This morning, trying to get Dumpie dressed for kindergarten, was akin to trying to rope a headstrong rodeo bull.
Shielding all vital organs, I grasped his giggling, wriggling form whilst attempting to reach over and manoever a t-shirt over his thrashing head.
He got away, grabbed his most recent version of a 'light saver' (the remains of a discarded toilet brush found in a junk pile near the beach a week ago) and went hurtling out the open door into the yard - gleeful and victorious.
This went on for the better part of half an hour until I managed to sneak up on him, grab him from behind and wrestle a shirt on. A pointless endeavour as it turns out, for moments later he had undressed and stood laughing in the corner as he whipped the shirt across the room, overcome with mirth. What fun.
Dumpie's N.F. ('Naughty Factor') has risen to an uncomfortable 10/10 I miserably told the husband when we spoke last night on the phone. I think Dumps is taking advantage of his Dada's absence by seeing how far he can push his Mama over the edge. So far it's Dumps 8 and Mama nil.
Every time we go to the beach, I spend a good portion of the time depositing Egg somewhere and begging him to stay put while I chase his little brother up and down the sand, trying to catch the little scamp whilst inadvertently putting on a show for tourists eating at the beach shacks. As I am not wearing a high cut sexy red bathing suit at the time, and at any rate do not possess the assets needed to shift the scene into anything resembling an R-rated mode, I imagine the image is less 'Baywatch' and more 'World's Mummies Gone Mad'.
I really have no recourse but to hold on for a few more days until the husband returns from his motorcycle odyssey - hopefully refreshed, revitalised, and ready to deal with his second-born son who is clearly in method acting training for a role in the upcoming remake of the exorcist.
how on earth did your husband get the motorcycle trip ticket? was it just a case of better to let him go rather than have all of us beaten down? I hope he will come home and let you have at least 2 days of massage, ice cream, alchohol and whatever else you need by then!
ReplyDeleteI suppose it does not matter what paradise you live in, naughty children are naughty children. My number two son is also giving me problems at the moment. It is quite difficult knowing how to parent him as my older son (just 6) is more mature than I am and number 2 is emotional, cunningly lazy and much more macho!! Threatens to kick me when I am ´misbehaving´ ...... and wants to pick up his baby sister and carry her round like an awkward bag of shopping. She doesnt seem to mind but I do.
If I can get him dressed before lunchtime I am proud of myself. My husband is also away talking about films in Cuba .... lucky bugger.
Good luck with the next few days. my man is back tomorrow but no doubt he will be exhausted from his trip and will need to recuperate ..... that is not part of the deal though I have warned him!!