The Law of Sod.

Sod’s Law seems to come into play at least once on a daily basis in my house. All those other mums out there are milling around calmly, looking all in control and on the ball whilst I fly by the seat of my pants the majority of the time.

Here are  just a few of my most recent examples of Sod’s law which show just how fantastic I am at juggling all my balls at one time…

  1. I thought I was doing bloody great at multi tasking by putting Little B in a sling to do jobs, ended up wrapping him too high, (having to stick with it as he was shattered and crying and needed to sleep) so had no choice but to sit down for his entire nap with my chin in the air looking at the ceiling.

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2. We were running late for school and Middle F decided to walk the whole trip backwards, just what you need when you’re in a hurry, especially down dog shit alley…

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3. I tried to communicate with Middle F to decipher what he wanted for dinner and he insisted on doing it with the toilet bin on his head. I couldn’t make out a thing he was saying other than a few muffled noises and echoing shouts…

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4. Middle F wanted to watch a DVD,  Little B was tired and crying through desperation to sleep. I thought I was totally in control and would put the DVD on quickly first so that I could concentrate on getting  Little B to sleep whilst my other son was busy and safely watching TV. However he decided to ‘choose’ the DVD with the toilet bin back on his head so couldn’t  see a fricking thing and the whole process took hours…cue baby meltdown…

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5. I had one clean, sterile dummy left. Chuffed that I was so organised and had it ready to go on the side, I  grabbed it and gave it to little B. He spat it straight out in anger, directly into the potty of wee that Middle F had just that second filled…

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6. I needed to make an Easter bonnet with Big T for school, I thought I had enough resources and knew there was a chick left over from last year somewhere. After a mega rummage, I couldn’t  believe my luck when I actually found the last chick….and then saw that the poor bugger looked like this…

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7. The Easter bonnet needed to be re-thought, I decided to plump for a nest job made out of painted string dipped in PVA glue and wound round a balloon. It looked the dog’s bollocks and I even did it whilst my baby was napping in a sling on me AND cooking the dinner. BOOM!

Big T got so excited the next day to see it and thinking it was dry, he popped the balloon. It was not dry. Shit.

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8. Plan B…needed something other than the string nest to go on the bonnet…Big T had the idea of an egg box (bloody good idea) he came running through from the kitchen, clutching it in his sweaty little palms and accidentally dropped the whole thing. One egg landed on the rug/mat and the other on laminate flooring. Middle F wanted to investigate the commotion and walked straight into the egg on the floor, skidding all over it repeatedly like Bambi on ice, 2 minutes before leaving for school. God. Help. Me.

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9. Middle F went through a phase of always wanting to wear a hat. That’s fine, although the hat he chose wasn’t  actually a hat, it’s the lid of a Lego storage box that doesn’t remotely stay on. Just perfect for walks in Hanningfield reservoir and Sainsburys…

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Was pleased however to walk into the kitchen and discover he was keen to share it…

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10. I sat down to breastfeed, switched the TV on, had my drink right beside me, was good to go. Prepared for anything. I began to feed, so couldn’t move, and was just beginning to  feel a little smug that I’d even remembered the remote control this time. I went to change the channel and discovered that although Middle F was able to park his fire engine anywhere in the whole entire room that morning, he decided upon a spot directly in front of the TV sensor so was stuck watching this pretty face for half an hour instead…

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There would be hundreds more examples of Sod’s Law that happen under this roof, and out of it, all the time.

Those ‘Holy Crap’ moments that are your ‘laugh or cry’ moments, your ‘fight or flight’ moments that leave you deciding whether to deal with it head on or run a million miles away from the chaos. Luckily I hate running and have only done it a couple of times since Sixth Form, where I fell flat on my face in front of a packed bus stop and building site running for a bus. I grazed my knees at 17 years of age. I then found out that the bus wasn’t even mine. Another example of Sod’s bloody law.

One of the other few times I’ve run since that was when I caught Moddle F after running across that road and floored us both on the pavement followed by him peeing all down my coat.

Not sure running is for me, so therefore better stick around still trying to master the ‘in control’ look, might have some success after 18 years perhaps…..??!

 

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