Treasures from the Cherry Tree: March 2014

Well it's 10pm and I've just called Time at the Bra for the next few hours while Sweet Child sleeps and am now attempting a blog post. It's been a while, so how have you been? Oh really? Better get some cream for that...

And here I am, bedraggled from another solo weekend while the Husband toils in the office. On three hours sleep (don't ask....but seeing that you have, it involved Sweet Child , an explosive nappy, the husband coming in from the late shift, the Prince crying out twice, sick on my shoulder, the Prince then coming into our bed saying his feet hurt, Sweet Child refusing to hear my cries of Time at the Bra, me balancing precariously on the edge of our bed and then the Prince wanting to start the day at 6am...)

Meanwhile the Princess spends a full ten hours in peaceful slumber, and then wakes up luxuriously late complaining that she is "utterly shattered" and so another long day commences in this House of Horrors.

But you know what? I hold on to the good and bad times.These days are precious. One day I shall look back on these halycon days and yearn to turn the clock back. I have no social life outside children right now, but it won't be forever. I try not to moan about needing a bigger bed to fit all these children in during the early hours, because one day my bed will be cold and empty and I will miss those times we crammed in because someone had a bad dream about Darth Vader, someone had wind (the baby, not us!) and someone was stressed about school work.

It's chaos, it's messy, it's a right flipping juggling act and it's so exhausting I feel I am fighting narcolepsy sometimes, but I am also proud of the fact I am doing so much of it alone. And Sweet Child totally completes our family (although if I am honest, I'd like more, if I could guarantee I'd love it as much as I've loved this pregnancy/birth/baby lark).

Just look at her! Three months old tomorrow.

It's not all plain sailing, mind. The Husband usually takes the Prince and Princess swimming first thing on a Saturday morning for the Princess's lesson. I usually remind him to watch them, not leave one behind (he is a little absent minded to tell you the truth) and to ensure no one gets injured.

Last week I took them all swimming as he was working earlier. Sweet Child was in my Kari Me wrap sling (Best. Thing. Ever), and as we walked from the car park to the leisure centre, the Prince decided to see how fast he could run. And then tripped and head butted a wall....hard.

He staggered into the leisure centre sobbing, he had an Humpty-sized egg on his forehead and had a starring role in the centre's accident log book. Sooooo awkward that it had to happen on my watch and not the Husband's. Then both kids fell in the sea after chasing the waves, despite me warning them of the perils of turning their back on the tide. It makes me look like a right slapdash mum but in truth, I am a helicopter mother, I hover over them, I can't help it. But occasionally I take a short break. And that's when it goes wrong.

Anyway, this is when it goes right.