I am Soooo could in the Olympics Mum

​Tonight’s story choice was Tangled or Beauty and the Beast.
Tangled is too scary apparently…

Why?

“Because Eugene cuts her hair!”  (Silly Mammy.)
Yes Darling because the huge, giant, fanged, bad tempered MONSTER and mysoginistic arsehole male protaganist in Bootay and the Beast is nothing compared to having your hair cut.

I give up.

Her nightmare tonight had BETTER be about a huge fricken scissors rather than the Beast.😂
We’re going through a nightmare phase, which means that she ends up between us at approximately 2am and no one gets anymore sleep until 5am when Him’s alarm clock evacuates Him from the bed and she decides to slumber with her heel in my back.  

It’s not cute. 😡

It’s a pain in the posterier.  

If she’d snuggle up and go to sleep between us, it’d be tolerable, but NO.

Mini-Me lies there with the eyes of a frightened BLUEBOTTLE staring at the ceiling and jumping dramatically each time there is a sound.

And I would NEVER blame The Him👤…

(Pointing out that he let her watch “The Avengers” last Saturday doesn’t count as directing blame.  I’m simply stating a random fact that just happens to coincide with the start of her nightmares. Im not BLAMING anyone…) 😲😲😲
Today, I am a DOMESTIC GODDESS People!
I’m talking Super-fricken-Mum. 😂
 I attacked the laundry and made it to round 2 before giving it the fingers and closing the utility room door once again.

The girls were fed AND BATHED today.😅

I did floors.

I cleaned.

I tidied.

The minions are now safe and snug in bed, the bombsite is tidied again and the dinner is on. 💃💃
I am fricken fablis and I don’t even want gin tonight!

That’s how much my shit is together tonight Ladybelles.
Or maybe it’s because I’m watching the muscly gymnasts on the Tellybox and they’re making me want to worship my body like the shrine that it is and the possible Olympic winning gymnast that it could be in 4 years time…

I could you know!

Well, maybe not.

My one and only attempt at “the Horse” or vaulty thing as an 8 year old child with seriously BAD EYESIGHT resulted in a black eye, delivered beautifully by my own knee…so maybe not gymnastics.
Synchronised swimming?  Can’t swim…

Diving? Afraid of heights…
Ah I’ll find something to be fablis at.
Maybe being a Mammy should be an Olympic sport?

 I’ll surely have it perfected by 2020! 

Hahahah! 

For now, I’m going to enjoy sitting here watching the non-druggied, good and honest male gymnasts.

Those muscles… the bums… siiiiiigh! 💖
Hope you all had a Marvellous Mumday! 😙😙😙

I am Streetlamp Mum

Oh to be able to see the extraordinary in the ordinary, without even trying.

ordinary

On Saturday past, we received a last minute invitation to join friends for dinner.  Now, while we usually try to have Mini-me tucked up in bed by 7.30pm, we’re also aware that she needs to have the odd night out of routine.  We’re also very aware that in a few months time, we’ll be less able to make sporadic plans with a new-born in the house, so we gratefully replied to say “Absolutely!  See you in an hour.

We had a lovely evening.  The kids played for hours, oblivious to bedtime passing.  The adults ate and laughed and talked. It was bliss.

In true Cinderella style, just before midnight, we packed an exhausted threenager into her car seat.  We assumed that she’d fall asleep and that Daddy would simply lift the Sleeping Beauty into the house and tuck her into bed in her clothes.  We were wrong.

Because what we had never considered or anticipated was the absolute magic that the journey would present to her.

As we drove through the town, she began to gasp in awe.  “Oh Daddy, I looooooooove them!” she announced.

We hadn’t a clue what was so exciting, until I looked around and saw her chubby little face illuminated by a streetlamp.  Her eyes were popping out of her head and her jaw was quite literally on the floor.

“What do you love?” Daddy asked, still unsure of what was so amazing that it had warded off the snoozes.

“All the magic lights floating in the sky,” she replied.  “They’re booootiful!  I love them. What are they Daddy?”

“They’re streetlights Darling.  They light up the town when it’s dark,” was his answer.

streetlamps

“Nooooooooo!!  They’re magic lights from the fairies to guide us home. They’re floating  lanterns like Tangled!” was her reply.

We agreed with her that of course the magical fairy lights were there to keep us safe and guide us home.

When we finally got home, our little Rapunzel was asleep before her head had properly settled into her pillow.  We drank cups of tea, both pretty bemused by the cuteness of the whole conversation.

The reality was that because she’s always at home in bed by 7.30pm, she’s never been in town in the dark; well, not that she remembers anyway.

And she taught us a lesson.  Because while Mammy and Daddy saw nothing but the familiar streetlamps along the town streets, if we had bothered, we could have seen something much more exciting and wonderful.

rapunzel

Through the eyes of a three year old, the industrial sized orange light-bulbs were actually the magical glow of the fairies who were lighting the road to make sure that our wee family made it home safely.

So while I like to think that I am good at seeing the extraordinary in the ordinary, I’m only a novice in comparison to Mini-me!  But I’ll never look at the streetlamps in the same way again.

I wish I had her perspective of the world and I hope that Mini-Me always sees her world through her extraordinary little eyes.

I am Streetlamp  Mum. 🙂

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