6:30am – She’s awake. Please, please, please just let me have another half an hour. Nope she’s definitely awake. Just be thankful she’s let you sleep until this time, I have to keep telling myself. Some of my friends will be on their second breakfast by now so I need to remember to be grateful not grumpy. Happy face on and off we go.
7:30am – Make-up time. This is a must. The bags under my eyes do not need to be seen by anyone but me. I’ll sit her in front of the tv with her breakfast and put Frozen on (for the 65,000th time) so I can get ready. I’m halfway through and I hear what makes every parent of a toddler freeze in terror. Silence. This can only mean one thing, she’s up to no good. Oh for gods sake is this child for real. Weetabix everywhere. Seriously I do not have time for this. “Who did this?!” I ask her. “Me” she says. At least she’s honest. Weetabix cleared up I finish my make-up, making sure I have mascara on both eyes (as I was once half way to work before realising I’d only managed one eye that morning).
8am – Time to get her dressed. This will either take less than 5 minutes or anywhere up to half an hour. She’s running away from me. Great, it’s going to be one of those mornings then. Keep calm and smile, she’ll be more inclined to do what I want her to then. Nope that’s not working. I’m rugby tackling her to the ground and she’s twisting like a pretzel but I WILL get this top over her head. We have to get dressed every day, surely by now she should have realised it’s easier to just stand still than go through this circus every morning. What’s that smell? Oh for gods sake she’s pooed. Here we go with the aerobics. “Lie down on the mat please”. “No”. “Please Rae it will take two minutes”. “No”. “Ok how about you lie on the sofa?”. “Yes”. Result, she’s lying on the sofa. I’ve taken the nappy off. I’m about to put it in the nappy sack and she decides now’s the time to flail about like a buckaroo and kicks the nappy out of my hand. There is poo on my sofa. “Noooooooooo! Stop moving! Stay still! Don’t touch it! Oh my god this isn’t happening”. Of course Rae finds this hilarious. Poo cleared up, hands washed, I’ve got her leggings and socks on and now it’s just shoes. There’s no reasoning with a two year old. We end up with no shoes on. I’ll put them on when she’s strapped in the car seat and can’t get away.
8:30am – Nursery time. Rae loves nursery which I’m very thankful for but sometimes, maybe just once, I’d love it if she clung on to me and didn’t want me to leave. We walk in the room and she’s off, smiling, laughing, running around. “Bye Rae, give Mummy a kiss”. She comes running over and I just about get a cheek thrust my way before she’s off again. She’s obviously distraught at the fact I’m leaving her and can’t bear to see me go, hence why she’s now MIA. And off to work I go.
5pm – Home for 20 minutes to wash up, tidy up, Hoover and sort my washing out before going to pick my little angel delight up from nursery.
6pm – Oh my god. How long is it until bedtime. She’s crying because her doll fell on the floor. It’s right by her feet but apparently it’s too much trouble to pick it back up so she’s just standing there pointing at it and sobbing. I tried to pick it up but got shouted at for that so I’m just going to slowly back away in to the kitchen.
6:15pm – Bath time. “If you throw another one of those toys out of the bath again I swear it’s going in the bin”. We both know that’s not going to happen. The toys continue to get thrown. “Don’t you dare pour that water over the side. Don’t.You.Dare. Oh what have I just said, Mummy said don’t pour the water over. Do not throw that flannel. I mean it Rae I’ll get you out of the bath right now”. The flannel is thrown. I am drenched. My bathroom floor is drenched. Rae is laughing.
6:45pm – Bedtime. She’s naked, happy, Teddy in one hand and bottle in the other. We just have to get the pyjamas on, read a story then it’s lights out. Except she doesn’t want to put her pyjamas on. Within the space of 30 seconds my baby has gone from happy and compliant to full on batshit crazy melt down. She’s just tired, don’t make it worse, just let her get it out then try again with the pyjamas. Nope definitely doesn’t want to wear these pyjamas. I’ll try another pair. Oh that seems to have shut her up. I shouldn’t let her win like that but it’s soooo much easier than the fight. Oh my god what is wrong now? Her milks not warmed to Princess Raes liking. My god she’s going mental. Downstairs we go to heat it up. This seems to have cheered her up. Back upstairs, lying on Mummy’s bed to read a story. Oh for F…..I didn’t put the lid back on the bottle properly and it’s gone all down the front of her bloody pyjamas…..
7pm – Back downstairs, put toys away, clean the kitchen, make a cup of tea, aaaaaaaand relax.
10:30pm – I creep in her room to check on her and put her duvet over her. Why is it only when you have a child you realise just how creaky your floorboards/doors/stairs are. I’m a pro at the stairs now though. Stair 3 and 8 are the creaky ones so I jump over those, muahahahaha they won’t beat me! Oh my god her eyes are open. AVOID EYE CONTACT AT ALL COSTS. I’m standing still in the hope she hasn’t realised I’m here. Oh god she’s standing up. There’s nothing left for it but to do the drop and roll. I’m like a ninja, I’m out of the room that fast it’s like I was never there.
2am – WHAT THE… Oh it’s Rae. She’s crying. Please go back to sleep. Please please please! She’s not going back to sleep. I throw myself out of bed, get to my bedroom door and she goes quiet. Standard. I climb back in to bed and shut my eyes. I need to remember to get some milk tomorrow, oh and do the holiday insurance, and when am I going to have time to pack? Oh and don’t forget to put more spare clothes in her nursery bag tomorrow. Great, now I’m wide awake.
6:30am – “MUMMMMMMY”