So my mum started losing sleep last week about the state of the bigger boys’ bedroom.
I had just given up hope.
She kick-started the cleanup and three bags of rubbish and over an hour later three people had cleaned up the room to a point that it is still clean.
I am not kidding.
Then she told me she was going to attack Chef and my room.
So I just had to pull the proverbial out and get started in there.
Let’s just say that the dust was such that it triggered my allergies to such an extent a horse tablet of antihistamine didn’t have much affect.
But you know what?
I think I am sleeping better because the bedroom is clean.
Anyway, she’s checking the boys’ room every morning to check there are no clothes on the floor and that they’ve made their beds.
Seriously, sometimes it’s like I’m 15 all over again.
I am in charge of the washing.
I have taken the boys to the beach every day for about a week.
I need to take a moment to update you all on the Grovemeister.
This kid floors me every.single.day.
He knows when he needs to do a wee. When we’re at my inlaws for a swim he gets out of the pool to do it.
He says mum,dad, botbot, bohboh (his favourite toy), toot-toot, dup (for yes), wee, poo and so many more. He natters away in little conversations all the time and you get little phrases where you can pick the intonation like, I wanna get done, I’m done, I did a poo.
But it’s not so much the talking and the words as it is the intent.
This kid knows what he wants and when he wants it.
Tonight he woke up at 9.30pm with a “MUM! MUM! Iwannabotbot. MUUUUUM”
I mean, how can you not pay that? There were no tears, no melodrama, just a very simple I’m awake and come get me.
Anyway, he drank his bottle and was then looking at me going ‘toot toot, dup’ and off he went to play with Thomas the Effing Engine.
Turns out he needed to do another poo and once that was out was fairly willing to go back to bed.
When we were at the beach this morning it was way into his nap-time and he got caught offguard by a wave.
I scooped him up and he was all ‘bye, bye’ at the waves and pointing up the beach (in the direction of home) ‘dup’ and when we didn’t make moves in that direction? Oh LORDY be the screaming that was unleashed.
The holding of breath.
Until I said, ‘do you want to go home?’
Instant stop of tantrum replaced with a very calm ‘dup’
‘Do you want a bot bot?’
and that is how every day goes. The determination, the assuredness in his actions, the sheer bloody will just make me very very nervous. I mean, I have to hide the kitchen stool if I want any chance of getting dinner made without him destroying the other bench or cooking various foodstuffs and utensils in the microwave that he has worked out how to use. I’m not kidding.
With a huge thank you to the Mighty Mary who took these shots of my wee chap on the weekend.