I had high hopes for this weekend. After a week of feeling like I was sliding down the good mummy charts faster than a new release by last year’s X-Factor winner I was determined to turn things around. On Friday evening I was ready and gearing up for the task before me like a boxer preparing for a big fight with just one goal in mind – I would not be defeated! Tired after two long days at work? Get over it! Three months rain over two days forecast for Saturday and Sunday? Rain schmain! I mentally batted away any negative thoughts about what might lie ahead with all the slick confidence of one of the William’s sisters. I. could. do. this. Or rather, I would do this! A forty eight hour stretch with all of my beloved children and no adult assistance?! Child’s play for a mummy such as I!
It started well on Saturday morning with the triplets first cookery experience. Nanette Newman (Fairy Liquid ads circa 1985 – my fantasy mum) would have been impressed. Ella, Louis and Theo all lined up on the kitchen counter fighting over the wooden spoon and squealing with Boden catalogue cuteness as I, in turn, kissed their floury noses. Unfortunately, I didn’t have half the ingredients I needed for this impromptu culinary lesson so focused on the process rather than stirring up too much excitement about the end result. Strange cake like creation in the oven and faces wiped we moved outside. The rain had temporarily abated and so I thought we’d have some fun with their little bikes. You know the ones -long handle sticking out of the back for a responsible adult to push. Oh, I can’t tell you how much fun there is to be had when three little bodies are all screaming to be pushed and there’s only one me. Up and down our lovely Close we went, birds singing in the trees, neighbours mowing their front lawns and Ella banging her head on the concrete because, having been born with only the standard two arms, I was at that moment pushing her brothers and not her. And it kind of went downhill from there. Grandad popped round, unexpectedly, mid afternoon and I think it’s fair to say that by then I was on my knees, wild eyed and slightly unhinged looking. I saw his arrival as a tiny offering from the universe. Would he mind if I went for a super quick run, just to clear my head? To be honest, I didn’t listen or wait for his reply – just pulled on my trainers and was out the door quicker than you could say, ‘One way ticket to somewhere really far away, please.’
Poor Grandad. Having popped by for a cup of tea he could only stand and watch as his daughter sped down the road and disappeared round the corner without so much as a backwards glance.
It did the trick though. Twenty minutes later I did that funny, knee buckling walk back towards the house and stumbled through the front door purple faced and sweating but definitely feeling less loopy. I was greeted by the three little terrorists as though I had indeed just returned from somewhere really far away and falling to my knees our reunion hugs and slobbery kisses had me instantly back on track and determined to fulfil the good mummy challenge I’d set myself. Time for tea and home made ‘cake’…okay, so it wasn’t my finest moment in the kitchen but it was the triplets first and not a bad group effort. I like to think Nanette would have been proud.