Two out of three aint bad?

I’ve never been good with vomit or shit, or bogies come to think of it. It seems whatever protrudes from any orifice of one or both my children makes me retch.

Last week I helped with bath time whilst Carolyn popped out. As I lay on my bed urging both children (4 yr old twins) to sing loudly and frequently so I was confident neither had drowned, I sat bolt upright when Ruby stopped singing Let it Go and shrieked in horror. My toe nail clippers flew as I jumped off the bed and landed on my knees in a sea of reptilian toe nails. I could hear Vivien whimpering softly.

I flung myself into the bathroom to see Ruby standing in the bath, tears streaming down her face, pointing her little finger towards Vivien. Vivien sat in the bath looking at Ruby. In the water around her were various plastic toys and mermaids, Peppa Pig boats, balls, bubbles, and a dirty brown turd.

I was in shock and jolted back with my cupped hand upon my mouth. The dirty brown turd was floating alongside Grandpa Pig’s boat, but bits were breaking off and heading towards Ruby, who was shaking and pointing.

I tried to calm her down as best I could, I  hummed Jerusalem loudly and with meaning, I sang Its all about the Base, but to no avail. Misty my faithful yet crusty cat crept in to watch the commotion.  I threw a small box of panty pads at her and she darted out.  I grabbed Ruby by the shoulders and pulled her out. She was slippery and wet, I suddenly thought of an old Whitesnake song I used to love, but this was not the time.

Vivien was trying to push the turd away from her, but the waves from Ruby being pulled up directed the turd back to Vivien. I ran out of the bathroom with ruby under my armpits wrapped in a towel. She still had soap in her hair and dirt on her arms and face. I threw her onto the bed and sprinted back to the bathroom and stood still for a second as I surveyed the picture before me. Vivien sat surrounded by bath toys, a big brown turd, and a scattering of smaller turdettes that had broken away from the mother ship and were heading in Viv’s direction.

I jumped to the left, and then jumped to the right. I looked back and forth. I retched. A turdette had now touched Vivien. She screamed. I screamed. The cat meowed loudly from outside the bathroom.

I pulled out the plug, picked up Vivien and placed her on the carpet. I quickly grabbed a nappy bag and fished out the turd and large turdettes that had attached themselves to the dissolving mermaid, which had not fully dissolved, as it’s a cheap fucking toy from Tesco’s! I turned the nappy bag inside out and the turd fell into the toilet.

Vivien stood soaking in the bathroom as the water slowly disappeared down the plug hole. Small primary coloured plastic toys lay scattered on the bath, some housing small turdettes, others just covered in bubbles. I hosed down all the toys, put them in a plastic bag and binned the lot. I then cleaned the bath.

Viv I noticed had turned blue; she was freezing to death and shaking violently. I put her back in the bath and hosed her down as well. I then washed my own hands, twice, and swallowed the bit of sick that had risen to the back of my mouth.

As I lay on the bed, sniffing my fingers to make sure there was no turd lingering. Viv and Ru lay silently beside me, clean, dry, watching some weird blind girl called Melody and drinking their milk. I could see from the very corners of my eye that Ruby had her finger up her nose. In slow motion, I turned to face her just as she pulled out something so large it wrapped itself around her finger and stayed there. She pointed the finger to me and said, Mama, can you wipe this away please.

Carolyn walked in as I ran out with my cupped hand over my mouth, swallowing quickly and trying not to retch too loudly in her face.

I guzzled greedily from a bottle of Bordeaux that I had kept for cooking. I cared not.

A night of Pooh, bogies and very nearly some vomit!

Some say 2 out of 3 isn’t bad.

I say 2 out of 3 is a fucking disaster.

I’m not in the ruddy mood

 

At 05.30am I was awoken by my ginger ninjas. They screeched and wailed in unison from their bedroom like banshees – I joined them screaming in pain as I found, to my despair, my left eyelid was stuck shut!! I tried to open it slowly but the pain was immense. I swore loudly. And then again. I believe this glue eye is a casualty of the menopause. Along with hot flushes, headaches, short fuse, dryness between your garden of Eden and a whole history of other ailments I won’t go into as it just makes me so ruddy angry!! I sprayed my eye with some special liquid I had purchased from Boots, it had cost me £7 ruddy quid, and continued to try and prise open my eye. Vivien, aged 4, sat staring at me. Ruby, her twin sister ignored me. Misty my faithful yet crusty cat was kneading me violently, her purr deep, her breath foul, and her scabs falling. I flicked them onto the floor, managed to open my gluey left eye and sipped my tea. Vivien was still staring at me. She announced sadly and in a whisper I could barely hear that I was not her friend. I was too old. I hissed, kicked off the cat and went to my bathroom to read Diva. I heard Carolyn scream I’d been on the loo for fucking ages and she was now leaving for London. I was informed, rather rudely may I say, that I needed to dress the children, feed the children, brush their teeth and take them to nursery. I cursed her silently as the front door slammed and sighed heavily. I couldn’t even have a shit in peace these days! Peppa Pig had been replaced with My Little Pony. I could hear Viv & Ruby squealing with delight as they jumped up and down on my bed. I approached the room as Misty shot out like a bat out of hell, eyes wide, tail fluffed up. I went to grab Ruby and trod on one of the wet pull up nappies on the floor. My reptilian toes squelched in their urine and I found myself skidding. I stopped myself head butting Ruby and pulled her off the bed to dress her. 30 ruddy minutes later we are all dressed and ready. I stuffed toast in their mouth. Brushed hair. Brushed teeth. Tripped over Misty. Drop kicked them into the car. Started the car. Turned off the car. Dragged them both back into the house. Sat both on potties. Back to the car. In car and off to nursery we go. At 08.10 I am driving to work. The sky is blue and the day looks promising. And then I hit Reading! The start of the Festival brings in all kinds of people, strange hippy type children who have never heard of America, Cat Stevens or Mr Dylan. Yet they wear the t-shirts proudly. I narrowly missed a dirty looking man with dreadlocks and a vicious looking dog who decided to cross the road in front of me. I had to apply the brakes and as I drove around him I wound down the window and called him a fecking Plonker! Feeling rather nervous and adrenalin pumped I wound up the window and hit the accelerator. 100 yards along the road the traffic light hit red. I hit the deck and made out I was searching for something as the dreadlocked man I had just abused slowly approached the car. I fingered the dirt on the car floor slowly and then hurrah I found an old extra strong mint which I popped into my mouth whilst praying to the Almighty me dreadlock man didn’t recognise the car. When I emerged he was by my window rolling a fag. He looked at me as he licked the rizzla. The lights turned green and the car behind me was tooting. I looked at the man, grinned, hit the volume on the radio and sped away to the sound of the Nolan’s singing I’m in the mood for ruddy dancing. I did not look cool and felt a prat! But I was alive.
I spent the next 20 minutes trying to avoid festival revellers and screaming abuse to all that got in my way. I really did not like Reading at all.  And I dont like Woodley but thats another story altogether.

Toys R Us

Shopping and big girl pants

Today the ‘family’ decided to partake in two of my 127 most upsetting family activities: Going to Reading and shopping. Today we were buying bikes. What friggin joy! After spending over 45 minutes ‘getting ready’ and putting the girls in their ‘big girl pants’ (we are potty training) we piled into the car and headed to Halfords. Picture this: Radio 4. Quietness from the back. A gentle breeze taps my face as I survey the beautiful countryside. And then as my nostrils twitch and slowly expand I catch the stench of shit that has travelled from the back. A pit stop. And we resume our journey. Oh Joy!

I walked into Halfords and decided I didn’t like it one bit. The long and deadly slow walk up the very large staircase to the bike section was a waste of time. Mr Gotmenobrain slowly put down his tyre and shuffled over to us. He smelt of rubber. I grabbed the girls and told them we were leaving. The screams they made as we dragged them down the stairs caused people to stare.

We would go to Toys R Us. As we entered Ruby decided to pee in her pants. We all rushed to the toilets and removed her soiled Peppa pig big girl pants. I stared hard in the mirror as the chaos around me grew louder. And then darted out. It stunk. I told Vivien if she needed the toilet to let us know. She was a big girl now who wore big girl pants. She nodded. We found the bikes. Result.

I took Vivien to pay whilst Carolyn took Ruby back to the toilet again. I watched Vivien play inside the awful primary coloured Wendy houses that I will never allow in my garden. I proudly watched her climb the bright yellow plastic slide and as she slid down mouthed Holy Fuck as I noticed the immense skid mark she left behind her. The smell was causing my mouth to resemble a cats ass. The embarrassment caused a hot flush. I flagged Carolyn and handed Vivien to her. We rushed her to the car. Opened the boot. Realised we had no wipes. Swore. Found some old ones. Closed boot and went home.

I friggin hate shopping, I hate potty training, I hate Reading, and 124 other things I will tell you about in time.

Center Parcs – Tarzan, Piss and Tattooed Grannies

I slept soundly and felt very refreshed. Carolyn had not. Nor had the kids. Today we were going swimming. I dug out my old costume and put my panties over my costume so as not to forget them. Carolyn was still feeling quite ill. The girls were arguing over some crappy Peppa Pig toy and I just wanted to get the fuck out of here. I herded the girls outside and mounted the rickshaw. I fell off. I remounted and off we went. Carolyn rode her own mountain bike. I was a little jealous as I looked and felt a prize prat wobbling through the forest with my ginger ninjas screaming Giddy Up from the back. I ignored the smiles from passing parents and instead picked up pace and headed to the Dome of Stench!

It was busy, kids all over the place, frantic mothers rushing around looking for changing rooms. Fathers wishing they were anywhere but here. Wet floors, humid, chlorine smelling with a hint of cheap perfume. We entered the changing rooms and found somewhere to get changed. We could barely move, we had packed enough bags for a trip around Europe! Our ‘family changing room’ was a hot little shit hole in a cluster of shit holes within a dome full of shits. I so wanted to get the hell out. The girls were crying. Carolyn wanted to puke, and I was having a hot flush. I removed my outer layer and announced I was ready. I walked with my head held high, holding in my stomach, clutching the girls, as we made our way towards the pool. We walked passed a mirror and it was then I realised I was still wearing my panties over my costume! Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!

I held in my tummy and waded into the pool of piss. Children were splashing around me, I pushed passed them to try and get to the deep end. There was no deep end. I swam around the mayhem when an almighty loud Tarzan call came over the loudspeakers. I swallowed a mouthful of warm water as suddenly the pool was full of ferocious waves. I was hit by a tidal wave so strong it pushed me into the shallower end. I wiped away the snot and pulled my costume out of my bottom and swam towards a small cave. Some stairs took me to a hidden hot tub outside. I swam out of the tub and followed an elderly granny into the outside pool, the current suddenly grabbed my ankles and before I could cry ruddy flipping hell I was being dragged down the white water rapids that circle the plaza. I screamed as I was plunged into waters so violent I thought I would drown. Just as I thought it could not get any worse I was thrust down a 20 foot slide and landed with my legs wrapped around the head of the poor granny I had seen earlier. Dear God in Heaven. I apologised profusely. She struggled to get out, I watched and noticed the rose tattoo on her arm. Mmmmmmm I felt no remorse at all after seeing that. Granny’s should not have tattoos! No ruddy way!