Shxt happens

>> Wednesday, 12 November 2008

Can you tell me a fitting end to a day that has included the following?

A visit from the British Gas engineer because, no, the boiler still isn't fixed, which I discovered at 7.30am - with a window of approximately 3 minutes to make sure we would leave on time to get Boy #1 to school - when the water ran cold on me as I stood under our serving plate sized shower head. Our shower cubicle is not as big as you might expect given the size of the shower head - so there was no escape from the icy jet...

A visit from the painters (and subsequent depletion of our stocks of tea, coffee, sugar, milk and loo roll) to finally make good the damage done to our flat on two separate occasions when the numpty builders gutting the first floor flat in our building messed up. I mean; once, well it happens, but twice? And then to drag your feet over the insurance claim for 6 months? In any case, it's all being sorted now, thank heavens, but as a result the paint fumes mean that my Boys are sharing a room tonight and I can hear the whispering and giggling from here. Any minute now the 'I need the loo!' and 'I'm Itching!' will start, I can feel it...

Dealing with a cross and snotty 2 year old who's been kept off nursery for the second day running due to a nasty cold, and who, due to the afore-mentioned painting of the sitting room, is unable to ensconce himself on the sofa channel surfing for any mention of Chuuuuu-ggington (Chugachugachugachugachuggington!).

Dealing with same cross and snotty 2 year old who is also on antibiotics for a skin infection on his ankle, and who unsurprisingly hates the taste of his medicine with a vengeance, shouting "Don't bend me back, Mama, don't bend me back!" every time he sees me approach with a plastic syringe full of it. (The only way to administer it, I'm afraid, is to manhandle him over my lap and squirt the stuff in, ignoring the screaming and struggling, and waving a square of Green & Black's finest at him throughout as a post-dosage reward. The chocolate doesn't make it any easier to give him the medicine, but it does mean he forgives me for forcing him to take it a little more quickly...)


So, yes, a fitting end to the day?


Here's one; leaving your 2 year old safely strapped into the buggy on the pavement whilst you secure his older brother into his car seat, only to find as you are about to transfer your younger son to the car that he has been using his left hand to remove what he thought were leaves from the top of the rear tyre of your car.

Except, they aren't. Leaves, that is.

It's dog shxt.

And it's all over his hand - the very hand he's using to reach for his raisins....


So, if you were in Chelsea this afternoon at around 4pm, and passed a manic looking woman shouting "Stop! Don't move! Just... stop!" at a cute little boy in a buggy, whilst ferreting in a nappy bag and waving wet wipes all over the place - I guess I've just blown my cover...


Now, I've been tagged by Little Miss Rachel to do two things. The first is to pick up the nearest book, turn to page 56, and write out the 5th sentence. However - I'm in our office. The nearest books are either my husband's study books (think exciting titles like 'Fixed Income Securities' or 'Corporate Finance Theory') or his even scarier collection of 'bloke' books. By which I mean the finest works of Robert Ludlum, Bernard Cornwell, Wilbur Smith etc. All very well if you're stuck on holiday, you've finished your chick lit / educational biographies, and the hotel has no library, but really. This is a mummy blog. I am not going to inflict that on you. Not tonight, at any rate.

So, I'm sorry Rachel; no book excerpt, I'm afraid. (If you want to see a previous post detailing the full horror of my reading habits, check here... Sadly, they haven't particularly improved since then).

The second part of the tag though is to come up with 4 things I value, and 4 I don't.

Hmmm. Only 4?

I could go on for ever here, so rather than that I'm going to treat this as a stream of consciousness exercise and write down the first thing that comes to mind. Here they are then, in no particular order...

4 things I value:

Time off. (This is particularly pertinent to me right now after 2 days of dealing my normally gorgeous 2 year old who has currently been replaced by a willful snot monster...)

Sunshine. (As if - I live in a basement - in London)

Family. (And being a grown-up, and making it work)

Knowing what is the right thing - and doing it.


4 things I don't...

Reality tv (It usually isn't - real - and there's enough of what is in the news and all around me)

Conspicuous consumption (By which I mean 4 x 4's, £20 party bags for children, designer children clothes, £300 sunglasses, increasing your mortgage to buy a brand new car...)

Computer games (read a book, take a walk, get a life. Or, alternatively, live through your blog...)

Dog poo. Particularly today.

18 comments:

GoneBackSouth 12 November 2008 at 23:23  

You and have so much in common. I absolutely share your loathing of dog shit. I'm ashamed to say once I threw away a perfectly good pair of shoes because I couldn't face cleaning the stinking mess off them. Only now it's the neighbours' cats crapping all over our garden and driveway. Once or twice we have got it on our shoes on the way from the door to the car in the morning. AAAAARHHGHHH!

Fat, frumpy and fifty... 12 November 2008 at 23:23  

great post and it shows that though I have shit days, it feels almost daily...
I try and reassure myself SHIT happens...but then not always literally...thank the lord!!
LOL

at least blogging relieves the tension..l hope!

Fat, frumpy and fifty... 12 November 2008 at 23:23  

btw the time states its 15.23 it bloody isn't its 23.23!!!
lol

Expat mum 13 November 2008 at 01:21  

OMG my sympathies. I well remember trying to get two kids in and out of cars and into puchchairs safely. I'm afraid I would have thrown up all over said children if dog shite had come anywehre into the picture. I just can't handle poo. I also remember having to resort to latex gloves with one kid's diarrhea. I know, pathetic isn't it?

sharon 13 November 2008 at 02:42  

I do hope your little snot monster gets better soon. I used to bribe my reluctant medicine taker with a spoonful of jam. Worked every time ;-)

Oh gross! Dog poo, I remember it well, not such a big problem here. It's actually very rare to see poo on the pavements, no unleashed dogs either as they are rounded up by the Shire Rangers and the owners are fined! I used to leave the boys' shoes and the buggy in the porch for dh to clean up. Couldn't deal with it myself. Eventually they learned to look where they putting their feet.

Info for gonebacksouth, we had that problem when we lived in the UK with a neighbour's cats were using our gardens as a lavatory, just sprinkle some old fashioned mothballs around, they hate the smell. I wasn't too keen on it either but it was a heck of a lot better than the cat crap! Also admit to 'shooting' them with a water pistol if I saw them in my garden. Not too keen on cats as you might have guessed, but then my younger son is allergic to their fur...

The Boisterous Butterfly 13 November 2008 at 05:39  

The snot nosed monster is the worst kind of little boy to have right now, I guess, especially with the way he grabs things off tires. I keep forgetting how young and innocent he is and that he doesn't know any better. It all seems like a plot somehow to drive you crazy. Thank goodness for wet wipes, oh yuck!

I take it boy #1 has been behaving himself well lately? There have been no complaints about him and I am rather relieved. Sometimes I get such stress from reading your posts. It makes me pull out all the hairs on my chin.

Mom de Plume 13 November 2008 at 06:06  

Oh no that's revolting. Poor you. Would have been straight home for a bath (him then me)even after the wet wipes. I also can't face dog or cat poo especially where shoes, car tyres and/or children are involved, gives me the shivers! Hope the little chap gets better soon. Also, with a syringe I have found that well monitored self administering works. Was the only way I could get Shannon to take any medicine when she was younger!

Mud in the City 13 November 2008 at 09:26  

Was the Green & Black's a post dosage treat for him or you?

The Dotterel 13 November 2008 at 11:21  

Why is it kids and dog-shxt seem to have a magnetic attraction? (And where does Sharon live - I'm moving there. Hatred of dog shxt soon become hatred of dogs, plus their owners!)

Potty Mummy 13 November 2008 at 11:28  

GBS, re the shoes? Totally justifiable, I think. As for the cats, if it wouldn't add to your problems, maybe get a dog?

FFF, it definitely does relieve the tension. If it weren't for blogging I would have to go shopping...

EPM, not pathetic, a good idea, actually!

Sharon, not many unleashed dogs here either, it's more the owners who think that if their pooches poo on the road rather than the pavement then they don't have to go to the trouble of 'bagging it up' (is there any better reason not to have a dog in town?), but leave it there. Lovely...

Irene, thank goodness. You're right; wet wipes, is there any more useful invention for the modern mother?

Mom, that's a good idea. I might try it - though I don't hold out too much hope, I'm afraid. he's more likely to squirt it over his brother.

Oh Mud, you saw right through my dastardly plan...

TD, so true. I like the idea of a dog, but the reality is just too yuck.

nappy valley girl 13 November 2008 at 11:54  

Don't worry. I am always having days like that.

Word of warning on the antibiotic medicine. Littleboy 2 had a similar one for a skin infection, and because it was pink, I assumed it probably tasted like Calpol. Therefore I couldn't understand why he wouldn't take it. I kept forcing it on him. It was only when The Doctor told me that that particular antibiotic is notorious for tasting foul that I realised...

Six months later and Littleboy 2 now refuses to take ANY medicine, including Calpol. We may have to resort to suppositories...

Potty Mummy 13 November 2008 at 12:00  

NVG, I think they're all foul aren't they? Luckily this one is white, in any case. Just as long as he doesn't start refusing milk...

Guineapigmum 13 November 2008 at 16:14  

A fitting end to the day - a lovely glass of chilled white wine, best stuff of course, while somebody else cooks your dinner. Boys tucked up peacefully asleep in bed goes without saying. It didn't work out like that? No? One day it will, I promise.

Martina 13 November 2008 at 17:01  

Hi potty mum, I'm italian and only a girl (not children yet) I found your blog surfing on the net and I want to tell you keep writing this blog, I love reading of your life and your children even if it seems so different from what I have now

aims 13 November 2008 at 17:30  

And here I thought the Green and Black's was for you! I was positive you were going to say that!

As everyone says - shit happens!

Jonny's Mommy 13 November 2008 at 17:55  

Oh wow. What a horrid week you are having.

I guess I don't feel bad that I'm having one of those days today. Not with family, but my job right now.

Hang in there. I hope the little one feels better soon and doesn't put his hand in dog poo again.

Or any poo for that matter.

Paradise Lost In Translation 13 November 2008 at 20:27  

The only fittign end I can think of is 'conspicuous consumption' of a very large gin and tonic.

Potty Mummy 13 November 2008 at 20:51  

GPM, you're right. It didn't work out like that. But I live in hope!

Martina, thanks for the visit and the kind words, and whilst I wouldn't change a thing (well, not BIG things, anyway) about my life right now, make sure that you enjoy your single childfree life whilst you can!

Aims - you never told me if you liked it? Or are you just being tactful by not giving feedback, and actually you hated it?

J's Mommy, remember? Blog fodder, blog fodder, blog fodder... (and it could have been worse. I could actually have thrown up rather than just dry heaving).

Paradise, vodka, please.

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