RANT - We both work, even on the days that I am not at work, I am up at 6.45 having successfully and yet in a friendly way; with a slight promise of later (yeah right!) avoided the HAND creeping over to my now crinkly nipples which face my toes. Downstairs; I put ds milk in microwave in my clean and tidy kitchen (by me me me), whilst putting on the first of the days washing and unloading the dishwasher at the same time, somewhere the kettle is filled and switched on. I then plump the cushions in the sitting room, lamps on, turn milk on and then go upstairs to wake, change and cuddle ds ready for breakfast. Ds toddles off and sees Daddy, who says in passing to anyone who will listen to him 'Well ... I really don't know how I am going to get through today' - he works 8am - 4pm OK?. Whilst he seems to take forever scratching and washing, I have made our bed, opened the windows, and sprayed our sheets with something lovely, smelly and extravagent from Jo Malone(which I still have not owned up to buying yet - why?).
And so it goes on, with me in the shower, hair face etc, then ds washed and dressed, another load of dishwashing on, tumble dryer on, toilets bleached and taps wiped (anal), we're off to Waitrose, back at 11 ish and I am so hungry I could eat whatever the cats have left - OH GOD the cats - forgot to feed them - oh well, ds joins me in the Utility Room and ... shoes in the toilet, and .. yes cat's water poured all over floor. Quick check on Tumble Dryer, and another 30 minutes should render contents totally un-ironable. Now to unload car, and avoid angry dirty cat protest left on gravel in driveway, having remembered that they got me with that one last week.
Finally its play time, and ds and I cuddle and kiss and dance to whatever is on the CD stack providing he can hold the remote control, at this moment I am thinking that I can dance like Shakira to 'Whatever, Whenever' all the while remembering the olden times and that day in 1985; when I looked good with only lipgloss and mascara and how its changed ever so; also glancing at myself in my large self indulgent mirror - thinking 'I am not that bad you know - good arse for 37', music stops, he has had enough its time for 'Thats Not my Tractor' and Wheres My Quack? x 5 reads each with voices. The Phone goes, ds falls down the one stair into the kitchen (crap mother thoughts flash briefly) all the while promising to call police back as I have found out the insurance details of blind man that hit my car on Good Friday on my way to work in afternoon (4pm - 2am shift - thank you!)comfort ds and go against all pre preganancy principles and he gets a chocolate button before lunch.
Lunch - I am not even going to continue, as I am so worn out with reading this durge as no doubt you are. I think that my point is made, I do have high standards but so do all of us, and my lovely husband; and I do mean that most of the time simply does not have the remotest inkling as to what half a morning entails prior to lunch and still I havent put the shopping away or had a whole cup of tea. And then its off to the Childminder to drop ds off at 3pm, ready to be picked up in an hour by dh, who has been known to say, 'I do hate having to rush off and leave work sharpish to pick the boy up'.
Having said all of the above he is so brilliant with our ds and they adore each other and I fade away in their company which is fine and lovely to see.
Walk a mile in our shoes boys. Oh god the cats ...