Summer time

Four mums and 11 children have just destroyed the peace at a stunningly idyllic open garden. 

Well, idyllic til we rocked up. Then it was pure 'ideous.

There was a light saber moment, an overdose of Coke sugar rush moment, a toddler trying to do a stand up wee through his trousers moment, a ten-year-old tweenie stopping to apply a zillion layers of lipgloss moment, a boob falling out of blouse when baby refused it at the last minute moment (OK that last one was me) and then a Five Boys Fall Out moment.

But the Husband will come home from work and say "So how was your stroll and coffee with your friends?" In a way that will make it sound like it was a relaxing Ladies Who Lunch affair.

It was nuts.

In fact the Prince has just put himself to bed to recover, which tells you just how full-on it was!

Three are returning in an hour to have tea once they have brushed the mud off their jeans and calmed down. Glutton for punishment, huh?

So, tomorrow is the last day of the summer holidays and my dear, sweet darlings return to school. I can practically hear my party poppers fire from all angles at the thought of it.....no, we have had a blast but now I am ready for a little more peace in my world again. And a mooch around cherry tree shops as that hasn't happened in weeks.

Apparently now we are due an Indian Summer.  Summer was so good on the south coast, I feel greedy but I just can't face autumn and winter. I am an utter sun worshipper. This is how it looked over the past few months.

The Prince and Princess are in these deckchairs....Zzzzzzzzz.

Having little sneaky naps........

Love having my baby by the sea.......

Not sure why the Prince chose to wear his Christmas jumper in August but there we go...........

Cooling off hot feet......

sleepy summery siestas......

Pimms Of course!

And so I hope we get a little more warm golden shine before the cruel cold weather sets in.

'cos it makes me a right grumpy old fruit and that will never do!

Stop! Kiddy Time.

The Prince has told me that when he dies, he won't go to Heaven. Oh no. He will go to Prison.

Soooo funny but if I laugh he then goes nuts at me so I have to hold my emotions in but then I feel like I might explode, which is never good in this heat.

He is football obsessed and won't believe me when I tell him daily that the World Cup is over.

"Mum, I love the teams. I like Argentina because he is a nice player."

I have given up explaining who are players and who are teams.

He also loves watching "Shilly" and "Ockstralia" and refuses to believe it's all over, even though he knows Germany won. He is such a funny kid.

Totally Lionel Messi mad.

And so the kids have broken up from school. They break up and I break down.

Actually, I have a good feeling about the summer holidays this year. No one will push their sibling in a pond, complete with MASSIVE fish this year...

I took it upon myself to hit the cherry tree shops yesterday while it was just Sweet Childe and I, as the other two aren't keen on second hand retail dreams.

I bought a couple of bits for the baby including this cute MotherCare sundress which was 75p. 

The other purchases are currently drying on the washing line. I forgot to bring the washing in tonight, I also forgot to water the plants. Call it sleep deprivation...no one sleeps well in this heat.

But ain't the weather great? Apart from the fact it makes men take their tops off. Men who shouldn't take their tops off. That's the downside to the UK summer.

In other news, I have been baking cheese and spinach muffins for the baby from the Baby Led Weaning Cook Book and Sweet Child loves them.

I walked to the sea yesterday. I saw an elderly lady try to cross the road on her motorised scooter and felt I should help her as there was a lot of traffic. She told me she thought I was her grand daughter.

Her grand daughter who is 24!!! Go me!!!!! I am 39 in September and so was naturally cock-a-hoop until she said "Yes, you have her build and everything." which kind of ruined it for me as that can only mean one thing. 

And then I popped into Dorothy Perkins and asked for some white linen trousers. The assistant went to look for some and came back all apologetic because she only had size 10s left and looked at me as if to say "so obviously they won't fit you you oversized saggy baggy old mare". Again, my cock-a-hoopness had dwindled. 

But who cares when this is the reason for my lack of time to sort myself out. I love this perfect bundle. 

I tried to get a nice pic of me and the two little ones this week while the Princess was at drama. But only got the out takes below and gave up. 

Yikes it is midnight. I have been up since 5am and Sweet Childe will wake in the next two hours to guzzle and then the Prince will have a night terror.

Tomorrow is a long and lazy beach day with one of my dearest friends, so I shall update afterwards. 

Not a laugh in the bath

I have a new ploy to get my children into the bath each night, because it was becoming too much like hard work.

After requesting nicely, in my calmest voice, for each of the older ones to get in the bath last night, I waited and waited and...waited.

"Yeah hang on, in a minute," was all that I got.

I asked again, drumming my fingers. Then I instructed. Then I ordered.

Then I screeched a little. But I hate screeching. 

Yet still, no one was listening and my blood was starting to boil.

So I left them both in the living room, went upstairs, grabbed my new Prima magazine which I still hadn't had chance to read, added more bubbles to the tub,  stripped off and decided to indulge in some serious sud soaking.

"Ah! This is the life," I thought to myself as I reclined and turned the first page of my glossy mag.

Within three minutes I was interrupted by both children, who demanded to know where I was, what I was doing and "why the heck" was I in the bath.

I made them wait for me to have a ten minute bath...not quite as long as I had anticipated...and then finally each of them got in. 

Me skulking off to have quiet Me Time is a guaranteed way of getting them to do as I ask.

It reminds me of a few weeks ago. Both of the older children were watching mindless TV, Bondi Rescue, as I recall (actually that is a rather guilty pleasure of mine too, gotta love a bit of the lifeguards Hoppo, Chappo and Whippet tearing through the surf to save a life). Anyway I digress.

A few weeks ago I decided to run a long, luxurious bath with my gorgeous Ren rose oil while the kids were busy lolling about downstairs.

With a lavish hand I swirled plenty of the expensive rose oil in the water, climbed in and bathed in seventh heaven.

For thirty whole seconds.

Suddenly out of nowhere the Prince appeared, tearing his clothes off.

"WOAH, what are you doing?" I demanded.

But before he could answer, he was already in the bath with me, thrashing around like a slippery eel.

Then he smiled with a self satisfied face and uttered those dreaded words.

"I have just done a wee."

I was out of that water faster than Tom Daley dives in. 

The Prince then looked at me and said "Mum, can I get out now please? The water smells of stupid roses".

You couldn't make it up. I guess I will look back on all this and laugh one day. Probably.

In other news, I haven't been cherry tree shopping this week as have been very busy but I did get my hair done which only happens once in a blue moon.

I am not a fan of the selfie these days as think it looks very smug, but man, if you had seen my hair before this, I was like an 80s throwback. And not in a good way.

The Charity Shop Bug

I am a little off cherry tree shops this week (I know!)

I am quite miffed actually. Firstly I was in one on Saturday, in second hand heaven, when the assistant loudly announced "If anyone here is a size 18, I have just put out some lovely brand new jeans."

She then made a point of saying it again while edging closer in my direction. I turned around to see who else was in the shop, and saw a girl behind me who was a size 10, and it slowly dawned on me that the comment was aimed in my direction. There were no other customers, just the slim girl and me.

Now, there is nothing wrong with being a size 18, I have been there...twice. But when you are not a size 18, when you are two sizes less than an 18 and haven't eaten chocolate for three whole days, you can't help but feel offended. I was gutted.

I looked at the shop assistant, looked around me, shrugged my shoulders and carried on hunting.

"They really are a bargain. Brand new as well," she smiled at me.

I looked at her and said "And if someone who comes in happens to be a size 18, you should definitely point them in the right direction. But only as long as you are confident they are a size 18 and you won't offend them..." I smiled back.

Then I picked up a size 12 dress and said "I shall take this one please,  it will fit perfectly."

I shall return it next week when she isn't working, I couldn't even fit it over my boobs. Gah!

My other experience that has put me off cherry tree shops happened yesterday.

I popped into my favourite one on the way to collect the Prince from school and needed to kill time as I was early.

I started browsing the books. A dear little girl came out from behind the counter and started admiring Sweet Child.

"She's a pretty baby, please can I see her?" She asked timidly.

"Of course you can, but try not to touch her." I said. I said it as I am a little fed up with people touching Sweet Child around her face and I don't like to think that perhaps they haven't washed their hands etc etc. 

The girl's mum came out from the stock room and smiled. Her daughter kept passing Sweet Child toys and then touched her face. I admit it's tempting, my baby has a cute face and is very smiley.

"Try not to touch her face," I reminded her.

The little girl followed me all around the shop, commenting on everything I was looking at. After a while it was a bit tiring. I wanted a quiet browse.

She handed Sweet Child a toy which went straight in my baby's mouth, natch.

"So how old are you?" I asked her.

She told me she was four and I asked if she was starting  school in September.

"No, I have already started school but I didn't go today because I was sick all day yesterday and again today," she said, while reaching out towards my baby for the umpteenth time.

I look at her mother who was smiling behind the counter.

"Excuse me, is it true that your daughter has a sick bug?" I enquired.

She nodded.

"So I don't think your little girl should be anywhere near my baby do you?!?! I am surprised that you have just been standing there watching her touch my baby for the past ten minutes. I can't risk my baby getting ill and I also have two other children." I said in my incredulous voice. I was livid. LIVID I tell thee.

She looked as if it hadn't dawned on her, weakly apologised and I walked out. Not to return until I stop seething. Some people really infuriate me.

ANYWAY, here is Sweet Child enjoying her first summer by the sea and then scoffing her first ice cream while modelling her latest cherry tree frock. Oh and finally showing her undying love for her big brother.

Talking of Big Brother, is anyone actually watching it? Me neither. The BB bug is one I definitely don't want to catch.