Lying in bed in a very rare deep sleep I’m woken by the sound of my number three quietly coming into my bedroom. “Muuuum the babies are in the spare room throwing dads tools around” Great!!!!!!! 5am even better!!!!!!
The hubby gets up, crisis averted. Everything easily tidied up, the last time the gruesome twosome got up to their dastardly deed they painted my bathroom floor as well as the boys newly built castle/fort bunk beds.
Husband and kids all settled back to bed the house fell quiet for all of 20 seconds, the baby was obviously lulling me into a false sense of security and started to wiggle and squirm,
OK let’s get her fed then I might catch an extra hour or so, where’s her bottle. There was a pre made bottle by my bed. Had I fed her and completely erased it from my memory, had I been in that deep a sleep the husband woken and fed her (very unlikely it’s like waking the dead waking that bugger up). Then there it lay, the evidence, on my bedroom floor a tiny pink bottle lid off completely empty. One of my little tinkers had snuck in like a silent assassin and drank the evidence, quietly polishing the milk off and sneaking back out quiet as a mouse without waking a single person in the house.
Luckily the baby settled with her dummy, even she couldn’t muster the energy to actually wake herself up, at twelve weeks old even she knew it was going to be one of those days.
I was woken approximately an hour later “muuuuum the babies have painted the bathroom” with what?!?!?!? Where do they find these things?!?!?!? We checked on them they were asleep, when did they wake up?!?!?! How did they get past us all?!?!?!?! My questions went unanswered when I saw my pristinely white bathroom suit with grey paint splodges all over it. Luckily a packet of baby wipes and some elbow grease later it was back to normal although the same can’t be said of my shower curtain.
The whole house was now awake. The husband had to go out to buy more baby milk so I was left with “muuuum he’s just done this” “mum can I have some wewtabix” “mum she’s just called me Olga” “muuuuum” “mum” “mummy” “mamma” “LA LA LA” “mum can I have a drink” “ding ding ding mummy I jumping” (yes on my newly changed bed I’d literally just made) “mamma pooooood” “mum I’ve got bad blood” “mum can I hit Oliver” oh my Christ deep breaths I’m going to EXPLOOOOOOOODE.
“WHATS GOING ON” OH thank you dear lord, the hubby is back. Everything stops. Everyone literally freezes, daddy is here!!!!!
Daddy can stop the kids in their tracks within a split second, they stand up take notice (highly likely because they all know he’s their main dealer, their Sweetie dealer, late night stay up dealer, the one who will barter with them to meet in the middle who sneaks them biscuits if they play by the rules) quite clearly I don’t have the same authority.
Peace is restored, I’m casually lying in bed feeding the baby, the kids are all getting dressed (in a fashion) and the hubby is boiling the kettle. I love days like these, when the chaos of first thing disappear and calm and peaceful is the atmosphere for the rest of the morning. I’m not mentioning what the afternoon may bring because that could be a very different story, but for the time being I relax into a tranquility that may not last very long but it’s here for the moment at least.
Purdey makes 6 Xx