Perfect mother, perfect wife?!

So, I started the day determined for it to be one of those days when I got it all right.  A rare breed indeed.  Following Tom Hodgkinson's idle parenting guidelines, while my husband went off to work, I let the kids play together in my daughter's room and I slept in till 10 am relatively blissfully, bar having to shout "shut it!" and "stop fighting or you're getting punished!" a few times over the monitor.  I find this sleeping in business makes for a much better mother over the course the day and I try to do it at least twice a week.  Whenever I can, I keep Tuesdays and Thursdays as pyjama days.  We lie in, take some time for cuddles in bed and perhaps a story or two, then I throw a tracksuit on, brush my teeth and it's time for brunch.  Anyway, I digress.  Having had my lie in, I got a couple of loads on, tidied up, fed the kids, cleaned up the aftermath and took them out to the park.  I even found time to unload the dish washer, wash the pots and prepare supper!

Needless to say, I was feeling rather pleased with myself and after having got the kids to bed at a decent hour too, managed to spend a relaxing evening on the sofa with the old hubby.  When we finally prised our asses off the sofa, I commented to him that for once I felt as though I had actually managed to be the perfect mother and the perfect wife for one day.  His response: "you would have been if you'd taken me to bed earlier and shagged me!"  There's no pleasing some people and while it may be possible to be the perfect wife and the perfect mother (it's not, but one can dream), one thing is for sure, it is impossible to be both those things on the same day.  Good, now that we've established that, I can stop trying and re-read the Idle Parent!

By Mummy Dearest

Sexy knickers!

I think my son is going to be to watch around the ladies when he's older.  The other night I'd been out to dinner and worn my favourite pair of sexy knickers.  God knows why I reserve these for nights out, because on the rare occasions we manage to muster enough energy and enthusiasm to go out, we inevitably come back too late and too shattered to put the said sexy knickers to good use.  However, as these outings are so rare and such an occasion, I get to wear these same knickers virtually every time.

The day after this evening out, my son, age 3 if you please, notices these knickers in the laundry and picking these black lacy, see-through numbers up, looks them over admiringly and says with much approval, "ooh, these very nice knickers mama."  

It's moments like these that make you smile and remind you that if nothing else, kids have a gift for making you laugh  ...and scream and cry in equal measures of course!

By Mummy Dearest

The 'flicker'...

Apparently, I'm now known to my friends' kids as the 'flicker'!  I wonder whether they have nightmares and wake up holding their ears?

I think I might try ear-flicking the dog next.  I tried counting to three with her today when she was being a bit defiant.  Can't say it worked.  Have to keep reminding myself that although she is our first born, she is actually a dog.

By Mummy Dearest

Ah, maybe I'm getting it right after all!

The other day I called a friend on her mobile and after a muffled response I worked out that she was probably at the cinema.  I mentioned this to the kids who were having their breakfast and my five year old daughter comes back with, "what's a cinema?"

Given our efforts to date to keep them away from the big box and the bigger screen for as long as possible ...definitely one of my proudest moments!  

By Mummy Dearest

Smug bastard

This afternoon my husband announces the kids are having an omelette for supper and I'm cooking it. "Why?"  asks my daughter.  My thoughts exactly as I sat back on the sofa reading my pile of ancient Sunday Times magazines which I was finally making some inroads with.  "Because we have to let mama think there are some things she makes better than dada does," came his reply.  "But you're a chef dada, I would think you'd know how to make an omelette.  You're supposed to know how to make everything," interjects my wise and wonderful daughter.  That put the smug bastard in his place!

Twenty minutes later, I promised to fix a new toy which my son had just received for Easter and had inadvertently broken.  This bearing in mind that a bag of toys and various other odds and ends which need mending or gluing has sat in my storeroom awaiting my attention for almost a year!  Anyway, this latest addition to my pile I intended to fix right away as it was a fairly simple job and the poor thing had only acquired it an hour earlier.  As usual my son brought me the offending item while I was trying to have a sneaky five minute read on the loo.  Normally I would have admonished him and sent him packing, but I couldn't resist the tears in his eyes and the quivering lip to boot.  I had to hug him and promise to fix it as soon as I was done.  Ah, there is a soft side to me after  all!

My five minutes up, I realise that it's late and I'm supposed to be preparing their supper, so I get stuck in.  "Hey!" I hear a tiny voice behind me say, "you meant to be fixing my stethoscope."  "Sorry my love, I got distracted."  "You always get distracted ....always, always," pipes up my daughter.  "Doesn't she dada, doesn't she?"  "Yes, she does" says their father sniggering gleefully.  The smug bastard gets even!

By Mummy Dearest