Posts Tagged ‘scatty mother’

Why This Mum Is NOT Cool With Back To School!

All These Cartoons About Mothers Overjoyed at the Kids Going Back to School.

Why THIS Mum Isn't Cool With Back To School

Call me a jumbo dumbo but WHY is everyone so excited?!  Granted, my kids have driven me bonkers in other ways this summer (leaving their underwear ALL over the house, never switching a single fan off after leaving a room and hardly ever remembering their sunglasses or sunhats in this intense Mediterranean heat) BUT I’m still not filled with glee at them going back to school.

If you’ve read my post about the Exhausted School Mother you’ll have a pretty good idea of:

Why I’m Dreading the New School Year.

In the space of just one week of the first term last year, I managed to:
– mistake day two of the cycle for day one
– dressed K in P.E. clothes when they didn’t have P.E.
– dropped them off late twice
– left K’s folder at home twice
– forgot to listen to Dreamy D read his book
– didn’t get round to buying the mini whiteboard requested by his teacher
– and ‘overlooked’ the twelve – yes TWELVE (that’s what you get for having so many kids) – forms that needed completing and signing.

In fairness, the latter was sort of intentional: I ‘overlooked’ them until I had a sufficient supply of wine to help me cope with completing the whole damned lot. But let me explain:

Why I’m Not Putting up the Bunting to Celebrate The Start of Another Academic Year in:

back-to-school-featured

 

1) INSTEAD OF LYING IN TIL LATE O’CLOCK enjoying the peace because MDK creep downstairs quietly and get their own breakfast and then switch on the TV (yes my kids do this because they know Mummy would love to raiser her kids on zero screen time but #LetsHaveAGoodLaughAboutThatOne)

I NOW HAVE TO GET UP EARLY AND FACE THE DAY. Anyone who’s ever met me will know I have never coped well with this and cannot gel with the “I’ll sleep when I die” motto because when I’m dead I won’t have the satisfaction of waking up and looking back at a great night’s sleep because I will be dead…

You KNOW I”m right (unless you’re up half the night with your kids in which case, sorry, sleep when you’re dead).

2) INSTEAD OF YELLING AT THEM FOR not being able to pack a single swimming essential or beach item the entire school holidays despite practically living on the beach every long hot Maltese summer

I AM NOW YELLING AT THEM FOR not being able to put their reading book/homework/school folder/lunch box – in fact anything – in their bags despite two of them having attended school for several years. “Ooh I wonder where they get that from then Prabs…” Stop it. “You know yelling doesn’t achieve anything right Prabs?” I said stop it.

3) IN PLACE OF ENDLESSLY RUNNING AROUND the pool/beach searching for their swimming goggles, flip flops etc after a day of swimming,

I WILL BE ENDLESSLY GOING BACK THROUGH THE SCHOOL GATES every afternoon to go up to the classroom (ha! classroom x 3) just as everyone else is trying to come through the gates the other way, to try and find water bottles, hats, clothing etc

4) I HAVE SWAPPED TWO MONTHS OF SINKING INTO A SUN LOUNGER after mentally high-fiving myself for my kickass organisation because I’ve packed everything we need for a Summer’s day out [see 28 Reasons],

FOR NINE MONTHS OF SINKING INTO DESPAIR having actually high-fived the teacher because I’ve remembered everything from sports gear to school trip money to art class clothes, only for her to say “You remembered his library book right?” following it up with “Oh bless…shall I move in with you to help, love?”

Seriously…this actually has happened!

5) INSTEAD OF REALISING I’VE HARDLY GOT ANY FOOD IN THE HOUSE but it’s no biggie cos I can jolly well give them pancakes if I want to (or another bowl of cereal)

I NOW HAVE TO GET MY SHIT TOGETHER AKA actually planning lunches and snacks…oh God the planning…it just kills me.

6) RATHER THAN JUST ENJOYING THE BENEFITS OF MDK relaxing, playing, not getting in my hair at all and being super low maintenance housemates

I WILL BE SPENDING FIVE DAYS a week ferrying them around the island to tennis, football, swimming and choir (well alright, not quite ‘around the island’…more like within a one mile radius..but FIVE days MAN!).

7) AND DON’T GET ME STARTED on all the time spent trawling through every computer I’ve owned trying to find old photos for some project or another, spending my mornings running around buying items for various school productions and my evenings gritting my teeth doing internet research to help them create – oh hang on, help me create on their behalf – presentations.

8) AND DEFINITELY DON’T GET ME STARTED on…cue Pyscho’s shower scene music……MATHS HOMEWORK HELL!

9) BUT WORST OF ALL, THERE IS MY OWN TOTAL BEWILDERMENT OVER HOW LITTLE I GET DONE DURING THE DAY now that Cheeky K is finally at big school with her siblings.

I honestly struggle to the point of depression over not being able to find enough days or hours in the week to fit in the housework, school run, blogging, after-school activities and (dare I say it) some exercise…and I’m a stay at home mum for goodness sake! What’s my excuse?! Working mothers have it far worse; alright the blog is my work and I take it seriously but it’s not the same as having an actual job with an employer and official working hours and all that jazz.

 

I Can Feel a Blog Post Coming on About Trying to Manage it all.

It will be very short post and will consist mainly of me crying all over the computer and typing “Just. Can’t.” and possibly ending with a plea for free chocolate.

So no, dear reader, I am not shouting Hooray at going back to school. (Well silently mouthing it at the thought of going for a coffee alone I admit…)

Can you relate?  If so, what’s the bit you dread most about the school year?

 

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Seriously, IS It Normal?!

is-this-normal

I’m in a giving kind of mood this week. So I reckoned, seeing as how you liked Is This Normal so much, I’d treat you – with a sequel  I know, I’m literally too kind for my own good sometimes. Feel free to send me jewellery, chocolates, a book deal by way of thanks. Or you could just read this post and then start a veritable sharing frenzy…just sayin’…

So…it’s BACK!

Seriously, is it normal:

1. That a year after buying my own son the wrong birthday card (and mentioning it in Ten Lessons This Mama Has Learned), I apparently haven’t learned my lesson at all…and managed to buy one for a girlfriend, containing this:

Seriously IS This Normal?!

because I only saw this:

Seriously IS This Normal?!and thought “Ah…how sweet…that’s her” before quickly going to the check out, paying, borrowing a pen, ripping it open and letting out a high-pitched shriek as I noticed the mistake.

2. To go from “For pity’s sake don’t mention food again, I’m still absolutely stuffed from hours ago. What’s wrong with you, how could you even think about eating right now?” to “Man I could eat a horse. Give me your chips right now, I’m starving” in approximately 47 seconds.

3. To long for a food processor for about ten years, bang on about needing one for over five years, finally get one for Christmas and then only unpack it in July.

4. To finally feel all grown up simply because I’ve got said food processor sitting on my kitchen counter. (Really, if I’d known that’s it all it would take…)

5. To leave washing hanging on the line for nine days? Yes NINE. It wasn’t deliberate but it’s still really pants that I forgot it was there (and yes the pants had all faded in the Maltese sun).

6. For the Christmas Tree box to have been sitting in the corner of the lounge until June. Don’t judge me.

7. To clean out the shoe room and discover shoes dating back to 1992…which I don’t have the heart to throw away. Okay, judge me.

8. That there is barely a single inch of my house not covered in kiddie ‘art’. Not the preschool Christmas Day/Father’s Day/Mother’s Day/Valentines Day/Any-excuse-to-send-cute-crap-home-day variety (don’t be silly, that’s all spilling out of the cupboards and enormous plastic bags I’ve had the good sense to stuff them into). No, I mean the crayon graffiti they have scribbled literally e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e.  M actually wrote her name on a door just to practise writing and they’ve scraped their bangles across walls scratching off the paint in the process.

9. To have reached this age and need the concept of cider explained to me.
Hubster: “It’s made from pears or apples.”
Me: “Cool, so it’s wine before it becomes actual wine.”
Hubster: “Noooo, wine comes from grapes; cider comes from pears or apples.”

10. That I could have just cut the damned potatoes by hand and made an entire gratin twice over in the time it took me to figure out which processor attachment to use (and that my kids watched an entire film before I finally switched the machine on). Yes I know…still on the kitchen gadget topic…I’m a wild one.

11. To bump into an empty chair at a friend’s wedding and apologise to it. (FYI the chair can be substituted for a number of things: a bollard on the street, a toilet door at a restaurant etc).

12.  To do several huge clear-outs resulting in bags of clothing/toys/shoes/baby equipment…then leave it all in a cupboard for months.

13. That I never saw a single episode of Mad Men, Game of Thrones and gave up on Breaking Bad but think Looney Tunes is one of the best shows on TV. Honestly, Lola, what a revelation, that girl is hilarious (“How do you say Tacos in Spanish?”). And she’s just an animated character.

14. To have started packing literally weeks before our holiday and yet still only manage to close the suitcases just three hours before we’re due to wake up for the airport and still turn up at our destination without things we needed.

15. To finally give in and buy my kids loom band sets thinking they’d spend less time wanting TV and Wii and more time using their creativity and imagination…only for my eldest to spend hours in front of a computer screen all summer watching bloody loom band tutorials. Pffff.

16. To automatically cut up my husband’s baked beans on toast like I do for the kids (don’t judge me…occasionally I resort to baked beans on toast…I’m not Martha Stewart).

17. That despite all the aforementioned clearing out, my house is still no tidier and I get a sick feeling in my stomach and run around yelling “shit pit alert!” when someone’s about to pop over (don’t stress: if the kids are around I just run around mouthing it silently). I’ve actually been known to close the blinds and hide under the dining table to avoid having to open the door to them…yes I’m a bad human being. Maybe if I throw out some of the people who live here too, it might make a difference. Think I”m exaggerating? It’s all here; read it and weep.

18. That going into Sliema – a ‘town’ which is barely 12 minutes from the residential area where I live near the sea – feels like living in the UK countryside and doing a trip to London.

19. For Cheeky K to proudly present this to her father (who lost his locks many years ago) saying “Papa, this is you when your hair grows back”.

is-this-normal-k-pic Are you gonna tell her or am I…?

20. That I totally look up to Dory of Finding Nemo. Seriously? You’re surprised? Er…the forgetfulness scatty thing? There you go.

21. To buy a Running Backpack when I’ve not run in months [shuts eyes real tight and hope Hubster doesn’t read as far as this bit]. It looked so good.

22. That Musical M feels hard done by because she doesn’t have a smartphone. As far as I know, she’s not even close to being a teenager…so she’s got one hell of a wait. Mama didn’t get hers til she was 44.

23. That 13 years after our wedding, I still have pangs of regret every time I hear Etta James’ At Last because DAMN that should have been our wedding song! Bum.

24. For a new kettle and dishwasher cutlery basket (the latter was being thrown out by my sister and is three times better than the piddly one that came with our machine so I’m no fool) to make me this happy.

25. To count myself as a feminist, yet find myself smiling contentedly as I hand Hubster a Friday night V&T knowing I also have a homemade dessert all done and waiting in le frigérateur. See? First, the food processor, then the kettle and dishwasher thing and now this! Turns out, I have an inner 1950’s housewife. Who knew?

26. To be so known for locking myself out/misplacing my phone that one of my friends now answers my calls (assuming I’ve not left my phone somewhere and am actually able to call her) with “What have you done this time?” and another has appointed herself as my official carer. I love them. Really, I do. (Click on this to read more about that.)

27. That during one hot Summer week that included beach and pool fun with friends plus two fab nights out, the absolute hands-down highlight of my week was in fact inheriting a second-hand Ikea storage unit from a girlfriend.

28. To feel like a rebel when I don’t use my car indicator. Listen, I’ve lived in Malta for nine years. I’ve earned the right.

29. To burn toast as often as I do. I mean like all the time. That’s the title of my memoirs right there by the way: Burnt Toast and Other Disasters.

30. That despite knowing when my kids’ birthdays are, I’ve managed to do it yet again and have absolutely nothing organised for Cheeky K and Dreamy D’s birthdays that are both coming up. No really, zip, rien, nichts, nada, niente, naaaaaathing. I can feel the usual sense of panic rising in my tummy and my entire being going into a tail spin. How is this possible when I’m a stay-at-home-mum?! I’m even asking myself that one question that you never ever EVER ask a SAHM: what do you do all day? (Oh hang on…writing this blog post amongst others…)

31. To make just about the most disgusting soup in the history of soups. Seriously, how does one mess up soup exactly?

32. To live in a country that has literally months of the hottest most perfect conditions for repeated bed linen washing and drying and yet…start night time toilet training my son just as the rainy season hits. Sometimes, trying to help the environment by not having a tumbler dryer is a pisser. No pun intended (well, alright, just a little bit).

33. To erm, well, lie quite often when I do ‘favourite part of the day’ at kids’ bedtime because I can’t really tell them my favourite moment of the day is yet to come: when I go back downstairs and pour myself some mummy wine.

Talking of which, it’s favourite part of the day time again…

Now you tell me, IS it normal??

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What It’s Like Inside the Brain of a Mother

what-its-like-inside-the-brain-of-a-mother

Wow they’re really quiet. Are they still alive? I’d better go check on them. I’ll check in a minute. Just after I’ve had two more minutes sleep. Better not get into a deep sleep. Yep that’s done it. Can’t sleep now. So much to do. House is such a mess. Boy do I need a cleaning lady…preferably one who doesn’t throw saucepans like that looney tunes one…nice saucepan it was too. Ucch, what’s the point? She’d just clean around the mess. The mess would still be there taunting me…’go ahead Prabs…do your best…you can never get rid of me’.  So sick of doing all the cleaning myself…okay there’s no ‘all’…if I did it ‘all’ the house wouldn’t be such a state.

Best get up. I wonder how many seconds of solitary bum on seat time I’ll get before the first one appears at the door. I could just play dead. Not that it ever works. They still call my name clearly not realising I’m unable to answer in my fake dead state. We really need to replace this bathroom mirror. Holy crap, is that a wrinkle?! It’s that Paddington frown a mate told me I had. It’s causing wrinkles. I never even realised Paddington frowned. He’s just a cute bear who loves marmalade isn’t he? Oh we’re out of marmalade. Must get some. Must get a lot of things. I really want that mummy organiser chalk board thing I saw online. At least I’d use mine unlike my kids and that enormous chalk board I spent frigging ages painting onto that wall in their playroom. So glad I passed up on watching the entire Sex and the City box set and opted for losing hours of my life wrestling with masking tape and blackboard paint instead.

What on earth are they fighting about now? Sure isn’t which one of them uses the chalk board the most. Wait, what I was thinking about? Oh yes, if only I could have one of those naturally smiley faces. What do they say? A smile uses fewer facial muscles than a frown. Wow if that’s true, then my face sure does get a daily work out. How did that mum at school manage that perma-smile? The one who said she pulls up in the car park and ‘puts her smile on’ before getting out to fetch the kids. I tried that for a week and everyone kept asking if I was feeling alright. I must have looked constipated.  Hang in there. Only 12 more hours til their bedtime. I can do this. They’re good kids. What the hell is M screaming for now? Honestly, I don’t know where she gets it from…

Please God let this be the one morning where they brush their teeth and get dressed and make their beds without acting like it’s the first time they’ve ever had to get ready in the morning. Sick of yelling 300 times before even leaving the house. Actually I’m a bit calmer than that. 200 times. That’s right K, the least messy eater, you pick today – the day after I washed the floor – to throw the cereal all over the breakfast bar and floor and completely miss your mouth darling.

Oh no, the lunch boxes…I’m losing the will to live. Why do kids need to eat anyway? Can’t believe I used to get the lunches done in the evening before I’d even put the kids to bed…who the hell was that Prabs? Why does Hubster have to be away for work again? It’s so inconvenient. Doesn’t he know it really hampers the timely preparation of the lunchboxes now that he’s unwittingly taken over with that? Nothing in the cupboard. Nothing in the fridge. What am I going to give them? How does that women have the energy to run a daily blog dedicated to lunch box ideas when I can’t even dedicate the energy to making one freaking lunch box?

How is it possible to take SO long to get shoes on one’s feet? I should just put them to bed with their shoes on at night. I swear it would be less hassle. Jeez what has she got in this school bag? A ton of crap but barely a school book; it’s just a kids’ garbage unit on straps.

Right what’s the plan for today? In other words, what is the path of least fannying about and most productivity? Food shopping, cleaning, blog, cooking dinner, drinking cappuccinos? Let me just check my emails. Can’t I just hire someone to do that for me? Seriously, 5 email accounts, My poor brain can’t stay on top of it. I’m sure someone’s going to knock on the door with some kind of legal summons ordering me to immediately look at all 3490 of my unread emails. Right, that’s emails (kinda), Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Instagram, some other blogs done. Okay, got to get on with morning errands. Wow, it’s lunchtime. Better eat something then.

No way! It’s time to go get them already?  So it’s 10 out of 10 for fannying about….aaaand a big fat zero for productivity. No wait, 3 points for blogging. Oh for goodness sake, who on earth gives themselves points?! But they should have a reward chart for mothers.

Homework. I’m just going to pretend I didn’t see it. But I did see it. Crap. Here we go. Another two hours of my life wasted. I suddenly feel the urge to go paint another chalk board somewhere. My brain just isn’t wired for homework help.

I still haven’t replied to that birthday party invite. Where’s her number? Crap, I threw the invite in the recycling bag. Of all the weeks to actually put the recycling bag out on time, I had to choose this one. I need to peel these potatoes and boil them; the oven’s already been on for ages. Ooh I should offer to make that choc dessert for that drinks party next week. Let me just quickly message her before I forget. No, I’d better do the potatoes. How important is it to RSVP to that birthday party? Oh crappimingus, I forgot to get back to my friend about meeting up – especially as her hubby’s away. Boy do I know what it’s like to be a work widow; could never go back to it again… Changing every nappy, doing every lunch box, cooking every meal, washing every dish, doing every school run, fixing every broken down thing, helping on every bit of homework, coping with every lonely weekend while everyone else has their family one… Wow the kitchen sure is hot…oh the oven’s on…oh damn, the potatoes! Haven’t peeled them yet.

Need to make a floral head dress for that party. It’s a Swedish thing. Man, do I have to? I really don’t ‘make’ stuff, apart from a big deal out of nothing…and the occasional cake. And I can’t wear a garden on my head. Can’t I just play the Indian card and say we don’t do stuff like that? Sodding potatoes are over boiled. I need to book the babysitter for the night of that drinks party. I can’t book her again for the following night for the Midsummer’s party though. Can’t we just superglue the kids to their beds and leave them home alone? No, bad idea. What’s wrong with me.

Please tell me I’ve got butter for the potatoes. Need to get that laundry in. It’s been on the line for 2 days. Going to get bitten by mosquitoes doing it though which is why it’s been on the line for 2 days. What am I going to do with these potatoes? They’re falling apart. Is it bad I’m giving them packet fish? The filling did look good and they’re so quick and easy to make. Definitely no E numbers or additives. It’s not THAT bad is it? Let me recheck the ingredients. Shit. Vegetable oil. They don’t say if it’s hydrogenated or not. Which means it blooming well is. Heaven help me, I’m slowly poisoning my family. Well actually Hubster doesn’t care.  So correction: I’m slowly poisoning myself and the kids. Just don’t know what to feed them anymore. Don’t feed them dairy cos of a hundred different reasons. Don’t give them meat cos of a hundred other reasons. Careful with fruit and veg and pesticides. Eat carbs but avoid gluten. If the food doesn’t kill you, the stress of what to feed them will. My brain hurts.

OMG that form the school sent home…eight drinks to choose from for the end of year school trip and seven of them were fizzy! Jamie Oliver would have a seizure. Ooh I must try that chicken recipe he did on TV the other night. 15 minute meals my eye. The man’s a liar. I’m a liar…Can’t believe I told that woman I was a former driving instructor just to shut her up when she drove towards me the wrong way down that street. Need to stop doing that. Told that argumentative unhelpful shop assistant I was a trading standards official too. Honestly, who does that kind of thing? (Well…there was that friend who posed as a police officer more than once…) Oh that’s just great: I wrecked the potatoes. How does anyone wreck potatoes? Bet Jamie wouldn’t. Man, I need a glass of wine. Only 2 more hours til their bedtime. Hang in there. Wait, where are they? They’re really quiet. I hope they’re still alive. I’d better go check on them. I’ll check in a minute. Just after had two sips of wine.

Is This Normal?

Is It Normal?

 

I don’t know about you but I’m fairly sure it’s not normal:

1 To have had a knee operation but not remember which knee it was.

2 To answer “Just bring yourself back safe and sound” when Hubster asks “What shall I bring you from my work trip?” and then raid his suitcases when he’s back to see if he successfully deciphered my woman code and brought something…anything. Then I’m deflated when it turns out he did decipher the code and brought back…a set of wooden kitchen spatulas (if you’re a guy, don’t even think about asking “What..did you want metal ones then?”)

3 To forget the names of half the people I’ve met in the last five years and most of my colleagues in the noughties and yet remember every single person I worked with in Paris in the early nineties.

4 To make plans for the second Friday of the Holidays only to learn there is no second Friday because school resumes the second Wednesday (which I’d know if I occasionally looked at one of the two school calendars they send out).

5. To lose the two school calendars they sent out (ah…there you go).

6. For one of my kids to bring home a piece of work describing chores he does, claiming “I help clear up after a crafts activity” and “I clean up the dog’s poo”…when as far as I know, I never do crafts with them and I’m sure we don’t own a dog.

7. That there are flies on the inside of my window insect screens. (What’s the point of having the damned things and are the flies laughing at the other suckers who haven’t managed to make it into the house yet?)

8. To look at my wine glass after a friend and her kids leave, decide to have a cheeky refill, open the fridge and feel my heart fall into my socks because I can’t see the wine bottle.

9. To start a playdate with “Do you want a tea or juice before we move onto the hard stuff?”

10. For you to have read 9) and thought I said that to the kids.

11. To find a clump of hair on the floor and discover that my preschooler got busy with the kitchen scissors…and did such a good job of cutting her hair that I consider getting her to do mine.

12. To buy four desserts for my family…when there are in fact five of us.

13. To forget I collected my youngest from preschool, pull up outside my house and almost jump out of my skin when she calls my name from the back seat.

14. To end up watching Scooby Doo reruns (after the kids have gone to bed) because I’m desperate to watch something and there’s nothing on TV on the one night I’m not working.

15. To run out to the grocery store before it closes because I forgot the bacon for tonight’s pasta, get back and realise I also don’t have the wine I needed for it, go to pour myself some water but find the case is finished and know it’s too late to do anything about it and that I really should have cut this crap out way befoe my mid 40’s.

16. To stop off on the way home from errands to pick up a bottle of wine at only 11am (shame it was a Rose and I couldn’t use it for the pasta).

17. That my kids and I end up crying over episodes of Masterchef (well alright they get misty-eyed while I’m postively bawling…and let’s not even talk about the finale).

18. To discover that a mother who has never liked me and always ignored me is now following my blog.

19. To jump for joy when a new kids’ movie comes out but not be fussed when an adult one does (no, not that kind of adult movie…goodness me people!).

20. To get pelted with water by a guy driving by in a white van whilst I’m out running.

21. To tell myself every night I tuck them into bed that I will be a better non-shouty mother tomorrow…and then wake up the next morning and repeat the same behaviour.

Seriously, is it normal?

Honey I Forgot To Feed The Kids (things celebrity mums don’t do)

You know you haven't got this parenting thing right when you shriek "**** I FORGOT THEIR SCHOOL LUNCHES!". Celebrity mums just don’t have days like this.

You know  you haven’t got this parenting thing right

when you decide not to send them homemade lunches today, in favour of buying them hot pizzas at lunchtime.  And then later you sit in your favourite cafe writing a post called 10 Signs of the Scatty Mama  mentally patting yourself on the back for spending quality time with your youngest (when in actual fact she’s occupying herself with jigsaw puzzles, colouring for three hours and sipping babyccinos while you work on your blog).

And then you head off late to the grocery store

and as you’re salivating over the baked goods section and putting doughnuts into a bag as an afternoon treat for the kids, you shriek “**** I FORGOT THEIR LUNCHES!” so you grab some sorry-looking pizza slices from the bakery but you can’t call the kids’  teachers to let them know you’re on your way because you left your phone at home that morning (again) and you feel sick to your stomach at the thought of your other two kids sitting at school wondering where the hell their stay-at-home-mum is while everyone around them eats food lovingly prepared by proper mums, some of whom work and who don’t forget their kids’ lunch.

So you end up flying around the store like a lunatic

literally throwing stuff into the trolley at breakneck speed with your three year-old in the front seat firing nonsensical questions at you and then you line up at the ‘under 10 items checkout’, realise you have 11 items, line up at the correct checkout, literally throw everything onto the belt at breakneck speed like a lunatic, throw it all into shopping bags, run to the car, get to school way after they’ve all gone back in after lunch, endure hurt looks from your kids and faintly disgusted looks from their teachers and learn that some of the teachers scrambled around for food for your son who was crying.

Afterwards, you rush home and throw the food into the freezer

and fridge, grab your phone, nuts and chocolate (yep I really did say you grab your phone, nuts and chocolate), head off an hour late to your amazing baker friend for her help in grinding them up for a dessert that you promised to make for a fundraiser the next day because you bust your own food processor the week before when you made the same dessert.

Then your husband (who never questions your parenting)

calls you and questions your parenting…and you feel so deflated at your rubbish mothering skills that you end up gratefully accepting your friend’s invite to stay for lunch when you should really be heading home to put your toddler down for her nap and hang out that laundry load.  And later when you’re going to school to get the kids, you think how celebrity mums like

Angelina, Gwyneth and Victoria just don’t have days like this

(how would they when they have an entire army of childcare and domestic employees helping them fake the image of  the hands-on-mum?) and you get to school so late that your kids have gone back into the school building…and then you get your husband from work and he drops you back at your baker friend’s house but turns up again a bit later because on his way back to work he discovered you’d left your phone in the car.  Then you go home, finally prepare dinner, get the kids fed and get everyone upstairs for bedtime but as you’re bathing them, you think

“Oh crap, I don’t have eggs or sugar for the dessert”

and you realise the local store will close before you’ve finished bathing the youngest.  So your eldest has to change back out of her pyjamas and run to the store to buy some and as she’s leaving the house, she discovers the house keys in the front door and it’s at that point that you realise how fitting it is that you wrote 10 Signs Of The Scatty Mama just that morning…

…and that you need to borrow one of those employees from Angelina, Gwyneth or Victoria…