So, I let the kids choose what family activity we should do together.
They chose swimming. Bastard swimming…
I spend 40 minutes packing the mountain of towels, costumes, shorts, shit toys that sink to the bottom of the pool that no-one actually swims down to collect, shampoo, conditioner, body wash, talc (to speed up the horrific drying process), hairbrush, 97 hairbands – it’s basically like we’re going on a mini break.
Arrive at the pool, Betsy’s bikini is too big so she loses her shit in the changing room and makes me swap with her – I love nothing more than squeezing my size 10 ass into age 12 Newlook swimwear with the words ‘I believe in unicorns’ plastered over it.
I forgot Tallulah’s goggles; she spent the whole hour wailing like she was being forced to swim in bleach.
Edie’s left armband had a hole in it – she had the BEST toddler tantrum known to man poolside screaming about ‘kind hands’ for the 282628th time this week.
The actual swimming part itself wasn’t too painful, apart from it being that time of year when winter colds are rife so every kid in there was dripping with green snot.
Betsy got me in a headlock when the wave machine came on and drowned me and I did that ‘jokey laugh’ like I was a fun mum in case anyone was watching when I actually wanted to lose my shit big time.
After swimming all of them want to get ready with me, brilliant. Josh deserves some ‘me time’ with his new Molton Brown black-peppercorn bodywash.
Queue the next kick off about them having their hair washed – god forbid I try and get the chlorine out.
Edie pisses in the shower, and lets everyone know – bowed legs the lot – proud as punch.
We get into the restaurant where Tallulah bellows “MUM I WONDER IF ANYONE IN HERE WILL KNOW YOU’RE FAMOUS”. Betsy cringed that much she sat on another table and pretended not to know us.
Josh decided to discipline me in front of everyone for not putting my hand over my mouth when I yawned…like he went into full PC plod mode like an utter bastard about manners not costing a penny…Sorry Josh that I’m a tired twat, I’ve just got a shit load of kids dried in a 90 degree changing room not only did I then have to get their still-wet sticky bodies dressed, I had to get them dressed into fucking skinny jeans for a total laugh because you chose their clothes this morning. Tit.
Got to the car in torrential rain, Josh then lost the keys…attempted to blame me so i empty 27272527 bags of wet towels and swimwear roadside. Not there. Go back in the leisure centre, turn the cafe upside down, ask all the diners in the leisure centre who already think we suck as parents…no ones seen them…then he checks the locker ‘just incase’…there they are, along with his pound coin. By this point I want to cut him.
Anyway, home now, I’m stinking of chlorine because when I lifted the shampoo to wash my own hair my kids looked at me like I’d lost the plot. How dare I do something for myself.
I’ve got 65 loads of washing, everyone’s overtired and kicking shit out of each other and Josh has just cracked open the red wine…he deserves a drink. God Bless him.