Mothers, know your limits...

Aah, Mondays. Don't you just love them?


Husband rushed off to Mother Russia first thing, and this was my morning until 10.00am:

6.45am: Got myself out of bed, washed and as presentable as it is possible to be on too little sleep and a surfeit of wine from 2 days prior.

7.10.am: Got 2 boys dressed and in the correct outfits, dealing with 'My short's are too rough, mama!' from Little Prince #1, and demands from Little Prince #2 that I reconstruct the lego airplane he had just smashed. I would have, but since it took Husband 3 hours to build the thing in the first place, and since I had only a window of 5 minutes spare in our morning schedule, I thought it was a little ambitious to begin at that moment...

7.30am: Organised breakfast for the three of us, making sure to:

a) give correct bowls to correct Boys to avoid an outbreak of warfare
b) limit number of toys Boy #2 takes to the table
c) capture Boy #2 on his way to replace the toys I have removed
d) find and put Boy #2's socks back on

7.35am: Spoonfed Boy #2 his breakfast, since otherwise we will be at the table until lunchtime


Looking quite civilised so far, isn't it?


7.40am: Spoonfed Boy #2's sinister stuffed cat (taking up valuable table space) it's breakfast, since apparantly all cats eat weetabix, taking great care not to get food on it's whiskers as this will prompt crying and protestation. Not from the cat.

7.41am: Get food on the cat's whiskers. You know what happens next.

7.42am: Wiped mouths and faces (though of course, I forgot my own).

7.44am: Supervised Boy #1's toothbrushing.


This is where it all starts to get a bit frantic...


7.46am: Captured Boy #2 from his hiding place under the table and brushed his teeth.

7.47am: Wiped both sets of mouths and faces again.

7.48am: Retrieved and replaced Boy #2's socks, requested putting on of shoes.

7.50am: Found school bag and coats

7.52am: Requested putting on of shoes.

7.53am: Insisted on putting on of coats.

7.55am: Retrieved and replaced Boy #2's socks.

7.56am: Insisted (loudly) on putting on of shoes.

7.59am: Shepherded Boys out to the car, remembering on the way to pick up school bag.

8.00am: Once Boys safely buckled in, went back to house to re-check front door locked. (As ever, it was...). Unlocked it anyway to pick up school bag left inexplicably inside.

8.02am: Drove to school, dodging mafia-black 4x4's on the way and telling myself not to take Boy #2's request to stop singing along to the radio personally.

8.15am: Dropped off Boy #1, dealing with horrendous return to 'don't leave me, Mama!' form, not handled very well on my part, and feeling dreadfully guilty as a result


And - relax....


8.35am Arrived home with Boy #2, put on today's washing, sorted yesterday's and started the dishwasher. Made the beds, completed a much too brief tidying up of the flat, and whilst glancing in the mirror, realised I had toothpaste attractively decorating my mouth...

8.55am: Retrieved and replaced Boy #2's socks.

9.00am: Took Boy #2 to the shops complete with scooter (dismantled and stowed in the back of the buggy approx. 20 meters after we set out).

9.30am: Peeled his sticky little face off the front of the glass cake display cabinet in the bakery, and hoped nobody noticed the smears (or indeed the croissant he manhandled before I removed it from his grasp and put it back in the basket...)

9.35am: Wheeled him home whilst inhaling a skinny hot chocolate (today, I deserved dairy...)

9.40am: Bribed younger son back into the flat with the promise of a Baby-cino. Husband normally makes these for him, but I figured I was up to the challenge.


9.55am: When I delivered it to him at the table, he sampled it and said:

"Baby - chee - noooo. Not. Like. Papa's."


Well, that told me...


And if you fancy a laugh (and an explanation for this post's title) watch this Harry Enfield and Paul Whitehouse sketch:

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=MMb8Csll9Ws