Im back ‘home’ for a week while Doug is away with work. That means I have all my babies under one roof. Its like my idea of heaven. So I decided to have a heavenly Sunday. A family day like the old days. A laid back Sunday with all my favourites. 

It was always doomed. 

The kids asked for pancakes. The pancake recipe is one from Nigella’s ‘Domestic Goddess’ book, so it always makes me feel celestial. It sounded suitable. 

I checked the cupboards for the two essential ingredients: chocolate sauce and eggs. 

No chocolate sauce. 

The kids said it didnt matter, there was honey, maple syrup, nutella, lemon juice, sugar and butter. They said they’d make do. 

There were eggs.  

Fine. 

I told the kids I needed a cup (pot) of tea first. 

No teapot. Doug drinks coffee so Ive taken the teapot to the new house. 

So I had to had to make tea *gasp* in a cup! Its like I’m slumming it like normal earth born mortals. 

Kids moan that drinking tea is taking too long and can they help make the pancakes and why oh why can I not drink tea quicker. 

Finish tea while kids arent looking (making pancakes is always quicker without ‘help’).

Get eggs out of fridge.  

Theres only 3 (i need 6)

I tell kids I will have to go to my house to get eggs. They nod, like they thought as much.

I go and get dressed. (I contemplate driving the half a mile in my pyjamas but I decide I probably need to get dressed anyway).

I try and get in the car. 

Torin insists on coming. 

Hes not dressed. 

I debate in my head: “hypothermia vs speed”. Its a tough call. 

I compromise. 

I put Maddie’s hoody on Torin and put him in the car. 

Go get eggs from my house. 

Back in the kitchen. Get out the weighing scales and the flour. 

Theres no flour. 

I should really have expected as much: Adelaide and Genie have spent the entire 20 hours since we got here watching YouTube videos about making slime and trialing various slime recipes. Most, require flour. 

I plan a surreptitious trip to the local corner shop. I doubt even I can get away with a 16 year old’s hoody and no shoes on a 3-year old in public.

Return with flour. 

Adelaide asks me if I remembered chocolate sauce. I say “no! You said you didnt need it!!” (I looked: they didnt have any). 

Make pancakes. 

Kids complain about how long it takes and can they help which makes it take twice as long. 

Pancakes made. Call kids. 

“Is there any chocolate sauce?” They ask.

Breakfast: done.

Next stage is Llyw’s rugby. 

Its Baltic so check coat has my gloves in it. Cant find my hat in my coat or the car. Search house for a hat. Can find a million baby sized hats but none that will cover my big head. Get side tracked being misty eyed about babies. Decide coat, scarf, gloves and the warm glow my babies give me will have to do. 

Find rugby field somewhere up a hill. 

Realise have forgotten my coat. 

Search car for a solution. My car is my handbag, it has everything in it. 

Discover Genie’s hoody. Hooray! Im saved! 

Genie is a small 7 year old. 

Im a size 16. 

Its snug. But I suppose that makes it warmer. 

I look at my phone until kick off. 

Then I watch intently. If I watch hard enough i might understand the rules. 

I start talking to the other parents. I tell them Llyw has told me that he only likes playing when he wins  and ive told him he should stop playing then. Everyone gasps as if I have said I like killing puppies. Apparently thats not the right attitude to have in rugby. My opinion is: the Play because you enjoy it, play because you like your team mates, play because you want to get better, play for the exercise. I dont care. But if losing makes you unhappy, dont put yourself in that position, because losing, at least sometimes: that’s inevitable. Apparently thats an unusual opinion for mums to have. Im unusual. Its not a new concept! 

I go back to my phone at half time. Then back to trying (and failing) to spot my particular blue, white and red striped teenager.

They lose. 

Llyw spends car journey home moping. 

I offer McDonalds in the hope of lifting his mood. 

McDonalds is packed with parents salvaging children’s moods. 

Llyw tells me to go inside not the drive thru because it will be quicker and he wants to come inside to wash his hands. (He is absolutely caked in mud)

I disagree but he is admant. I park the car and get out. Llyw remembers he has no shoes so will stay in the car.

McDonalds ‘inside’ is definitely NOT faster than drive thru. McDonalds ‘inside’ is slower than a slow thing in slow land because all staff have been redirected to the drive thru. 

A thousand years later get home with McDonalds. This is the first McDonalds I’ve bought since moving out. I will be worshipped. 

Everyone ignores me. 

No one cares. 

Fine. 

Ill eat my own McDonalds then.

Sit down to eat my McDonalds. 

Oh NOW they turn up. 

Of course NOW they need plates and drinks and ketchup and ‘how many chicken nuggets can I have?’ and ‘which is mine?’. Its like they can sense the ‘me time’.

Kids fed. 

(Drama Queen) Adelaide starts complaining that she hasn’t practiced her spellings yet this is week. I say “ok, lets do them now then”. This was the wrong thing to say. This starts a performance of how I never listen to her and that she has told me a million times that she left her spellings in school on Friday and that I am the worst mother in the world for not remembering and she is going to get 0/18 and her life will be over. I remember the spellings are on Class Dojo and so we can practice them now after all (hooray). Oh no, she doesnt want to do them right now, later now would be fine. 

Dinner time. (A mothers life is basically feeding time interspersed with a couple moments of life in between)

Before Doug left he said he bought some stuff for food, so I look at what is in the cupboard. Chicken (but no curry sauce), mince and sauce (but no spaghetti). Of course. 

So Torin, Genie and I went to the other house to get stuff for school and to the shop to get lunch box stuff and dinner stuff. 

I remind them of the new mantra we have when we go to the shops: “no chocolate, no sweets, no biscuits, no magazines, no crisps”. 

They say: “but we need lunchbox stuff”

Wretched flippin’ children. Too bloody clever. Always one step ahead of me. 

Shop done. No. Not without incident. Lots of incident. But Im scarred! Scarred I tell you! 

Pick up stuff from the other house.

Get into (this week) home street. Car seems strange, its clearly something im doing wrong but it feels like it wont go into gear. I do like any normal person does. I knock on my neighbours door and ask them to try and put car into gear. 

Noooooooooooooooooo! 

Not me. Car. 

Ring AA. 

Car is absolutely fine. It just needs a part replacing via warranty. 

Warranty ran out 2 months ago. 

Obviously. 

AA man tows car to garage. 

Have very important job in work tomorrow that requires car. 

Ring dad (doesnt answer)

Ring mum (in Glasgow on way to airport) 
Mum says ring dad on the upstairs phoneline (because whose house DOESNT have a phone line upstairs AND a separate one for downstairs).

Ring dad on UPSTAIRS phone line. 

Start planning a complicated procedure of mum and dad bringing two cars over in the morning, then leaving one, then dad driving mum to work, then getting taxi back home. 

Dad suggests using Mack’s car that is in the drive outside the house. 

Well I suppose that might also work. 

Go back to making dinner. Have bought spaghetti to go with mince and sauce. Make sausages for children that dont eat mince. Start to make white sauce for children that dont eat dry spaghetti (or tomato sauce). 

Theres no milk. 

There was definitely milk left over after pancakes this morning. 

But sometime between breakfast and dinner the milk has ‘disappeared’. 

Send Mack out to buy milk (and cheese because obviously you cant have spaghetti without cheese). 

Call kids for dinner. No one comes. 

Eventually shout individual children’s names. 

Llyw turns up. Hes played rugby today, clearly rugby increases apetite.

Llyw tells me whenever he looked up at rugby I was looking at my phone. Of course. 

While Ive been away Maddie and Llyw have created a rota for walking the dog. I ask who’s turn it is today. Apparently its my turn. Again. (It was my turn yesterday as well). 

While Im walking the dog, my phone rings. 

Someone is at my front door and no one is answering. 

I ring Maddie to answer the front door. 

She doesn’t answer. 

I ring the house. Adelaide answers. I tell her to tell Maddie to answer the front door. Then I ring Maddie again. Adelaide answers again, she says she told Maddie to answer the door but there was no one there. I tell her to tell Maddie that someone has rung me to tell me that someone is at the front door. 

My life is crazy. 

Turns out, crazy is bliss to me.