It is post child bedtime as I sit here writing this post, to the right of me sits a rather large glass of red wine, which if I’m honest I have been looking forward to since about 3.30 this afternoon. If I’m going to be really honest I would say that this is typical of most days. Ok so being even more truthful on some days I have sat at the dinner table gripping a large glass of wine in an effort to protect my sanity amidst a situation similar to feeding time at the zoo. The remainder of the bottle usually sits patiently on the side, waiting for the children to go bed so we can have some alone time.
With three kids under the age of three, the Double buggy was crucial to getting out and about. Braving the town, or anywhere outdoors, with three small children in tow, made one of these monstrosities essential.
I did consider ‘wearing’ the third child (such a crap saying, I was just going to carry him around in a sling) and continuing with the normal stroller, but having been left with half a back and a floaty hip (as a result of SPD – Urgh), I decided that my body had reached its maximum loaded child bearing weight and having found the Tandem Buggy way too heavy, I opted for the Double Buggy to wheel him and remaining children around in.
As parents, guilt is something that we accept as part of the job. It wafts over us from time to time and can often linger like a bad fart. You know the one, when we get consumed by feelings of sadness and regret as we beat ourselves up over our parenting decisions and approaches. It can either give us a kick up the arse, forcing us to step back and assess if something is wrong that we need to change, or it can eat away at us as we question our parental choices and we feel the pressure from what society indicates we should be doing. Or, even worse, the guilt we feel when we fail to live up to our own expectations of perfection.
So, giving in to the kids requests to do some painting I set them up for a bit of creative time in the garden. A genius idea, I thought, as no mess in doors and as soon as the rain came it would wash away any stray paint. Winner. Or so I thought.
Cue toddler and within seconds, this happened.
The toddler gets his face painted. This is the very reason why I often find myself a bag of nerves at the mere mention of messy play or craft time.
This post is bought to you in the spirit of the very funny Brummumummy of 2 and her celebrated snap shots of REAL LIFE WITH KIDS (Click on the badge below and check out some pretty hilarious snaps of some other little darlings)
Sorry about the shameless vote request but needs must….
Amazingly I have been shortlisted for BiBs 2016 (WOOP)Fresh Voice Award and if by any chance this Blog lightens up your day and makes you smile when you probably may have cried then I would be extremely grateful if you could pop over to Brit Mums to vote or you can click on the badge below. Ta xx
(Look at that badge – I’m just proud that I figured out how to do stuff like this – 8 moths ago I didn’t have the foggiest. Go me!)
When I put myself out there for a vote, I never expected that this little blog of mine would be in with chance. I haven’t got a massive following and with three kids constantly nipping at my ankles I never seem to have much time to blog and keep up with the crowd. I’m still getting worried by widgets, stressed by social media and trying not to turn into a ‘twatter’. So for now I’m chuffed to bits just to be shortlisted alongside some of the blogging greats who gave me immense comfort on some very bad days.
SOD THAT of course I want to win!