Day 1 of school holidays.

8.25am: Still in bed with no plans to move anytime soon. 1 coffee deep. Feeling good. Chance of rain all day resulting in cabin fever with 3 lively offspring may change that. 48 hours until the Fathership returns.8.35am: Appears there’s a change of plans. Offspring demanding food. Claiming they are starving, I call bullshit. Make a deal with everyone that I’ll peel backside off bed in 5 minutes. Met with grunts & groans but offspring leave bedroom, success. Time to enjoy remaining 4 minutes of bed. 0 given.
9.30am: Feeding time at the Zoo is over. Somewhat successful minus the toddler wanting cereal & then upon its arrival deciding she wants toast. Tell her to use her words instead of shouting at me. Continues to shout out at me. Master 7 asking to go to the shop every 7 seconds so I can replace the lollies his sister found in his bedroom last night & inhaled. Contemplating shower & bra. Decide to rethink such nonsense at 10am.
10.30am: Showered, overrated. Mourning loss of pyjamas & addition of bra. Master 7 still crapping on about going to the shop. Patience at about 63%. 46 hours until the Fathership returns.
10.50am: Intervene fight on trampoline between Masters 7 & 10. Throw out a few empty threats at them & they look at me like I’m a fuckwit. Let them sort it out themselves.
10.52am: Return to trampoline, there are tears now & serious punches being thrown. Can no longer ignore it. Send to opposite sides of yard & tell everyone to calm the fuck down. Minus the fuck of course. Tell them it’s National Siblings Day. They give less than 0 & say they hate each other. I feel like telling everyone I hate them to but bite my tongue & walk away. Go me.
11.05am: Brothers best friends again, laughing & playing soccer. Confused at sibling dynamics. What a mind fuck. Contemplate ringing Mum to thank her for keeping me an only child.
11.08am: Practice peaceful parenting by getting on threenagers level & asking her to stop squealing. She looks at me with a face that shows she gives -5. Squeals again. Earns 1 way ticket to time out. Or as she calls it “Tine out”. Fought the cuteness.
11.15am: Headache. Take Panadol. Think about mixing with alcohol to numb the pain of life. Decide I’m better than that. Just.
11.30am: More claims of starvation. Again, I call bullshit. Have short but serious discussion about actual starving people in the world. Appear to be listening before Master 7 burps & both boys laugh & I lose them. Filthy creatures. Shake head, lock myself in toilet for time out.
11.32am: Threenager finds me. Bangs on the door & tells me to open it. Time out over. Best 2 minutes of day so far. 45 hours until the Fathership returns.
12.30pm: Shop run. Shut Master 7 up & replace lollies lost to sibling. Threenager carries on, does the stiff body on ground crying. Try to explain the situation to her. Does not go down well. Buy threenager lolly pop, feel judged, give 0.0000. Leave shop & feel like giving the finger to a few people, threenager included.
1pm: Feed the hoards. Silence for 6 minutes. Relish every second. Decide its TV time. ABC 2 for kids won’t work. Panic. Question if there really is a God.
1.30pm: Mum calls to ask if I’d like an extra dinner guest. Excitedly ask if it’ll be Magic Mike, Mum says No, it’s her. Hesitantly say yes, unsure I can put up with her bullshit as well as offsprings. Remember the pain of child birth & change my attitude. Decide to cook her favourite soup. Get excited at the thought of adult interaction.
1.33pm: Offspring overhear conversation & whinge about soup for dinner. Ignore them. Turn up radio & dance to “Like a Prayer” by Madonna. Offspring whinge about dancing. Ignore them.
2.10pm: Have a brief lapse in judgement & decide to cook cake with kids
2.12pm: Regret cake decision
2.30pm: Cake in oven, kids covered in cake batter. Feel sad that I don’t get to lick the beater anymore. Mourn childhood. Hate adulthood. Commence cleaning cake batter off everything within 2 metre radius.
2.41pm: Kids ask if cake is ready, I say no.
2.45pm: Kids ask if cake is ready, I say no.
2.50pm: Kids ask if cake is ready, I say no with much less patience. Enlighten them with the brilliance of an oven timer. Tell them when they hear it buzz the cake is ready. Offspring amazed. 42 hours until the Fathership returns.
3.15pm: Cake is ready. Atmosphere is electric.
3.17pm: Tolerate argument over who gets to ice the cake for about 9 seconds. Slam hand on bench louder than anticipated. The crowd pays attention. Inform them I’ll be icing the cake. More grunts & groans & me giving 0.
3.35pm: Watch offspring sit tightly together on large couch & feel like my heart might explode with love.
3.45pm: Overhear boys teaching little sister words she doesn’t need to know. Confront them. They say they didn’t. Explain I have ears, can hear & DO NOT tolerate lying. They apologise very in sincerely. Feel like my head might explode with frustration.
3.48pm: Wave the white flag. Have a glass of tolerance tonic. Mummy’s medicine. Wine.
4.10pm: Flogged Master 7 at NBA video game. Embarrassingly satisfying. Such a Leo.
4.30: Second & last glass of wine. Bottle empty but in a happy place. Life is good.
4.50pm: Nanny turns up. Offspring go crazy. Notice she has wine. I go crazy.
5.15pm: Soup time. Offspring starts whinging. 3rd glass of wine. At this point I give 0 whether they eat or not. You don’t eat it, you go without. More for me. & less dishes.
5.45pm: Cut cake we made earlier. Nanny wants some. I choose not to participate after seeing how it was made. Everyone seems to enjoy. Happily stand by my decision.
6.10pm: Saige has shower. Nanny can’t believe the carry on. I sing “Welcome to my Niiiightmaaare”. This is not new to me. Shower & carry on lasts 4 long & very painful minutes. Extra grateful for tolerance tonic. Nanny looks stressed. I can see she’s feeling my pain.
6.30pm: Duties fulfilled. From here on in until bedtime, it’s everyone for themselves. Thanks for coming Nanny.
Day 1 of school holidays. Done. Survived. See ya later 👋
39 hours to go.

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