that happened before it even struck 9am……..
The evenings, well, I won't go into detail. I will say one thing though. Miss 5 went to her school bag when we got home and pulled something out of it, putting it less than stealthily behind her back.
And she came up to me, stood in front of me, beaming, and handed me a stick.
I could see her hands were full and I asked her "Did you fill your schoolbag with sticks?"
The response?
"Not my WHOLE bag."
Of course. Silly me.
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