Mondays… that is all

What I will say before we go on is please join me in celebrating the fact that the boy child slept from 7.15pm to 5.10am and went back to sleep by 5.15am until 7am. Shame the others didn’t, but hey one is better than none! 

Anyway as per usual the children decided they wanted to sleep in. This happens most Mondays yet on the weekend they like to get up at the fucking arse cracking of dawn sometimes it’s not even bloody dawn. So Chris wakes them and they’re all moody as hell (good start to the day there). A has decided she will get dressed at least while R is crying she wants to go back to bed and we are the most evil parents in the entire world for making her get up , dressed , brush her teeth, have breakfast and get an education! G is getting dressed but has forgotten how to put her socks on, B is prancing around naked running away everytime you try get near her with clothes and the boy child is, as usual attached the milk makers leaving me unable to help with the socks, chase B and help R come to terms with how awful we are. So Chris gets B dressed while trying to calm R down who by now is hysterical because “I just can’t do it today” and giving words of encouragement to G about the socks that have now caused Her to start crying hysterically (bearing in mind she’s not even attempted to put the bloody things on just looked at them). 

Finally B and R are dressed while G is still refusing to even try to put her socks on. I tell her “you’re big girl five now give it your best shot if you still can’t I’ll help when I’ve finished feeding your brother” that is not good enough que the crying getting louder. It’s so noisey in my house right now I could cry with them! A brushes her hair , G has thrown the socks, has stopped crying and is now attempting to brush her hair while Chris brushes B’s hair and we are both painfully watching R brush the tiniest section of hair over and over again before she exclaims “all done” haha no, no its far from done! Now normally she is more than capable of brushing her hair but clearly today she can’t Monday! So we try to encourage her and bam more crying.. Chris then offers to do it for her and she agrees. Sounds simple enough right ? Wrong! She then moved away with every swipe of the brush down her hair crying that it’s hurting and she needs a teddy to cuddle. We get her a teddy and she stops crying but is giving it the death grip (although her hair isn’t actually that knotty) I actually am fearing This bloody teddys head will pop off at any moment. Chris gets dressed when he is finished, gives us all kisses and cuddles (I’m sure I can hear him in his brain saying thank fuck I’m outta here for a few hours) and heads out to work as he’s already late. A makes the snack bags up and then proceeds to ask for her phone bearing in mind she’s not brushed her teeth and we are running late and I’m still pinned down by the milk monster. I ask her and R to go have a wash and brush their teeth. Now apparently neither of them can Monday , R is crying (again) and A is sat on the stairs in protest shouting “I hate brushing my teeth, I want my phone, you’re so mean, I hate you, you’ve ruined my life” aren’t eight year olds just a fucking joy!! 

I finish feeding the boy, while telling them it’s fine if you don’t want to brush your teeth or wash your faces, but you will have stinky breath, dried sleepy dust and will likely get tooth ache. I then have a 5 and an 8 year old stomping up the stairs as loud as they possibly can. While R and G are jumping on the sofa , G still without her god damn socks on. I head to get dressed while challenging G to a race to see if she can get her socks on before I can get dressed …. even with a small boy clinging to my legs while I walk and get dressed I still win. Now we are running rather behind so I put her socks on and take her to brush her teeth, she washes her face and I do her teeth for while shouting down to A can you get the coats and book bags out please. Come downstairs look at the time and rush their coats on forgetting mine and take them to school. I’m only aloud to walk them to the gate and watch them in today because they’re far to cool to be walked to the door by their mum! 

Get home realise I’ve not washed or done my teeth neither has B and the small boy is still in last nights nappy (it is only 7.50am so not as bad as it sounds) I make them breakfast and change the boys bum, put some bacon on, then go to wash and brush my teeth while they’re eating . Bacons pretty much done when I come down so I whack some toast and eggs on too. B is now demanding her second bowl of cereals so I make that and start eating my own food, suddenly the cereals are redundant and she’s eating mine with me (it’s taken me years to learn to share bacon) . 

In the 30 seconds it’s taken me to take the plate out to the sink, the boy child is stood at the gate banging his bowl on it, meaning he wants more as I get closer to him I realise why….. A fucking coco pop carpet again 🙄. (That is a clean nappy by the way although it is last nights baby grow) 

 I look at the clock and realise we are still running late, give him and B a pancake each and start dressing him. Why do kids feel the need to run off while you’re trying to bloody dress them! I’m gently saying “come on baby lets get dressed” while he’s squirming off and in my head screaming “for fuck sake child I can’t deal with this bollocks today” (a parents ability to hold this shit in is impressive to say the least!) eventually he’s dressed and happy again i pop his coat on and him in the buggy. I take B up washed her face and brush her teeth. Get her coat and shoes on and now she’s decided she won’t wear her glasses because she’s found sunglasses and she’s cool like that! So I walk to nursery in the rain with a 4 year old that can’t actually see given the fact,  firstly she’s not got her glasses on, secondly she’s wearing sun glasses and it’s starting to rain (thank fuck I remembered my coat this time) 

I get them into nursery and B won’t leave my side but I’ve got to take the boy child into the baby room to feed him. So one of the staff takes her off to the bigger room. I’m sat feeding the boy all of a sudden I also have another small boy sitting on me using me as a seat while he plays haha. Finish feeding the small boy and he starts crying the please don’t leave me cry…Until he sees his keyworker anyway, then he’s like sod off mum I don’t need you anymore! Did I mention he only uses me for my milk makers? I head to the course I’m attending and we had a laugh while there. 

Get home at 12pm wak in thinking right I’ll wash up last nights dishes and this mornings bowls, get bathed, express, eat and go to work… Guess what I forgot about? The fucking coco pop carpet! So I clean up a lot more than I expected , grab a bag of crisps and sit and express while aimlessly scrolling through Facebook not even really looking at anything. I then Have a bath (that was a weird experience it’s just not right bathing without a child or three bugging me) . I get dressed call a taxi and go to work. 

8.30pm I get home and realise how much I’ve missed the small people even though they drive me insane…. a lot . Chris has got them all fed, washed and to bed, the house is pretty tidy (all things considered) and I go to check on them. They’re so bloody beautiful (more so when they’re asleep and not screaming at me). I really genuinely have missed them and my heart just fills with love when I’m checking on them all sleeping peacefully. Reality hits and I get sad that they don’t need me to put them to bed while at the same time I’m pleased they’re not fully reliant on me and are happy for daddy to put them to bed. I get my pjs on and am now sat expressing while everyone else in my house is asleep. 

(I can’t add a picture if R as she has as usual stripped her pjs off and will not have her covers on her for even a millisecond) .. 

Here’s hoping we all get a restful night. Although I’m not holding my breath haha. 

Much love 


Author: workingbreastfeedingmumof5

I am a working , breastfeeding , mum of five. My days are interesting , stressful and hilarious.

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