People often ask me "how do you do it?" The truth is, as I sit here drinking my second glass of prosecco, I have no idea. I just do because I have to. I just take it one day at a time. The following is an example of a typical day.
I wake up frighteningly early for no apparent reason. I can't hear the boys so I assume they're still asleep. I go into their room so I can gaze adoringly upon them and plan to sneak back into bed for a bit. They're both awake. Sleepy but awake. There will be no sneaking back to bed for me.
First thing on the agenda is a nappy change for the boys. I sit on the sofa, pretending to fiddle with my phone and wait for a boy to stray too close to me. Chops is first to be captured. We go through the usual struggle which ends up with me being kicked in the throat. When he's changed, he climbs off the sofa taking some cushions with him. He throws them on the floor and rolls around on them.
Benny is too clever to allow himself to get caught, so I have to chase him around until I wrangle him on to the sofa. He screams and kicks me. I attempt to calm him down by singing "There's a Hole in the Middle of the Sea". Chops is enchanted by my soulful voice. Benny screams even harder.
Next up is breakfast. Chops watches Baby TV and Benny looks at a book. I make eggy bread and a fruit salad. I wrestle the boys into their highchairs, serve them breakfast and disappear for a quick shower. I return to a remarkably tidy carpet and to Benny rubbing kiwi fruit into his hair.
Next step is getting them dressed. It is every bit as frightening as it sounds. Imagine trying to undress and redress a particularly cantankerous octopus, and its equally arsey mate, and you kind of get the gist. Socks are the worst.
Oh my God, the socks.
Finally I can get myself ready. I haven't washed any of my own clothes for about a month, so I dress in some stuff I was going to give to charity, put on a bit of war paint and I am good to go in less than 5 minutes. Gorgeous.
There is a final wrestling match as I put the boys' coats and shoes on. Of course I win, but it was touch and go for a while.
Boys are stuffed into their pushchair, bags, blankets and bunnies are loaded up. Snack pots are filled and I am absolutely exhausted.
Three and a half hours after waking up, we are off!
First stop is the Post Office. The boys are unusually quiet which I appreciate. Until I turn around and see they were using their snack pots to catapult Hula Hoops across the floor. I scrabble around picking them up and stuff them in my handbag. The financial advisor accosts me and somehow persuades me to make an appointment to discuss life insurance. I didn't have the heart to tell him I don't have any money.
Next stop is The Golden Boot. A couple of weeks ago I bought the boys their first shoes. They were apoplectic and so I said I would come back another day. Today was that day. What was I thinking?! They cried. They tried to escape. Noah turned into a noodle whenever I tried to get him to stand up. There was kamikaze moves off the chair. The assistant bought old bubbles, tried to get them interested in the train. It was awful. The end results? A photo of a gormless, open mouthed Benny with a bubble popping in his face and a morose looking Chops. A third picture has me in it. Looking like a whale in a dress, dazed looking as a boy sprints off in each direction. The latter has been put in a fridge magnet frame and a duplicate property dedicated to "give to nan". Oh joy.
The next hour in the shops passes by in a haze of crying and things being pulled off the shelves. Eventually Chops has a nap but Benny is going strong. My will to live has been decimated and I take the boys home.
Nappy change (see earlier) and lunch (see breakfast) ensue. Then I put the boys in bed for a nap (them) and to sit with my head in my hands for a couple of hours.
Chops wakes first. I take the opportunity to give him a cuddle on the sofa. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, it feels like heaven. After 5 minutes or so he bites me on the bloody arm! I'm somewhat shocked and tell him off and it's quite obvious not a single bother was given. He runs off to do whatever it is he likes to do. I go to wake Benny up by tickling his nose. My attempts to cuddle him are rebuffed. So I start cooking dinner. Food is partly eaten and partly worn. Boys are scrubbed and the futile nightly attempt to brush their teeth ends up with them chewing the brushes.
It's an hour until their bed time. Yay! There is a bottle of prosecco in the fridge which has been calling my name.
The daily fight to get the boys into pyjamas ensues. I get battered again. Eventually boys are in bed and I finish tidying up. I go to sort out my handbag and discover the hula hoops from earlier. They were bbq beef flavour. My handbag now reeks of bbq beef.
The time has come! I put my feet up with a glass of wine. It feels amazing. I notice the finger prints all over the TV. I try to un-notice them. It doesn't work so I end up cleaning the TV. And the cabinet. And the windowsill. And then I do some hoovering. And then I remembered that I am supposed to be relaxing tonight.
And here I am still. Trying to summon the energy to go to bed and recharge my batteries so I can do it all again tomorrow.
