Back together...
I have come to the conclusion that making any attempt at cleaning my house is pointless, as soon as I have more than one child in it.
It's been just son number two for the last week. Admittedly, where he is, so is his BFF (she's no trouble and on occasion is more welcome in this house than son number two) but even so, I have managed to keep on top of all the cleaning and ironing. The house is relatively tidy, and once I brought down the fourteen glasses, six plates and a half empty can of coke from his bedroom, I was feeling that everything was where it should be.
Son number one is now back in residence. When he is home there are several things that I can count on...
Firstly, he always leaves the bathroom cabinet door open. I always find this slightly odd as he has to open it to get his toothbrush out. Perhaps he has a door phobia - maybe I'll remove the door and then he can have an open-plan cabinet. Might work...
The other thing I can rely on is that there will be washing everywhere. Yesterday I walked into the utility room, and managed to head-butt a rather loud pair of Thai shorts. This is because son number one likes to tie the overhead airer up at the first knot, which means that you have to battle through low slung washing to get to the washing machine. He also hangs his shirts on hangers which are then hung on the airer- the cuffs tend to drag on the floor they're so low, so the first thing I did yesterday was hoist it high. At least I could now make out the sink.
And then there's the food in the fridge. Last night's dinner was eaten as a pre-lunch snack, and he tends to work through the fridge a shelf at a time. Chicken breasts and other cold meats have a life expectancy of about fourteen minutes when he is at home, and we get through more eggs than the World Record Holder for Omelette Eating.
But there must be positives, I hear you say. Of course there are. He's happy to walk the dogs when his leg doesn't hurt/he's got the right shoes/he wants to, and he will empty the dishwasher (assuming it was put on when it was full after his last food session).
All joking apart, it's lovely to have him home again. These moments of having them here are getting fewer and further apart and in a matter of weeks, they will all be gone.
Now remind me, where did I put that bunting?
It's been just son number two for the last week. Admittedly, where he is, so is his BFF (she's no trouble and on occasion is more welcome in this house than son number two) but even so, I have managed to keep on top of all the cleaning and ironing. The house is relatively tidy, and once I brought down the fourteen glasses, six plates and a half empty can of coke from his bedroom, I was feeling that everything was where it should be.
Son number one is now back in residence. When he is home there are several things that I can count on...
Firstly, he always leaves the bathroom cabinet door open. I always find this slightly odd as he has to open it to get his toothbrush out. Perhaps he has a door phobia - maybe I'll remove the door and then he can have an open-plan cabinet. Might work...
The other thing I can rely on is that there will be washing everywhere. Yesterday I walked into the utility room, and managed to head-butt a rather loud pair of Thai shorts. This is because son number one likes to tie the overhead airer up at the first knot, which means that you have to battle through low slung washing to get to the washing machine. He also hangs his shirts on hangers which are then hung on the airer- the cuffs tend to drag on the floor they're so low, so the first thing I did yesterday was hoist it high. At least I could now make out the sink.
And then there's the food in the fridge. Last night's dinner was eaten as a pre-lunch snack, and he tends to work through the fridge a shelf at a time. Chicken breasts and other cold meats have a life expectancy of about fourteen minutes when he is at home, and we get through more eggs than the World Record Holder for Omelette Eating.
But there must be positives, I hear you say. Of course there are. He's happy to walk the dogs when his leg doesn't hurt/he's got the right shoes/he wants to, and he will empty the dishwasher (assuming it was put on when it was full after his last food session).
All joking apart, it's lovely to have him home again. These moments of having them here are getting fewer and further apart and in a matter of weeks, they will all be gone.
Now remind me, where did I put that bunting?
Comments