Friday, 14 March 2014

eyes in the back of your head

It’s been a crazy couple of weeks. I kept myself going by using each circled date on the calendar as a stepping stone until I reached the last one, a presentation I had to make on Tuesday. When that was done I think my body said, “Well, we made it through that one - time to crash!”

I felt the blanket of fuzziness descending even as I drove home. Unloaded the kids and fed them - something - can't remember what. Hubby eventually woke up - he had a run of four back-to-back overnight shifts this week so he was asleep. I handed over the kids and said I needed an hour’s sleep myself before he headed off to work, then collapsed on the sofa - with temp spiking to 40C but feeling frozen to the bone.

I waved hubby out the door at around 5.15 and plonked the rest of us down in front of the television, counting the hours until bedtime. We eventually made it through cereal for tea (easiest!), jammies, teeth, wees and stories before finally - aaaahhhh - settling into bed.

Only to be woken at least 3 times that night by baby, then by the other kids waking up far too early and refusing to be shooshed back to sleep. I pulled myself up bleary-eyed to hussle Amber through breakfast and onto the bus, gave Charles a quick hug as he arrived home from work before rushing out the door for pre-school drop-offs, and then tried to dream up something quick and vaguely edible to put on the table for dinner.

We repeated the whole thing again on Thursday with an even dodgier dinner as the fridge got emptier.

Then today, just as the killer bug began lifting, Thea came down with it too. She was so, so miserable that I spent the afternoon glued to the sofa with her in my arms, leaving the other kids to - mostly - fend for themselves.

And now we have a dilemna - we’re supposed to leave for camp tomorrow. The kids have looked forward to it for weeks. We were at the same camp last year over St Patrick’s weekend and they loved it - they had an entire dorm room of 8 bunks to themselves, while mum and dad were just down the corridor in a tight double bedroom with the cot jammed in. But we had a blast meeting the other families and competing against them in events like the great St. Paddy's Day cupcake contest and "Who's the Boss?" photography shoot - which is why I really don’t want to miss it this time around. (Especially after my new resolution to embrace Ireland as home!!)

 Awesome entries for last year's cupcake contest. (Um, ours didn't even make it into the photo!)

At least Charles and the older girls have escaped the bug which means we're not entirely contagious.

The onliest thing is, since I haven't done much housework this week - you should see the laundry pile. The ironing pile. The kitchen!!! The kids have turned their rooms upside-down choosing toys to pack for camp, but I haven’t even pulled the bags out of the storage cupboard. I'm hoping we still have bags. And I’m really not sure if we'll make it to camp - depends how Thea is in the morning.

The joys of it.

But there was a brief moment this morning that made the whole week worthwhile. The kind of moment when you have to turn away so your kids don't see you laughing - and you realise that despite the days when you have to summon up every ounce of strength you have, parenting is THE best gift in the world.

I’ll leave you with the conversation my two older girls had this morning over breakfast - word for word. Enjoy!


Kayla (4): “My teacher said she has eyes in the back of her head so she can see when we’re naughty.”

Amber (6): “Well you’d better mind yourself then!” Then, after pausing for a minute to consider the situation; “Can you see the eyes at the back of her head?”

Kayla: “No.”

Amber: “Well then it’s not true. And besides, God made us with only one pair of eyes. I think she’s just trying to make you be good all the time.”

1 comment:

  1. I love it. Aren't kids cute! So knowing. Great chuckle, thank you.

    Sorry you've had such a tough week, suffering in duplicate. I hope you managed to go to camp, and have a lovely time.

    The washing can wait, so can housework. Living is precious, so is memory building. I hope you managed to grow some good ones.

    Love Vicky x