Oops, I’m not really sure what happened to May, but anyway here we are in June. I was going to write out a post last week actually and truth be told it would have been a very different post based on the bits of it I had written up on Wednesday, so although I will pull some of those bits in, this blog will be a bit more cheery than that one was looking.

So, last week was half term. And out half term was definitely a tale of two halves. We did have a fab time at a family wedding the Friday before the holiday officially started- the kids missed a day of school but had a blast running around in the sun. I then worked over the weekend and the first couple of days after that were just very ‘meh’ days. The kids were being shits. I know we aren’t supposed to swear about our children as the ‘hashtag blessed’ brigade start hunting you down with a court order to have your kids taken away from you but honestly sometimes you’ve just got to say it like it is. They were fighting and whinging and the whole thing with Seb’s foot was honestly testing every last nerve. But then somehow we turned it around and the second half of the week was much better.

It wasn’t a quick turnaround though, but things started to get a bit better on Tuesday afternoon. Those who have seen us recently may be aware of the drama that is Seb’s foot or is it his ankle?- you’ll forgive me for not knowing but apparently even the hospital can’t decide which bone it was he broke (I mean you’d think they of all people would be able to give that answer) but anyway- the bottom bit of his right leg is proving to be a bit of an ongoing nightmare. He broke a bone in this region just before his birthday and had a cast on for 3 weeks. We then removed the cast as instructed but sadly there were no other instructions given. We assumed (wrongly) that he would quickly be back on his feet running around- oh how wrong we were. This is the 4th week since the cast came off and he still won’t weight bare. He occasionally does a little shuffle and drags that leg along or a little hop and drag, but the rest of the time he’s getting about on his knees. Don’t get me wrong that boy can move quicker than I can on his knees but oh my god we are very over this whole foot/ankle situation. And yes before I get attacked by a Karen we have been back to the doctors and he has an X-ray booked for next week just to check that it’s actually healed alright. In the meantime though the little Prince is still being pushed around in his sister’s pushchair and going out most places is proving to be a bit of an expedition.

So, the sudden dash up to the doctors on the bus last Tuesday afternoon did seem to break the whinging children syndrome for a short while as an impromptu bus trip always cheers up any child, even if it’s left us hanging in more foot related limbo. The half term stresses weren’t fully wrapped up yet though thanks to the whole ‘getting them anywhere’ problem. On Wednesday (the second crossover day from bad to good) I felt very brave and took all three kids down to the cinema. Although Polly has been a couple of times it was the first time going for both the little two so I had no idea how this was going to go down. We saw The Little Mermaid- it’s actually pretty good, a bit scary in places but all in all I was pretty impressed. Seb provided entertainment by describing Ursula as an evil octopus and Clara carried on her brilliance of not being able to say ‘fish’ properly yet and declared ‘bitch’ multiple times throughout. The problem was I got a bit full of myself and thought I’d squeeze in an errand at the Post Office after this as things had gone so well- too well. The entrance to the Post Office was my destination of downfall. Clara decided she didn’t want to queue up and wanted to wait outside- this obviously wasn’t happening. Now the problem that’s been created by the whole foot/ankle saga is that Clara has come out of the pushchair for big chunks and her little legs aren’t quite ready for this, her stroppy little toddler brain thinks she is ready though. So one minute she wants to walk and then her legs remind her brain that she’s tired but her sassy alter ego has been unleashed and she mustn’t resort to going in the pushchair as she’s ‘not a baby anymore’ so the result is if you put her in the pushchair during one of these meltdowns she will hurl herself forward and come close to throwing herself headfirst out the pushchair. Even strapped in on the tightest setting she’s still an absolute danger to herself. On this occasion though when I bailed on the errand in the Post Office, she couldn’t go in the pushchair anyway as the little Prince was in there so I had no choice but to scoop this screaming wild little fireball of anger up and carry her under one arm all the way home. It was not a highlight of my ‘parenting journey’. She screamed. She hit. She scratched. She even bit me. Each time I set her down to try and talk reason into this little screeching ball of fury though she tried to run back in the direction of the Post Office as she thought they were missing out on something fun by us leaving there. Instead I sucked it up and carried on marching on with this hilarious set up of Seb chatting away in the pushchair, Polly skipping around my ankles and Clara in full blown rage. We obviously got plenty of stares from passers-by and we live in a town with a high proportion of elderly folk who love to chime in with really helpful comments like- ‘Oh someone’s not a happy bunny’. No fucking shit. Good job on your observation skills, would you like a gold star for pointing out that the screaming toddler is clearly not happy. This comment is so incredibly pointless I’ve now reached the stage in my ‘parenting journey’ that I don’t even acknowledge the moron uttering these words anymore and just carry on dealing with the clearly not happy bunny who actually needs my attention at that time.

Anyway it was that evening that I wrote about my slightly more sweary and slightly more rage fuelled post as I was feeling a bit shit about how the week was going. I’ve always been a mum who just loads up the pushchair with kids and a bag and heads out to toddler groups, the park, the beach, wherever and I’ve never really put too much thought into it but now I was starting to doubt my whole parenting capabilities as I couldn’t even run an errand to the bloody Post Office. So I had a bit of a cry and felt a bit sorry for myself. But then I snapped out of it.

I worked all day Thursday, but this meant I had two journeys in the car by myself to recharge. It meant I didn’t see the kids all day but peeking in on those sleeping rascals after a recharge gave me the push I needed to go into Friday with a very different mindset. Friday was a very different day to Wednesday. I bossed it which was just what I needed. The kids had the dentist first thing in the morning and we actually arrived on time to the appointment. They were all superstars in the room (our dentist is an absolute legend which helps a bit too!) and even the feral little one let her look inside her mouth which she’s never done before. We then met up with Pirate Laura and caught the bus to the theme park for a day of fun with her.

Then Saturday arrived and this was a really good day too. It was Polly’s 7th birthday- this has me full of emotions anyway as I can’t quite believe that my first baby is 7! We went back for another day at the theme park with Daddy this time though and he caught me off guard when we were eating some lunch. He said a couple of things about my parenting (unprompted which made it even more special!) that almost made me cry and that was honestly all I needed to complete the reverse from wound up, sad and stressed out Mum that started the week to just normal Mum me who finished the week.

We finished off the weekend with a trip up to the farm where Henry works so the kids could see the cows and we all got an ice cream. It was very impromptu as we were meant to doing Clara’s birthday day out but the place we were going to now doesn’t open on a Sunday (thank goodness I checked before we went!), but that made it all the better and it meant we could squeeze in a little visit to Nanny and Pops’ for a chilled catch up in their garden too.

So, all in all a bit of a mixed bag, they probably ate too many sweets and they definitely watched too much TV, we now have Britain’s Got Talent to thank for Polly naming her cuddly toy ‘Cowell’ as the winner Viggo was their absolute favourite, closely followed by the pants man who is to blame for the kids now shouting “I’m wearing pants” continuously at each other. But we also had a lot of fun and a little epiphany for me just for good measure. Anyway time to sign off now as the big two need picking up from school, I’ll try not to leave it too long next time!