Sunday, September 28, 2003

Sunday evening, and peace reigns - tenuously. Sons no.1 and 2 have had their swimming lessons, whilst I splashed aimlessly with son no.3. We've had tea. The ear-splitting echoes of a major five-year old tantrum are still ringing in my ears (he hit his brother, who was understandably mad at him) - but all is now quiet. And a schoolfriend of no.1 son is coming across for a sleepover. The delights!

Meanwhile Long Suffering Spouse has gone across to Auntie bearing a sponge-cake. I had to fill it with butter-icing - I've gone and used up all the jam. See what I mean? I'd never make a housewife.

Earlier this afternoon, I tried to post an interesting piece of info on a work-related website earlier, but kept getting an error message. What could be worse? You try to go over and above the call of duty on a holiday weekend, and something in cyberspace stops you doing it. I'm annoyed - having found something relevant, I want to share it abroad. Humph, and humph again!

Hey-ho, better go and tidy up before the little visitor arrives!

Saturday, September 27, 2003

There was a time, when I was on maternity leave with Son no.3, that my husband had an Aussie visitor - a bachelor of indeterminate years, I hasten to add. He spent at least half the evening preening himself, and liked the sound of his own voice. I might as well not have been there - apart from cooking the meal and ensuring that the merry sounds of three little boys didn't intrude on the evening's entertainment. At one memorable point in the proceedings, he smiled benignly, and (as though he was cracking his own special joke) called me a frustrated housewife.

Me! Who only ever took the minimum maternity leave because we needed my salary. A Housewife?

Public holidays serve to remind me that I wouldn't even make a very good housewife. I cook, and clean, and iron, organise hairdresser's trips and clean out goldfish bowls - all the things that any sensible person would do routinely, but I stuff the whole lot into one action-packed weekend and then wonder why it hasn't felt like a break.

Yesterday I cooked diligently - Scotch broth for Aunty, bread rolls, apple crumble ...

We invited Aunty across to tea, and had the satisfaction of watching her devour the lot with gusto (which goes to show she doesn't feed herself properly). And then once Aunty had been taken home and Son no.3 was in bed, I went and did the weekly supermarket run.

Once home, it was all I could do to summon up the energy to put it all away in the right places.

I've just been told (by Son no.3, the only one around downstairs) that it's teatime. I'll get no peace otherwise ...

Thursday, September 25, 2003

The September weekend! This contradiction in terms is a public holiday in our part of Scotland. Eureka - I had to take a day's leave because the boys are off school tomorrow (Friday) as well as the official Monday. Four days off - can't be bad.

But tomorrow morning, first thing, it's the trip to the hairdressers'. These days, I take the boys early in the morning. I've done so ever since an embarrassing visit about a year ago when they were really wild and got right up the nose of a stuffy elderly gent!

Wednesday, September 24, 2003

Life is just a whirlwind of fun these days. Two birthdays (and two parties) in the space of a fortnight (that's what you get for carefully planning your family of three children, two and a half years apart...), not to mention supporting my husband in looking after his elderly auntie. Alzheimer's is a cruel disease. Now she can't shop for herself, doesn't remember when to eat, forgets that there's soup in the pan ready to heat up ... who said old age was graceful?

Hubby is a brick - going over nearly every day and sorting out a myriad of small but essential details. I cook. She came across for lunch on Sunday. I sent soup back across with her. Made a quiche yesterday - there's a note on her kitchen table reminding her to eat it, as she won't think to look in the fridge. Social Services are on the verge of setting up more domestic help, and it can't come soon enough. I can cope with being a working mother of three, but cooking for an Aged Relative as well is a bit of a responsibility.

Now I must get back to patching school trousers. I haven't decided which of my three patented techniques is the best yet!

Wednesday, September 10, 2003

What a life! I'm loaded with cold, my nose is blocked, and hubby's printer is jammed. Everything's just going fine! I looked up "exhausted mothers" on Google and found Top 10 Deadly Thoughts
This is on a website called Mom to Mom Chat. Haven't come across it before, but I'll return to it. Repeat after me, We Don't Have to Be Perfect. And again, all together now ...

My youngest son had a screaming heebie-jeebie of a tantrum at bedtime today. He's FIVE, for God's sake. It means the tantrum can be louder and the kicks more powerful. Keep calm? Walk away? Nothing worked! Maybe Mom to Mom Chat will have some useful advice about that, too!