Today was the first day that I had the twins back in daycare, I had taken them out for 6 months because Rumi’s immune system just didn’t seem to take it, he basically picks up every bug within a kilometre radius. Now I feel that he is ready, strong, my little He-Man.
I took the kids to School, Billie-Violet ran to class, Arlo sat down in his kindy room. I watched him writing his little name, tongue out in concentration, I pondered for a second the shit I’ve been reading lately from the Politically correct Parenting Police the “PPP” ( I just made that up! #legend), apparently now we aren’t even supposed to kiss our kids on the lips, all of these beautiful little kids sitting around us, all of their mums watching them lovingly, who the fuck are the PPP to tell these beautiful Queens how to love their kids – the world’s gone mad. I couldn’t give two fucks what the PPP say, as I give Arlo a full lipped huge kiss on his delicious little lips, he appreciates the closeness and leave him for the day.
I drop the twins off, don’t look back, no tears I’m skipping out the door. Thank fuck for some space.
Straight home, straight passed all of my house work (no way in hell I’m wasting my first child free day cleaning) and straight back to bed.
Bill hasn’t left yet, he had some paper work to do before he left. He watches me climb back into bed and surely thinks but dares not say anything about our hard earned money going on daycare so that I can lie in bed with my iPhone all day..
Bill understands my thorough belief that every single mother deserves an entire day where they do not work and do not have their children, it’s so much easier to love when you’ve had a chance to catch your breath.
He comes to give me a kiss before he goes, something about being kid free gives me a vixen sultry sex goddess vibe and I lure him in for a much needed quicky, I can guarantee there will be no complaints about my lack of cleaning today #win.
I immediately contemplate the pregnancy issue, I had promised myself not to #bangbill until he got his snip, the appointments not till April though and we were starting to feel like flat mates again. Oh well, cross my fingers.
Daycare calls me, Rumi is sick. Gotta be fucking kidding me, he was fine this morning. I snap at them, mildly accuse them of purposely sending him home to lower their work load. They insist I come to get him.
I walk in, poor baby is really sick. I scoop him up embarrassed and try not to make eye contact with the woman who called me. #shitmum.
I take him straight to the doctors, really hot doctor calls Rumi’s name. Asks me what the symptoms are. I freeze and just keep staring at him. “Constance?” Hot doc says. Fuck I completely tuned out. I realise I’m not wearing shoes and I’m in the same dress I wore yesterday, the same dress I just #bangedbill in. I snap out of it and get my boy some antibiotics. Note to self, wax before Pap smear 😉👌🏼
I call everyone I know to find someone to do school run. Everyone’s busy, my mums says she’s busy seeing her new boyfriend, my step dad’s too stoned, my brothers abandoned me to go surfing. I drive to the school and request the kids early, Rumi’s too sick to get him home and then out again for school run, he’s 40 degrees and so is the weather.
We all get home, Bill gets home. He’s still being husband of the year because he got rooted. He agrees to take Rumi and pick Snow up later so the kids and I can go to the beach.
Like always, the beach clears our heads. I’m in love with my kids again.
We get home, we all shower and I do a naked dance that incorporates all of my wobbly spots wobbling away, the kids laugh. I get dressed, do dinner, get them all into bed with me and plant big intense kisses on their beautiful little faces. The PPP would be having a seizure.
Bill’s still stoked. I should #bangbill more often.