I don't know what Egg's school must think. I call him in sick last Thursday, then Friday, he goes to school Monday, and then I call him in sick again Tuesday. Today I've sent him right back again, hoping that his 'play date' with a lovely little French boy isn't cancelled tomorrow, due to his mother thinking Egg is a walking time bomb of maladies. Two nights ago Egg (and Bacon) woke us up in the middle of the night with wailing about an ear ache, so in they piled with us in our bed and there they stayed, kicking and jerking and generally disturbing our sleep patterns for the remaining few hours until dawn.
I feel like draping myself in Kleenex, and i may as well, given that both boys are using me as a human tissue, and all my clothes are covered in mucus, dabs of peanut butter and original graffiti from Crayola magic marker swipes when I'm not looking. It is a shambles. I now pretty much stand about like a bored security guard at the entrance of the kitchen, broom in one hand, wet cloth in another, and a mop at the ready. It's all about damage control - forget 'Home & Gardens'. If only I didn't have high expectations of cleanliness (ask my mother - she remembers me as a three year old constantly sorting her shoe closet to make everything 'neat and tidy') I think i would find it much less of a strain to be living with three very messy boys....one big and two little.
Given that my husband isn't too bothered by potential rodents, and seeing as I find the very thought toe-curlingly horrific, that means that by default I am the one who has to do the final clean sweep nightly around our home, mopping up spills, wiping up crumbs and generally making sure we aren't inadvertantly advertising our domicile as a two-thumbs up destination for discerning yet ravenous rats.
Speaking of rats, little Dumps is now entering that fun stage of hiding various foodstuffs around our home. Satsumas can be found tucked away in the closet or on the stairs, perfectly positioned for an accidental 'splat' as a big person comes racing downstairs...half-eaten sandwiches turn up under the sofa....raisins mix quite happily with plastic airplanes in the toy box.
By the way, our television was delivered successfully yesterday...at last. No doubt my big note taped outside of our door, spelling out the need to press the doorbell firmly and wait more than 5 seconds before scarpering helped. I don't know if it was 'Dave' or not who rang the bell, but I gave him a pointed stare as I signed for the package and a slight lift of the eyebrows. When it comes down to it I guess I'm a bit of a coward and just can't seem to be rude to people...no matter how much they deserve a telling off.
(Okay that's not technically true. Beware Indian telemarketers who ring randomly throughout the day, mispronounce my name and enquire as to whether I might be interested in health insurance. In those instances I find it quite easy to express myself in rather aggressive tones. Another pet peeve is trying to ring my bank and being put on hold for ages, then getting disconnected and having to start the process all over again. I'm never at my sunny best in those situations either.)
However all that aside, I'm in remarkably good spirits at the moment. Egg is back at school and not hyper-actively tearing the place apart in a state of frenzied boredom, Dumpie is having a nap (of the non-drugged up variety so I expect it won't be as long as it has been these last few days!) and I find myself with a few precious moments to spare. What to do? Wax my neglected legs or see to my straggly hair? Hmmm...the choices...