Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?

Hey all, how are we?

Today has been one of those strange days that I occasionally have when I come to realise I am a grown up with considerable responsibility. One who is in charge of little lives and has to look after the environment immediately around them. Now I get that you might be thinking, ‘Is she only just getting this, aren’t her kids like six?!’ and yes you would be right but surely I am not the only one who every so often it occurs to that actually grown up life is pretty scary?

This morning I felt like I often do like a great pretender when at 0830 hours when the boys should be in the car ready to go to school Leo was totally naked and laying on the living room floor refusing to get ready. I am never quite sure exactly why he does this and it often varies between things such as wanting a biscuit, being offended by the pants I have put out for him, not wanting to brush his teeth or just wanting to be a shit. Sometimes all of them if I am honest. His chosen method of protest is to be naked and he never goes far from this seasoned behaviour, like he thinks the ultimate embarrassment would be for me or Karl to have to take him to school with no clothes on. It shows his age as he doesn’t consider for a moment how mortifying it would be for him. Perhaps that’s where we are going wrong.

So fast forward a few hours from naked, moaning child writhing around the living room floor to me opening the door to an architect. A real life professional person instructed by grown ups to draw plans and give ideas for building works. Here is where it sank in, we are grown ups considering building works. We then had to explain to the very professional man our visions for the extension to our house and ask about fees, planning permission, permitted developments and bi-fold doors. Yes that’s right, I actually had an adult discussion with someone about these very things.

In between this architect leaving and the next one arriving (like grown ups we have asked a few to come round so we can discuss and decide which ideas we like best) I received a phone call from the boys school. The very lovely Wellbeing Mentor called to tell me that there was a small scuffle in the queue to get back into the class room after Leo’s playtime and in the scuffle he had received a blow to his private parts. He was fine but they have a policy to let parents know. She also wanted to emphasise that he wasn’t fighting or involved in any kind of argument it was just pushing and shoving and he was fine. Se then mentioned that he had told her he had refused to read his school book with me again so I explained that this was the last of my worries when he had still been naked at the time we should have gone out of the door this morning.

After some discussion with her and then Karl once I had got off the phone we decided that to show Leo that there can be more extreme consequences to his behaviour than a time out that he would not be allowed to go to ten pin bowling club this evening and that Nate who had behaved would go on his own. We both knew of course that this would be a bloody nightmare in itself. While I was having a very grown up conversation with the second architect about positioning of internal doors I was mentally preparing myself for World War 3 Leo style.

Of course it went exactly like I imagined it would, tears, screams, stamping, removal of clothes, pants thrown at me, the cat called an idiot, wails of ‘your so mean’ and ‘I don’t want to live here’ and then small sobs. He refused to do a time out for throwing everything all over the place so he went and moaned quietly to himself in his bedroom while I sat on the sofa waiting. Eventually about half an hour after Karl had left with Nate he came into the living room and declared that he would be going for his time out, took himself into the kitchen and sat on the stall for five minutes before apologising, clearing up all the mess e had made and asking if he behaved could he go to bowling next week.

So yes today was one of those days when I realise how grown up I am and we started the first step of a massively exciting journey to extend our beautiful home. I also had a pair of dirty pants thrown at my head. You can’t win them all!

Lucy xx


Author: TiredfromWhitstable

I'm Lucy, a 32 year old working mother and wife from Whitstable in Kent. This blog is for all my musings on life and follows my eternal struggle to juggle everything from being a mum, a volunteer youth mentor, a wife and making a lovely home and garden. Please join me!

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