OK, well after resisting this for as long as I could, I have been inspired (read, poked until I gave in) to give this blogging stuff a go. It probably won't be very interesting, but it'll kill a few minutes, and hey, haven't we all got BUCKETS of time waiting to be filled?
Today probably isn't the best of days to start a blog, as full of violence and bad language as it was.
Hooked you there, 'eh?
Well, let's start with last night... you'd think at 15 months The Babe would be sleeping through, but you'd be wrong. She does normally, but then she'll have a night from Hades and I'll be in bits. This was such a night. You should also know that any tiny little bug goes straight to her core and heats it to inferno proportions, so she was burning up with fever all night - nothing actually *wrong*, no cold, or stomach bug, or even teething, just a temperature that let me turn off the central heating and bask in her glow.
Well, Himself woke up this morning, stretching and scratching... (Why?? Why do they itch when they wake up? I don't itch when I wake up!)... glanced across at me and The Babe, asked how her night had gone. I said "She had a crap night"... in my defence she is 15 months old and the older two were asleep so I thought I could say a bad word! Well, actually, I didn't think at all, it just slipped out ... anyway, she's going around singing "crap crap crap"... I keep saying 'quack' at her when she says it, so hopefully it'll morph into duck sounds soon.
Then this evening, Thing Two was having a few hair issues... Oh, I suppose I should mention I renamed my children. They are now called One, Two and Three (Three is also called The Babe, just to clear up any confusion). They thought I was joking when I told them this, but I can't keep them straight otherwise and call them by each other's names. I can keep 30 kids names straight in a class room, but forget the ones I actually gave birth too. There must be something Freudian in that but damned if I can see it.
So, Thing Two is having hair issues. They were playing in the leaves at school today, and she had more bark in her scalp than the tree had left on its trunk. So I combed out her hair... her Rapunzel-esque, long blonde hair, and she tossed it around and fluffed it and shook it and generally made like the Timotei girl (oh boy I'm aging myself there). It was so beautiful and so tempting and so the babe grabbed it and hugged it and twisted it all up for her own. Poor Thing Two was on the floor almost, so we made like nice parents and we distracted the babe, and untangled her, and petted Thing Two and generally brushed (geddit?) the incident over, and walked away.
And as soon as my back was turned, the babe went for it again! Nice parents dissolve into shrieking maniacs and, well, it wasn't pretty.
The Babe is very cross that we are now ignoring her. She goes screeching into the dining room, grabs a towel that I have, in my perfect housewifelyness, left there just for this purpose and not because I'm slovenly, throws the towel over her head then pulls it down and shouts BOO! And then cracks up laughing.
I tell you, the inside of my cheek is raw from chewing to stop laughing, raw!