Oh, Monday

"Hey beautiful," that's how my Monday started.

It's 7 AM, my alarm is ringing, and ManFace is right there. Like, RIGHT there. Right in my face.

I groan something incoherent, probably along the lines of "urgh. Coffee. Now," shut off the alarm, and doze again until the alarm sounds again at 7:05 AM. FINE. I'M UP.

The kids have been up for what seems like an eternity. I somewhat remember Bear coming in in the small hours, asking to go downstairs to be replied with my usual "when the sun comes up." (Note: For any parents out there who have kids up and it's still dark, this works a treat!)

7:15 AM: kids and ManFace are downstairs, I'm still pissing about upstairs, the usual mum thing: Opening curtains, turning off lights, and MY usual checking to see if Spud's bed is wet. This has become a bit of a heart stopping moment for me. It's both a ball ache constantly washing bedding, but I also know it's something that can't be helped. It's what you would call a "Catch 22" I guess? After his bedding being washed and put back on last night, I was really, REALLY not looking forward to having to do it all again today.

I pulled the cover off. HE DONE IT! HE BLOODY DONE IT! ONE DRY BED! I practically punched the air with joy, skipped downstairs, and burst into the front room pointing wildly at Spud—looking back now, the look of horror in his face, he looked like he was in trouble, sorry buddy—and went, "hey.... Proud of you!" It was when he heard these words, his face changed from one of worry to the biggest smile, pride even, that he had managed to stay dry and on the first day back of school he isn't going to go in feeling like he's upset me... Don't get me wrong, I know, I know, I KNOW it cannot be helped and he WILL grow out of it (eventually), but holy crap, it's so, so draining! Mentally. Trying to figure out if there's anything bothering my beautiful little boy, if something is upsetting him that only comes alight in his subconscious... but no, as far as I can work out, and that I know, he is a happy little chappy—got the smarts of a room of top smarties, he's just a lazy butt!

7:30 AM: ManFace is ironing—yes ladies, there are men out there who aren't afraid to use the big steam machine... you just gotta train them—and the boys are scramming breakfast. Overall, things are running pretty smoothly for a Monday!

7:45 AM: Bear ventures off to go brush his teeth and get dressed; this is a rare thing for him to do without prompting, leaving me to wonder what he's after or has done wrong...

8 AM: Both Spud and Bear are dressed, teeth brushed, and washed faces. THIS IS GOING TOO WELL! ManFace and I have been able to have two coffees this morning; this almost never happens. He has a rare day off today so we are very much looking forward to a relaxing day of nothingness.

Forward to 8:25 AM: Almost time for Spud to leave; this is where it gets a bit tense:

• Book Wallet ✔️
• Bag ✔️
• Water Bottle ✔️
• Coat ✔️
• PE and Footie Kit ✔️
• Pencil...

"Where's your bloody pencil?! It was here last night, they don't just vanish?!"

Both boys denying profusely that they had nothing to do with said pencil being gone. It's 8:30 AM now and I really could care less.

Bustle Spud out the front door, cheerfully treated by the lollipop man. I don't have time for his cheerful bullshit, so I politely smile, watch Spud cross the road, and head back to the safety of my house.

Today, Bear and I get the added treat of ManFace being home so we can be super lazy and catch a lift. Bonus.

8:40 AM: We head out to the car. "We should have walked, I don't have much fuel." Wait. What. You knew this last night when you got home, ARE YOU SHITTING ME?! That's my internal monologue. I take a deep breath and say we'll walk to get him this afternoon, seething at the revelation of not enough fuel.

8:50 AM: Give or take, drop the Bear at school, ManFace and I practically skip out of the playground back to the car, letting out THE biggest sigh of relief that our little lovable shit bags will be out of the house for a full six hours. Six glorious hours of watching what we want to on TV, eating all the good snacks without "I'm hungry" 50 million times after they've just had a slap up lunch that looks like something you'd get from a round-the-world buffet, because no one could decide what they wanted and to be frank... I couldn't be arsed to mediate the rigmarole or it all!

So that's it. It's 13:35 PM.

ManFace and I have literally done nothing—apart from general housework—and it's been amazing.

Wonder how this evening is going to go and what mood my little family is going to be in...

Nootsxoxo