We’ve Talked About It, So…….

….why the f**k hasn’t it happened? (Not quite ready to swear yet, too early for online swearing).

This morning has been the usual humdinger of a morning. 6am began with MO winding up LO, getting hurt by him and then sliding down his usual helterskelter of woe and ending up in a proper shite mood. For some reason he doesn’t understand that jumping on our bed at that time of the morning and shouting at the top of his voice isn’t acceptable by anyone’s standards.. certainly not our Very-Quiet-Despite-Also-Having-Children-Neighbours. He then proceeded to slam his bedroom door repeatedly (although we were edging towards 6.30 so police/socialservices/noisenuisance team, slightly less likely to be called). By the time I had got downstairs to iron, yes I did type that correctly – changes are afoot as promised – his clothes for school.. I was then told I didn’t care because he didn’t have the right school trousers to wear. After ironing his clothes – and showcasing my most recent shiny halo – I calmly reminded him that I had on a couple of occasions in the last 24 hours asked him to select the school clothes that didn’t fit and give them to me to dispose of as required. That resulted in more yelling (from him, not me.. new leaf remember?). The school tie became the next joyous issue – he couldn’t remember how to tie it. Would he like help? No. Was there anything I could do to help remind  him? No. He knows how to do it, he isn’t stupid. Then… “OH MY GOD! You just don’t care! I am not wearing this shirt anyway” – takes off freshly ironed shirt, throws it in a heap and when asked to put it back on a hanger, screams and knocks everything off their hangers. Meanwhile YO is crying because he can’t undue his school shorts when he needs to do a wee and his socks are too big. The EO, not one to be left out of a hissyfit orgy,  is getting angry at us because she didn’t do her homework over the weekend (she had an ‘away’ weekend at her dad’s.. he’s homeworkaphobic) and is simply ‘too stressed’ to do it.

So I sit at the kitchen table and with a voice, verging on sounding angelic, balancing aforementioned halo beautifully upon my bedhead, asked them to tell me what would help them in the morning to feel more organised. I (re)suggested getting uniform ready in the evening, doing homework straight after school and having lists put up (again) to remind them. Completely ignored by the youngest two, the EO fully embraced it and lent me her colouring pens to write up lists (please see above).

Forward to half hour later and I trundle upstairs with clean clothes to be put away, ticking off stuff on my very own to-do list and this is what I see:

Now I am no Poirot but to me these look like suspiciously unmade beds. For the past… erm… 12 years.. I have been nagging my children to make their beds. Really simple. No sheets, blankets and eiderdowns in this house, no hospital corners to perform. just a duvet. One duvet. To. Smooth. Out. On. Bed.

To check I was still perfect, I took a little look in my bedroom..

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Yep.. still perfect…

Although… you do see the one thing that is missing on this list below? The one thing that I am doing? That is stopping me from getting on with the rest of the list?…

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Yeah…. (starts looking shifty)… writing this blog post… At no point does it say “stop what you are doing and write a completely meaningless and pointless blog that hardly anyone reads anyway as they have their own LifeShite to deal with”…. Hmm..Ah well.. it costs a lot less than therapy 🙂

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