Ok so I can’t actually tell you how to do that. I started with every intention of ignoring her until she fell to sleep, however after writing the title I conceded and rubbed her hair until she dozed off. I was trying to explain to my husband, last night, that I did not start this war, Layla did. He tried to convince me that she has no comprehension of her actions. Ha, she certainly has him fooled, but not me, I’m fully aware that this war is bigger than the war with Harrison, this war is huge. Why else would she be so tired she can barely keep her eyes open yet insist on crying until I am forced to act?
Today, after I settled the time bomb, I got the hoover out and with an immense amount of pleasure hoovered all of down stairs. Pleasure? You read right, pleasure! Hoovering is the one time in the day I can guarantee peace and quiet from the kids; Partly because the noise sends Layla to sleep, but mostly because it drowns them out.
Right now I am sitting on a chair in the front room, in a position that I can get a good look at what Harrison is getting up to in the garden and still watch Layla who is looking rather bemused about her new found freedom in her jumperoo. Harrison is currently scooping water out of his play table and pouring it on, Zuki, our family dog’s head. She is looking neither pleased, by this interruption of her basking, nor unhappy for I’m sure she secretly appreciates the cool down, even if she will never admit it.
You will not have noticed but there has been many a pause in my writing, not caused by writer’s block but my the need to consistently attend to my family’s needs. Whether this be the need to fish Harrison’s watering can from the toilet or the need to stop him from filling it up and bringing it in to front room to give Layla a very much unneeded soak. There also seems to be a need for me to stop him from attempting to climb into the jumperoo with her. Now there is a need to fill up his juice bottle which I had already filled up not so long ago; I suspect the sand pit was thirsty.
Oh and I have a need, a need to stop the older brat from pressing keys on my notebook. Are there any legal child restraints yet?
I have been reliably informed that there is no off button for the monster my husband and I created. I am now led to believe that he is not mine. I am far to angelic to have created such a beast. Maybe there was a mix up at the hospital? Maybe there has been an invasion of the pod people? Maybe I am having a really awful nightmare and I’ll wake up soon and find my adorable little baby boy is as angelic as he ever was? Maybe I should just remove the rose tinted glasses and realise, unless he was sleeping, he has never been that good!
As some of you know I am doing a monthly blog for http://bizziebaby.wordpress.com/ and in my first instalment I mentioned a paddling pool, well the saga continues. For those who have not read about my arguments with a certain pool I’ll explain…. We purchased a 6ft inflatable paddling pool on Saturday, it took me an age and alot of puff but I inflated it and was really very pleased with myself. That was until I noticed a puncture in the side right next where I had been blowing the thing up. Well hubby ran out to exchange it to find they had sold out and so they ordered us one in and it arrived today. When he went to collect it he picked up a foot pump, “fantastic!” I hear you cry, that is exactly what I thought when I unwrapped it and plugged it into the pool. “Hang on a moment! This thing isn’t inflating? OH F$*%££”$£””£$$£””$%!!!! there is a hole in the blooming foot pump!”
I swear if I was so inclined I could easily believe the world is out to get me. Oh wait a minute it is!