We had a very nice weekend with hubby’s Mum – Ninny Sue to the boys. She flew over from Belfast on Friday evening and bravely entered the mad house.
It was particularly mad as Friday had been slightly stressful, earlier in the week I discovered an extra meeting I was supposed to clerk for Friday lunchtime so the boys were dumped lovingly left at my Mums house as she packed for her weekend away in York helping my sister to move to a new apartment. I got to spend a few hours trying to write coherent and intelligent minutes about budgets (did you know school’s have two types? No neither did I and I am still pretty much none the wiser about what you do with them).
As hubby had to collect Ninny Sue he was working from home in the afternoon to get an earlier get away. I got home from my parents in the freezing cold with two tantrummy children and found the drive taken up by his car – forcing me to park on the other side of the road and get both boys (one in a heavy car seat), a potty, a high chair, nappy bag, my bag and Ben’s latest artistic masterpiece across the road. Was hubby able to help? No some crisis had occured and he was on the phone to his IT department frantically trying to get his remote access working to avoid a last minute drive into his office to get some essential document.
After much gnashing of teeth on both our parts the kids and their paraphrenalia was safely in the house and hubby had his remote access – all was sweet until I started preparing dinner to find that I didn’t have the turkey. As I was making a turkey and stuffing ball bake this was a bit of a downer. I decided to walk to the shops to get some fresh air and few minutes of peace. I got back to find my husband practicing the kind of deep breathing that normally happens before someone erupts with rage.
While DH had played with Ciaran, Ben had pooed on the floor – all over him and the carpet. Out with the carpet cleaner and then while I frantically carried on cooking dinner and dancing to amuse Ciaran in the highchair Ben was dunked in a bath (1st poo on the carpet of the weekend) and then taken to the airport to collect his Ninny Sue.
All went well – everyone ate their turkey and stuffing ball bake – with Ben behaving impeccably and asking for more carrots and cranberries before burping loudly, the upside down butter free plum cake was also quite nice (a trifle to sweet for me though). Kiddies in bed we had a glass of wine before all the adults turned in for the night.
Next day we got up in a rush – I had a training course (naturally I wont get paid for the time I spent preparing for and attending the course as clerks are paid by the meeting) I got up – ate my breakfast, helped Ciaran eat his and then helped get the kids half ready before leaving the house. I came back at lunchtime to see my husband practicing deep breathing again. Whoops – another poo, this time on the little blue chair, trod all through the house. Ben had enjoyed yet another bath, followed by the horror of feeding spag bol to both boys (he couldn’t understand how or why Ciaran got it in his eyebrows).
Luckily by the time we got everyone ready and drove to Milton Keynes everyone felt a lot more relaxed, so much so that Ciaran did a marvellously smelly poo while sleeping in the car. We had a lovely late lunch at TGI Fridays before heading home. Later in the evening Ninny Sue helped both boys to have their bath together before bed.
Sunday morning brought the third poo of the weekend (in his PJ’s playing with his new jigsaw). At this point I wondered if someone had hypnotised Ben to only poo on the floor. Ben insisted that his Ninny came upstairs to watch him bathe again. A quickly cobbled together lunch of turkey balls, salad, dips and crudites was enjoyed by everyone before Daddy and Ninny Sue headed back to the airport.
It was nice to see Ninny Sue again but she must have left thinking the following:
Ben will only poo on the floor, talk of how well potty training was going had all been lies
I can only cook turkey
We live in a constant state of stress and annoyance
Our house is a total tip
Aside from the fact that Ninny Sue must think I am a lousy housewife the other upshot of the weekend was that poor Daddy had a yukky taste of life as a stay at home Mummy while I was away and didn’t seem keen to give up work and do it full time.
PS. Burkes law – since Daddy and Ninny left to go to the airport we have had a total of 4 poo’s on the potty – none on the floor!