Hello Monday! Today marks the beginning of What could be a potentially an ever so stressful week. We are hoping to achieve the impossible! The mountain of House Jobs piling up around my ears is eye watering. I have absolutely no hope of getting through even the top 5, so I am now prioritising the absolute essentials that need completing/attempting before the party. As its safety first, I am endeavouring to fix the patio. I currently regret inheriting the gene I have from my ever so talented Poppa Bear aka The Bicycle Repair Man aka Bob the Builder. If Poppa can’t fix it, no one can! But very annoyingly, he is mid-build so Dora the Explorer (ie me) is having to lug exceptionally heavy tiles around, whilst YouTubing how to grout. This is not something I have attempted before, but I am going to add it to the exceptionally long list of things I have learnt how to do considering I married an accountant. Ten whole years ago on Thursday! Wowsers trousers, I cant work out if my astonishment comes from being impressed or down right shocked we’ve survived this long!

Trying to fix the aforementioned damn patio of ours is driving me up the bloody wall. I really had hoped that somehow a miracle would’ve happened and the patio magically fixed itself over night by some lovely little fairies. Alas there isn’t a fairy in sight. Consequently there is a handful of broken nails, scuffed knuckles and knees and an escalation of my life long hatred of sand in my fanny shoes.

The twins first residential was by all absolutely bloody brilliant. They came home scruffy, smelly and a little bit disheveled but beyond happy. It was an absolute joy to pick them up, I would even go so far as to say I missed the chaos. Although the quiet was nice, it was too quiet. Admittedly some days it feels as though we live in a complete and utter constant state of arguing and disarray, but it really can be amazing having such a big family.

Thing 2 wanted to take his football kits (plural because really he loves rugby, but wants to fit in at school so has different kits to aid him in that quest) away with him. He came downstairs playing for Valencia, and when I shouted explained he shouldn’t take them for fear of them never returning, we were very close to a melt down. “But EVERYONE is wearing their kit Mama” er no they are not Joshie Boy, because as much as the class WatsApp drives me insane (if I have a sock that doesn’t belong to me Susan, I will send it back into school, I don’t need a 46 message conversation/debate/interrogation regarding sockgate) it did prove useful in confirming not one person was going in a footy kit. Mama 1 Josh 0.

Monday morning drop off today was such bliss, three super tired ratbags delivered to school, kept quiet and entertained by the amazing Harry Potter audio books we are devouring through out the year. It makes for peace and quiet rather than WW3 on our journeys to and from school. And as I have never read any of the series (you see there was at least ONE person in the world who didnt know what a Muggle was) it’s actually really addictive. Stephen Fry narrates them and its just ace. On our homeward bound journeys we have a quick download of vital info, like what they had for lunch, did they eat their snack, did they successfully spell all the words I only get right because of auto-predict and primarily, did they manage to not scrap with anyone especially the child belonging to Susan. Synopsis complete, on goes HP, yep I spend my life talking to people less than a decade old, and we are transported to Hogwarts in the blink of an iPhone app.

Sadly my friends, you Dumbledore will have to wait for further wafflings as my schisel and piping bag full of grout (bloody genius I am) are calling me to action and as I don’t think my expired Public Liability Insurance for Baked Goods will cover me in the event of a slip or fall, I need to get away and continue fixing the bolloxed patio, please don’t rain. Send fairies,

Helen 🖤

%d bloggers like this: