Today I was admonished by my son for being a 'naughty girl'. This was because I had said the word 'stupid' and that is a 'naughty word' (though not nearly as naughty as some of the words he's been using lately - but i was trying to make a point so confessed to being naughty...big mistake). All day long he's been calling me a naughty girl and has taken to shaking his finger at me as he does so, pursing his lips in indignation.
Truth be told i have raised my voice a few times today, and have been told off for 'yelling' each and every time, though I have had to deal with several episodes. For example our handcrafted side table is now coloured pink with indelible marker - as is the back of our living room door (whoops - should have thrown them out when Jay brought home the £2 art set from East Street Market with the likely toxic and definately NOT washable markers...URGHHH!)
The coins in my purse have also met an untimely demise and have been buried for the rest of all time behind our kitchen cabinets which have a tiny crack between the wall and the cupboards and I reckon there is enough small change back there now to start a wishing well. Speaking of wishing, I wish Egg wasn't going through his naked period. He now changes his own nappies, and they are liable to be found anywhere. It's only when a sickly smell is noted and you call him and he runs toward you sans trousers and nappy that you realise yet another gross game of hide and seek is in progress.
Today our cleaning lady Dorota announced that she is pregnant and will be leaving us soon - but she kindly offered to send us her kleptomaniac Polish mate instead (she came with Dorota once and stole my sisters hat). I declined. Great - now I may as well just give up and turn our flat into a giant funfair amusement park for Egg and Dumpie.
The term threadbare is now taking on new meaning as Egg has begun ripping out giant threads from our carpet in long, deliberate strips. It looks terrible and we can't seem to stop him. One day i'll wake up and the floorboards will be exposed....i just know it.
I'm now desperately counting the minutes till jay gets home. I'll confess that i've been a naughty girl then dash to the bathroom where i'll soak in a too-hot bath and wash the day away. I smell like part toilet and part baby sick and no amount of hastily sprayed perfume is going to conceal that. Must dash - screaming infant to feed before he pukes up all over me (again) thus rendering feed pointless. Tra-la-la-la-la-i'm off to the loony bin...tra-la-la-la-laaaaaaa