It’s only 9am on a Friday morning.
It has been a week consisting of kids, step kids, play-date kids and a baby, I've felt overwhelmed. All of a sudden my divine baby thinks I am the only person in the world. No one else can read a story, feed him or even cuddle him without a meltdown bigger than Brexit. The hysteria is beyond a joke and as much as I love being his favourite person, this isn’t a laughing matter.
Cue night-before school prep. One child off on a school trip, two on a regular school day and one with the sport kit in the wrong house (because that’s what happens when you are juggling step kids). Add in a temporary nanny for a day, and a work dinner for me and my dearest other half. The stress levels are pretty high, but of course we are organised. Car loaded with school bags/packed kit, baby seat in the right place and text to the ex-wife. Said ex-wife isn't keen to help with sport kit transference to school because it’s our problem apparently. Moving on...
So that brings me to today. I get them ALL up early, breakfast all round, everyone gets dressed, we all load into the car (baby in tow) to go via the ex-wifes house, collect wrongly located sports bag, return back to school and drop child 1. Then drop the next ones at their school which of course involved unloading a massive bag for the school trip, along with more back packs than they sell in a camping shop. Hugs all round and wishes of luck for the school trip.
Then finally I head home. Clearly I now have a screaming baby in the car, made all the worse by the fact I’ve borrowed a friends nanny for the day as mine is away, so I know I will shortly need to leave my mummy-loving mini person with a stranger. I walk in the front door, baby under one arm, and the phone rings. It’s the teacher of the school tripper. ‘Hello’ she says, ‘It seems your daughter has no packed lunch for the coach today for her school trip’. My heart sinks. ‘Is there any way you could drop it off?’. I tell her I am so sorry but I can’t. I have a strange new nanny arriving in 10 minutes and I don’t have a packed lunch. It wasn’t forgotten I just completely missed the fact I had to make one. I beg her to sort something out at school and apologise profusely. Superstar teacher says she is on the case, and not to worry. These things happen.
Filled full of mother guilt, I make myself a coffee before the nanny arrives and I head to work for a packed day of meetings.