Problems at Home

Long time, no write. It’s been a weird few months in the world and to be honest I was finding it hard to laugh at the shit like I usually do. But I’m still here and I’m glad you are too.

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We’ve all had that bad day that turned into a bad year, which bled into another year which had a global pandemic in it, right? Yeah you with me.

My comforting/motivational mantra at the moment is ‘all any of us can do is the best with each day’. There are certain advantages to being unemployed and trying to hold on to money. Like catching up on the housework you never had time for and having ago at ‘stay at home’ parenting. It turns out that the parenting and the housework are at odds with one another.

It’s surprisingly difficult to be excited about the one room you just got clean when it’s taken half the day. You’ve had to stop two times to watch Mr 4 poop (scared to be alone), 5 times to see something Miss 7 has ‘made’ (needs constant validation) and 3 times to make said children snacks.

When I say Miss 7 has ‘made’ something, what I mean is a mess. These kids mess at 100 times faster than what I can clean. Getting them to clean up their own messes involves a stand-off, some tantrums, a time out and occasionally some bribery. It’s just easier to do it my damn self.

Of course doing anything by ‘my damn self’ is pretty much impossible at the moment. Not content with taking up my every waking moment, my eldest has taken to sneaking into my bed at night. When she’s worn me out to much to resist it. By that time Mr 4 is usually in there as well. So the other night there were 4 of us in a queen bed. Miss 7 was clinging to me as to not fall out of bed. Mr 4 was clinging to me so as not to disturb his father. Thanks son.

I kid you not, I can not even go number 2s by myself. The other night, I’m in the ensuite for an extended visit. Let’s just say isolation eating and lack of movement has led to…difficult movements. So there I am, straining with tears running down my face, asking Mr 4, who’s asking me what bugs like to eat, if he could please give me some privacy.

I have never been so happy in my life to suddenly notice an empty toilet roll next to me. I’ll give him a job to do! Thankfully Mr 4 is thrilled to go find me some toilet paper and is gone for ages!

Not so thankfully it is not my 4 yr who enters the bathroom with the toilet paper. No, as I’m still straining, leaning back with one knee clutched to my chest, my husband bursts through the door, looks me in the eye and says ‘here’s your toilet paper’. Well played Mr 4, well played.