Tonight I had every intention of blogging about what a bleurgh day it was. Toddlers were whiny and clingy and, at storytime at the library, I became THAT mother - the one the other mothers don't even want to make eye contact with because her children are so badly behaved. When there are only three other mums in the room, one of them across a very small table at which our children sat, it's pretty obvious.
After the stories, during which Pearl and Stella got up and down a thousand times each to grab various books off the shelf, all the while chatting and singing in full voice, the 'craft' session began. Pearl was wielding her glue stick like a maniac, and screaming every time I tried to take it off her and encourage her towards the pencils. She even squeezed in a full-body floor-writhing moment, complete with wailing and screeching, until she got her way. The woman across the table smiled at the table, the floor, the top of her child's head. I've never seen someone concentrate on helping colour in a bear's scarf so intently. Anything to avoid having to look at that mother, the one with those children.
But no, I thought, I won't blog about that. Instead I'll blog about how, having gotten all three girls into the bath last night, I left them playing happily and thought I'd quickly fill the sink to wash the pots and pans. Suddenly, an ear piercing scream, and two, maybe three children wailing. It was hard to tell. "PEARL'S DONE A POO IN THE BATH!!!!" I raced in to find Pearl half in the bath and half out, screaming. Lola sitting on the edge of the tub against the wall, screaming. Stella, sitting in the swampy water, a brown smear across her shoulders, screaming. It took 10 minutes to empty the water, scoop out the sh*t, wash out the bath and refill it, all the while holding two hysterical, soaking wet, poo-covered babies as Lola, from her lofty perch on the other side of the tub, repeated, "I DO not like this. I do NOT like this."
No, I won't blog about that stuff. I'll just show you what we got up to yesterday afternoon when it became obvious the rain wasn't going to stop any time soon. Dirty water of a different kind.
You have a lovely way with words ;) Sounds like a tiring day, but the playing in the puddles looks like great fun :)
ReplyDeleteGreat photos, shame we didn't get one of bathtime ;). I know that mother by the way, it's me!
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad you blogged about all of that! I'm sure it was not quite as funny in the "living" as it is in the "telling" but it gave me a good giggle this morning.
ReplyDeleteNow I've stopped laughing, I cam tell you I too have been that mother, have fished a poo out of the bath and also had one of them try the poo to see if it tasted nice.
ReplyDeleteGotta love mothering!
Hope today was / is better. x
Oh....see now you've made me spill my tea from laughing!! Hope today goes 'swimmingly'!!
ReplyDeleteHA HA HA HA HA! Oh, I have also been THAT mother, and i have also dealt with some dirty water. Motherhood is the most glamorous job in the world. LERVE this post!
ReplyDeleteHa Ha, I've been there way too many times to mention. I'm sure you'll hear those screams again before your bathing duties are up!
ReplyDeleteOh Greer, thank you for making me laugh. Seriously, I'm sitting here giggling. I'm giggling, because only last week, I had the exact same thing. Except that neither of them told me about it, and they'd been playing in it, 'washing' in it for over 15 minutes!! Yuk, yuk, yuk! And, don't worry, I'm always one of those mothers. What a gorgeous post. Oh, and thank you so much for mentioning me in your last post. It really did make my week. I told Graeme and it made us both smile. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteOh thank you for this hilarious post (: My husband just said, was that you laughing? What are you laughing about? And I had to read the part about the poo in the bath and the responses of your three girls. He laughed, too. I remember several poo in the bath incidents in our home, too...and could have used your light-hearted attitude when tending to them (:
ReplyDeleteHaha! I AM that mother, or rather was until my 3 year old boy grew into himself. He was the pushing shoving hitting child, and big for his age. Which adds up to just fantastic.
ReplyDeleteAnd I also have a stunner of a poo story. Felt like I was having an out of body experience.
Anyway, love the blog!
i'm not laughing AT you greer, laughing WITH you. promise. though I am sure there was laughter in sight when cleaning up poo smear from the tub.. and rest easy, we have all been THAT mother at one point. even the one with the first class colouring skills x
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