The title about sums up this morning. Although it's every morning. Every single morning without respite or relief. And it's driving me all kinds of crazy.
So yesterday we had an inset day and I spent the morning in the launderette (seeing how the other half live, as someone said to me - I won't name and shame). It was a generally ok experience. The manager was cheerily sexist in his commentary to me as I loaded the machines - 'You'll be wanting to turn your trousers inside out', 'Have you checked the pockets for tissues', 'Whites.. in with those... oh nevermind' and the rather wonderful 'I thought you ladies were all pre-programmed to know how to do the housework'. He did keep his bollocks... but only just. I came so close... so close...
And then I struggled home with all three kids and a ton of now wet washing to remember that the tumble drier isn't connected and we have nowhere to dry the clothes. So they sat in the basket all day til the other one came home and connected the drier. And then the drier took four hours to gently warm the damp clothes and this morning my son told me he had no trousers for school.
And then I realised his trousers never made it into the failed first batch of drying in any case. So that's where the wet trousers came in. I usually holler at the kids for running ahead of me on the school journey - this morning I actively encouraged any opportunity to get a breeze flowing through his apparel. I hadn't realised why the daughter was screaming as I ran out the house to get the pushchair from the car at the last minute though until she explained, sobbing, that she hadn't yet got her cardigan on. I wondered why, until I understood she'd been spending precious time fixing socks to her hands instead. I still don't know why she did that.
Life with kids is rarely dull. It's certainly never quiet, either.
