I'm under the bed...

Shhhh, it's Friday morning and I'm hiding from the children. I'm dreading the day ahead, they are all at a particularly tricky stage (meaning between birth and leaving home)and to be honest, it's bloody hard work and I'm finding it all too much. So I'm taking the adult approach and hiding under the bed.
To be honest, I don't know how long I will get away with it. Mr D has to go to work in a minute and unfortunately they are savvy enough to look in the most obvious place (it's not the first time!).
Now, where are those jammy biscuits I squirrelled away last time?

Dirty Girls

The time has arrived when my gorgeous girls are on the move. As adorable as it is to see my wee urchins scuffle around the floor (at last it’s finally being polished) it is also an untidy mother’s nightmare. A few years ago, my husband bought me some saucy fridge poetry with words such as gusset, lick, engorge etc. As the kids can’t read yet, it has given us endless amount of amusement of a morning. But, I have a feeling it’s about to all go terribly, terribly wrong. The beast is learning to read at school (dammit, I knew I should have sent him to the drug dealers school after all) and keeps bringing me words and asking what they mean. For gods sake, how do you explain the definitions of ‘pendulous’ and ‘scrotal’ to a four year old? And even worse, how do you prevent him from using his new words at school?

The girls are getting in on the fun too. I found a ‘clit’ in Lola’s mouth last night and Nancy is often found salivating over a 'nipple' before popping in her mouth. This is uncannily reminiscent of when the beast was the same age and kept picking words off the fridge to give to his grandmother. She almost had heart failure when her darling grandson proudly gave her a ‘pussy’ and a new ‘vagina’. Sadly, I think it's time for our saucy love poetry to hit the bin.

The time has come...

Yes, it's the Beast's first day at school today (proper school that is, not just paid daycare which we called school to instil some sort of discipline into him). The past four and a half years have finally come to fruition and my boy starts full-time education today.
He looks adorable in his grey flannels, red shirt and shiny black shoes and the all-important popular cartoon character lunchbox, he is ready. I myself, am prepared with hankies (for the inevitable tears), sweeties (incase I need to bribe him to leave me)and my husbands credit card (well, us girls have to do something whilst the boy learns)and off we go the 150 yards down the street to school.
Arriving at the gates and the leg-clinging begins...'get off mum, I need to go in!' he says.
Waving my little lad off and suddenly I feel very grown up. My first child is at school, well done me!

‘From the mouths of babes’

How does his mind work? My boy, who is generally a complete beast, often surprises me with his absolute hilariousness. When I asked him what he thought we should buy for his sisters’ first birthday, my little guy replied, ‘a great big, fat wolf.’, ‘A great, big fat wolf?’ I replied, ‘Are you sure? Do you not think that they would prefer a teddy or a trumpet?’ ‘No’ he says ‘They have told me, they said they want a great big, fat wolf and a lamppost and a big lorry and a great big giant as well.’ Well, I had better get down to Argos then hadn’t I?

Am I being a bitch?

I'm away on a press trip for five days in July and my husband and mother will be looking after the gang in my absence. Now, don't get me wrong, I appreciate their help whilst I'm away, but since planning the trip everyone and their dog have offered to help Mr D. 'Oh, you poor lamb, how will you cope? I'll bring over a casserole!' What about me? For the last seven months I haven't had any help at all? Where's my bloody casserole?

The five nights in a five star hotel in the sun will make it slightly easier, I s'pose!
Still....

My Lovely Ladies

My girls are such darlings. They are just learning to smile and it is amazing. I now spend my days throwing myself around the house in a somewhat comical way inorder to get a smile out of them. Armed with hilarious wigs, hooting noses and a unicycle, I will stop at nothing to make my little princesses laugh. It seems the years at the Billy Smart University were not such a waste after all!

Boot camp for babies.

News Flash...'Neonatal units all over the country are producing armies of well-behaved infants'

This twin lark is a piece of proverbial p***! Nancy and Lola are now four months old and are little darlings. Thanks to Dame Gina Ford, my ladies are in a very respectable routine, up and milked at 7am, back to bed, up again at 10 quick milky snack and back to snooze. They go to bed at 7pm, have a lil drinkie again at 10pm and that's it for the night. How bloody brilliant is that? Sorry to all you first time mothers out there, I was one once you know, and my boy (now 4) STILL does not go through the night.
Is it because they are girls? Or twins? Or perhaps it's because of the nazi routine the neonatal unit instilled in them which has carried on at home? Whatever it is, it's working and my life has regained some sort of normality.

Another day in the life of a busty mother of three.

Wine! Where's the wine? What do you mean Majestic doesn't deliver on a Wednesday?
ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH