Mama said there would be days like this

I have been wondering of late if things have just been sent to try me, or if I have somehow fallen under some sort of curse.  Yes, a bit dramatic, but the stress that life seems to be laying down at my feet is really starting to grate on me.  I know that on the whole I am very lucky to have my lovely life and some people might say that these are not really problems as we do have food in the cupboards and a roof over our heads, but seriously, this stuff is stressful!

stress intervention

I finally understand all of those parenting memes about needing wine to cope with life.  I didn’t get it before because the children were too small and had not formed an assault team of destructive and disgusting behaviours to test me with.  They are fully on it now though.

For those of you who read my blogs you will know that we are in the process of moving house.  The house that we currently rent is now being sold so we are having to try and pack with two children and two dogs around as well as accommodate people coming to view the house and work too.  We move in twelve days, I am not very far along with the packing because we use everything.  This has been bubbling away in the background of my mind making me freak out at night time and wonder if I should be packing the airing cupboard instead of sleeping.

Having to keep the house super clean and tidy whilst this happens is also not amazing and almost impossible with my feral little darlings.  Eldest child has mastered the art of potty training, he doesn’t tell us when he needs to go though, he just gets the potty and does his business.  If it is a number two he then assumes the downward facing dog position whilst shouting “I done big smelly poo!” until someone comes to wipe his bottom.  This system is great if I am in the room.  I am not however always in the room as I must get pesky things as meals made, laundry done and other cleaning tasks such as changing beds and cleaning the bathroom.


Youngest child thinks the potty is her own personal play pool.  I run every time I hear that the potty has been used, praising the wonderful use of the potty, but unless I am ninja fast I am often having to change her entire outfit and clean the floor as she has had a jolly lovely time splashing/squishing about in her big brothers effluence.

Today I created a lot of stress for myself and the potty party that happened afterwards nearly pushed me over the edge.

My car needed to go for its MOT today (hooray, more money spending!)  so Lovely Fiance lent me his great big truck to drive so that I still had transport (He really is just super lovely).  We dropped him off at work and then headed to a friends house to pick her up.  Everything was going really nicely.  I reversed onto the driveway, I had my foot on the brake and was slowly backing on, doing less than 5 mph.  I reversed into the house.

Yes, that was not a mistype. I REVERSED INTO THE BLOODY HOUSE.

It was a very light bump.

The car and the window sill that I bumped did not seem to care that it was a virtually stopped, gentle tap (the truck weighs about two tonnes) and both decided that they would break.

I got out to investigate and expected to see no damage at all……

broken light

It took all my strength not not sit down on the driveway and cry.  It is my fault, I was in charge of the truck, there is nobody to blame but me, what a silly idiot I really am.

I swiftly found out what year and model the truck is and ordered a replacement part (£60 of course because why would that be cheap), went to buy glue to glue the crack in the window sill back together (UPCV should glue back ok apparently) and tried not to do all of the swearing in the world.


Then armed with a roll of sellotape set about trying to cobble together the pieces of broken light so that the truck could be driven to have the replacement light put in tomorrow when it arrives.  The window to the living room was open so that eldest child could try and pass toy tools to us and do helpful things like hitting the broken window sill with a toy hammer while singing the Bob the builder theme tune and saying “Daddys car is a jigsaw Mummy!”

Can we fix it? Yes we can!

Well, not really actually…..

fixed light

Brilliant friend who was helping to hold shards of broken tail light in place as I wrapped lots of sticky tape around them and then later got covered in glue helping me stick the window sill back together, went in to check on the children (as the window had been closed so that no more “help” could be offered by eldest child).  She came back very quickly saying that there was a Mummy only issue that needed my attention.

It was poo.

So much poo.

Not a nice solid kind of poo, but an enormous, wobbly, sloppy gelatinous one.  And it was everywhere, hands, feet, face, floor, toys and eldest child is there in his downward facing dog position, bottom pointing at me waiting to be cleaned up.

This was the point where I wished that it was allowed to starting drinking in the middle of the day while looking after children.  But it isn’t, so I cleaned it all up (I did throw some of the toys in the bin, they were not favourites and beyond saving) I steam mopped the floor and started the internal body clock countdown to bedtime.

What a wonderful day off work.

On the plus side, my car passed its MOT no problem.  Lovely Fiance said that he might accidentally drive it into a wall on his way home, but other than that seemed to take it quite well that I had used his truck as another way for us to potentially lose our deposit on our house.

Now the children are tucked up asleep, dinner is bubbling away on the stove waiting for the ever patient Lovely Fiance to come home and I am going to pour myself a very big drink.  I think I have to otherwise I am going to start worrying about what joys the universe has in store for me tomorrow!

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