The 'gross day'

 Some people won't do anything gross in a day, some people don't do anything gross in a month. I am not 'some people'.

I am a mother of 2 boys under the age of 3 and an 8-year-old stepson. I have a husband who can't, (or wont) clean up after himself and I am also a doggy mama, doggy auntie and doggy sister. All 3 dogs are here this week as I'm dog sitting. Oh the joys. All of this information basically boils down to the fact that gross is a daily occurrence for me. However today has been renamed 'gross day', not very catchy but gets my point across.

It is now 1.40pm and I have already been forced into doing 9 gross things. That is, I believe a personal record, maybe even a world record, (I can't prove this I'm just guessing).


1. I took Mr S’s nappy off this morning and before I could get a fresh one on he bolted. He then proceeded to pee on the bathroom floor, cue me wiping up pee at 6.45am. Great start to 'gross day' I'm sure you'll agree.


2. Mr B had pooped, I say pooped it was more melted chocolate consistency, up his back and into his hair in his sleep. My second job of the day was cleaning him up and stripping his soiled bedding. I'm starting to think my hands will never be clean by this point.


3. I came downstairs singing "things can only get better". How wrong I was. As I said earlier we have 3 dogs in the house this week, who I'm sure are trying to out shit each other! I sorted the kid’s cereal then went out to clear up all this poo. That's when number 3 happened.  I stood in one......barefoot.

4. I proceeded to pick up the doggy presents with poop bags. My finger went threw one. I now know my hands will never be clean. I washed my hands with practically boiling water and as much soap as we had left, it wasn’t enough.


5. The next few hours went really well until I decided to restock the nappy bags, which hubby was last to use. I found one of Mr B's bottles, it had been used and still had remaining milk in. I'm sure I don't need to tell you it’s been warm.  I swear the milk inside was starting to grow and smelt like an unshowered armpit. I enjoyed cleaning that bottle.


6. Someone, I'm guessing Mr S, threw my toothbrush in the toilet. With the day I'm having fishing a toothbrush out of the toilet seemed not so bad to be honest.


7. Mr B woke up from his nap. Basically repeat step 2.

8. Our front door is self-locking, therefore when I take rubbish to the bins I take my key, just in case. Due to the heat and damp we have had recently our bin is like the new cool hangout for every fly in the Manchester area. Put this information together and what do you get. Me taking the rubbish out and dropping my key in the bin. Rummaging through that hot, fly ridden, stinky rubbish was the point I decided today would be known as 'gross day'


9. Last but not least Mr B sneezed in my mouth.


Ladies and gentlemen I give you 'gross day'. Enjoy I'm going for an extremely hot bath and a gin. Not necessarily in that order.
Good day to you x

LINKY'S

Life before Mama Bear

Before I start today's blog I have news. At the ripe old age of 27 I have finally been chosen as a bridesmaid by the beautiful bride to be, the future Mrs Pope. She is an amazing friend and I can't wait to support her when she marries the man of her dreams. Even if she makes me wear a stupid dress with big puffy sleeves in a sickening shade of orange it will be an amazing day. 

Now let's begin what you came here for - today's blog. 

I have been thinking about my life before motherhood and how different it was. Both pre babies and post babies is a brilliant life that I wouldn't want to change for the world, well I wouldn't mind changing the crying early morning wake up calls, but I doubt that's going to change anytime soon. My god my life is different now.........

1. In 2013, 1-year BB, (before baby), I went on a girl’s holiday, well girls and gays, to Palma. It was my beautiful friends 30th so we wanted to do something to remember. we went with the obvious choice of bar hopping in Magaluf dressed as bananas. On the way home I even boarded the plane in my banana ensemble to prevent baggage charges. Here in 2016, 2 year PB, (post baby), I am able to recite all the words to bananas in pyjamas, while peeling a banana for Mr S and combing banana out of Mr B's hair. No bar hopping or fancy dress in sight. But still just as fun.

2. BB I used to quite enjoy going to the bathroom. I'd take my phone and have a scan through the news or Facebook, take my time and then be on my way. PB it is the most stressful thing in the world. I spend 50% of my day cleaning up shit, and yet I can't have one without an audience. A few days ago I went to the toilet, in the few minutes it took me to do my business both kids got into the bathroom. Mr S stood at the side of me demanding a 'cuggle' while throwing sheets of toilet roll at me, Mr B grabbed some shelves to pull himself up, knocked everything off and then sat screaming till I was done. 

3. BB I used to love a bath. I would have it really hot, full of smelly products and it would be very relaxing. PB I can guarantee they will both demand to get in as soon as they hear my toe enter the water. This means it's has to be a comfortable temperature and my lovely lush products have been traded in for baby bath. What was once a relaxing way to end my day is now a splishy splashy family broth. 

4. Something else changed about baths post baby. I had never thought of a bath as anything but a tub to fill with water and bubbles. My my was I wrong. My bath now gets filled with hundreds of toys, assorted loofahs and sponges, empty bottles and a couple of times, I've even had to sift baby poo out, the less said about that the better. 

5. 2 years before baby I spent a night at my sisters looking after my niece and nephew. We spent hours in the garden bouncing on their trampoline. We were wrestling, jumping and doing tricks. It was great. I am not proud of this post baby fact, but it is a fact non the less. PB any sort of bouncing is out of the window. Put it this way, if I take part in the bouncing my waters will break all over again. If you have had a baby, you know what I'm talking about. Note to self – don’t forget your pelvic floor exercises. 

6. BB the thought of someone picking their nose was vile, I would see people doing it and think how in god’s name can you stick your finger up there, gross. Post baby I find myself quite happy to dig my children's nose gold. When I have them all clean, smart and ready to go somewhere, I am not going to let a bat in the cave ruin that perfection. Sometimes a tissue just won't reach those pesky snot balls so my finger will have to get involved. I have a friend who was that irritated with a booger in her daughter’s nose that she ended up sucking it out. She has since found there are handy gadgets to do this for you, but it's a bit late now. 

7. BB my days off were spent lying in till lunch time, then lying in bed for the rest of the day catching up on television. Making sure I was fresh for the night time when the fun would begin. Post baby my days off are no longer days off. In work or not I’ll be woken before 6am by crying and shouting. Then it's a mad dash to get everyone dressed and out for the day before the pre nap time tantrums start. In a way, being in work is more of a day off than running around after my crazy Cubs all day, but I’d still rather be here with them. I just need to come to terms with the fact that I will never lie in again. 

8. Before baby I used to have a wardrobe full of clothes. I used to buy myself a new outfit at least once a week and kept up with all the latest trends. Since my beautiful boys came into my life this has 100% changed. I alternate the same 4 tops and jeans while the boys have a full wardrobe, each. Every time I go out shopping I end up with a new top or outfit for my munchkins, even though they don’t need it, while I rock my Asda finest.... again. 

9. BB I used to use my cleanser, toner and moisturiser every night religiously before bed. Post baby by the time they are in bed and actually asleep I can rarely be bothered. I'm now more of a baby wipes kind of girl. Baby wipes are like the Swiss Army knife of parenting. 

- make up remover 

- clean faces

- clean bums

- clean hands

- wipe down the sides

- wipe high chair trays

- remove stains from clothes 

The list is endless. I still use the correct cleaning products, but day to day who needs bleach when I have Johnson’s wipe at hand.

10. I think the most important change is this one. Before baby I was the best parent there ever was. I knew exactly how everything should and shouldn't be done. Post baby I see parenting in the real world. There is no perfect way to do things as every child is different. I have 2 under 2 and they couldn't be more different. Let's be honest, we're all just winging this parenting malarkey, but as long as our children are happy we be doing a dam fine job. 

Good day to you xx

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Mama bears trip to the hospital

Monday started off well. I went for a walk with the kids, had a look at some flowers, nipped in Asda and bought far too many 'bargains' that I probably don't need. Earlier in the week I had been a bit ill but was feeling on the mend, so it was nice to be out with the boys.

 Later that day my mum had to phone an ambulance for me, I won't go into too much detail all you need to know is I was in extreme pain and I clearly wasn't on the mend. A few years ago my main feeling at this point would of been fear that I was having to go in an ambulance and that there was something wrong with me, however now I have children my feelings have changed. While I lay on the sofa writhing in pain, sweating and crying my only feeling was guilt. Guilt, that my beautiful Mr S and Mr B were having to see their mummy like this, that they were going to see paramedics take their mummy away. Mr S is old enough to understand that something is wrong and that mama is being taken away in a chair, but not old enough to explain why.

 

  Once I was in a&e waiting for results and letting my pain relief take hold I had a lot of time to think. It's amazing how once you have produced little people your thought process changes completely. Pre babies I would have been frightened that I was all alone in the hospital as there was no one to come with me and that there was talk of a very scary lumbar puncture, post babies I was wracked with worry that I hadn't had time to prepare a nappy bag for my mum due to the sudden onset of pain. While the doctor was telling me what they were going to poke and prod next, I was honestly lay there thinking if my mum would be able to find wipes and dummy's.

 Obviously all my worries were unnecessary as super gran to the rescue, handled both of them like a pro, wipes or no wipes. No matter how many times she messages me to tell me the kids are fine and sends pics of them eating and playing I still worry. Worry that my mum shouldn't have to be looking after 2 under 2 for such a long period of time, (hubby is working and they have kept me in), to the point that I find myself bargaining with the nurse for an early release, (I'm aware I'm not in prison, however with barred windows that don't open and a woman who swears more than me in the next bed, I may as well be). So many nurses, doctors and everyone else in uniform asked if I had children, to which my answer was clearly, "yes I have two under two", every healthcare professional gave me the same answer, "well, I can see why your here putting up with that then". No offence intended but I can see why those people went into healthcare and not stand up!

In fact, I told hubby to stay at home with the kids instead of visiting me, that was partly because I wanted my mum too have a break from my monkeys and partly because when he does visit he is a pain in the butt. He literally becomes a child, trying to pull a Moonie at me before the doc comes back in, making glasses out of pill cups. I asked him why he acts this way as he was the same when I was in labour. “I’m trying to distract you from feeling ill”, trust me hubby seeing your butt crack isn’t helping me feel un-ill.

Luckily I'm home now and everything is slowly getting back to normal, although I feel like I've gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson. The boys are none the wiser to my pain, in their eyes I have just been to the shop. In the past I probably would have spent the next few days in bed feeling sorry for myself and enjoying the pain relief. Times have changed. I am having to grit my teeth and smile through the pain while entertaining my boys, I have no other choice, but I wouldn't have it any other way, (well maybe hubby here but the penny's won't earn themselves). In fact, the nurse gave me some sick bowels for my journey home, which thankfully I didn't need to make use of, so that was our morning sorted, a nice sit down activity where mama bear could semi rest, sick bowel hats.

Good day to you x

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