Don't worry love, I'll look after the kids.........

Don't worry love. I'll look after the kids..............................

How do these words resonate in your ears? Do they leave you feeling relaxed and happy or slightly nervous and on edge?

I most definitely fall into the latter category.

Most Saturdays, whether I like it or not, I have to catch up with work. I still have my little one at home with me for the majority of the week, so I really need some Cheeky Pickle time at the weekend and Saturday always seems best.

So I thought I would write a few words describing a typical Saturday in my house.

6am - The alarm goes off and I wake up, full of beans and excited at the prospect of a "full day" that can be dedicated to creating and catching up with work. I try to get up early as I know this will be the only day of the week that I will have the opportunity to get in a good 4 hour slot of solid work. So I get up, leaving everybody slumbering and go for a run. I love running, it clears my head and helps me to think in a straight line without having children interrupting my thought process.

7.30/8.00am - I'm back, feeling fantastic and looking forward to a day of peace, without any distractions. I walk through the door and my enthusiasm starts to wane a little. My eldest child, who is only 7, but has somehow miraculously transformed into a super lazy teenager overnight, is lounged on the sofa, eyes glued to the T.V. I don't know about you, but in my house, if the T.V is on, especially in the morning, then nothing happens and nothing gets done.

As I slowly glance around the room, I see what can only be described as a bomb site! My mind races. They must have only been up an hour! How could they have caused so much havoc? As my eyes finally settle on the kitchen, I see Little Miss number 2, starkers and with her head stuck in the fridge.

Now my little pocket rocket is very different from Little Miss lazy-teenager-in- the- making. Having been ignored on too many occasions, she has adapted an "I can do it all by myself" attitude. So with head stuck in the fridge and singing a merry little tune (she is always happy), I nervously open the fridge a little wider to see what she has been up to "all by herself" Let's just say that she has managed to get the jam jar and the yogurt pot open and the words rather and sticky feature heavily in my mind.

Meanwhile I glance around the room to see where hubbie is. What hits my eyes is an immaculate sight. Sat promptly at the breakfast table, showered, dressed and eating a beautifully made, healthy breakfast. Not to mention the newspaper and cup of tea, freshly brewed and laid out neatly in front of him. Mmm....very nice! "Morning love" he chirps. "Enjoy your run? Don't you worry about a thing. I'll look after the kids today. You go and do your "stuff"" My eyes widen. I tear a sticky, jammy, yogurty pocket rocket away from the fridge and stomp past him to the bathroom.

9am - I have managed to feed the kids and get them dressed. I have cleaned the mess up in the kitchen, hoovered, mopped and fed a ravenously hungry dog. My enthusiasm is now waning even more as I trudge upstairs, hungry, still sweaty from my run and rather tired. As I step into the shower, hubster is "busy" on the computer. Busy, my backside. A quick glance and it's usually Top Gear or What Car? that I can see on the screen. What Car?...now there's a blog in itself. He's been looking at What Car? for years. By the time he finally chooses What Car is right for us, they won't be making it anymore!!!

Anyway, whats the point in getting cross. The sooner I get them all up, dressed, fed and out of the house, the sooner I can get some work done.

As I step out of the shower, I hear the click of the front door and my body instantly relaxes. Ahhhhh......peace! O.K, I relax for all of 2 seconds before the race is on. I look at the clock. 9.30. I have all of two and a half hours (if I'm lucky) before they return, demanding lunch. I quickly dress and run downstairs to throw some breakfast down my neck. As I turn around, I see a present waiting for me on the rug. A whole bottom floor of polished floor boards and one measly rug. Dougal the Cavoodle, wagging his tail excitedly, has done a whoopsie right in the middle of said rug. Thanks Dougal, I thought you were on my side mate!

10am -I finally sit down at my desk. O.K, I have two hours, if I'm lucky, to "create," to think lovely thoughts and to try and come up with some fantastic, innovative art pieces....... Nah, it just ain't gonna happen is it? All I can think about is that in two hours time, the house is going to be total mayhem again,I still haven't put the washing on, there is a stack of ironing to do and don't get me started on the kids bedroom!

So I sigh an even deeper sigh than I did before, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders and hearing a rather loud ticking clock clanging in my head. So, thinking proactively, I jump onto the computer and decide to get on with some mundane tasks like catching up on e mails, invoices e.t.c

12pm - Before you can say "stop kidding yourself and get off Facebook, you lazy cow!" I can hear the crunch of tyres coming up the drive and my heart starts to beat a little faster. The door flies open and before I know it I can hear two little munchkins running up the stairs, with smiling faces and arms loaded with goodies.


You know what I'm talking about. These girls have their dad wrapped around their little finger. They wait very patiently for Saturday morning (when their tight arsed mother isn't around) and using all their girly charms, they pounce like panthers. I find it fascinating to see just how early these little girls learn how to use their feminine charms and boy oh boy do they like to practice on their daddy.

So as I glance down at all their wares, I can see that they have taken dad to the newsagents for ridiculously expensive Princess type magazines, that will never get read, and to the $2 shop for bits of crap that they won't look at tomorrow and will most probably have broken within the hour anyway!

Another deep sigh!

Realising that work must now stop, I begrudgingly walk downstairs to find hubby unpacking numerous bags of food (I only went shopping the day before!) Silently I nosey through the bags, I then open the fridge and gesture to the larder, which is full to brimming. "But they were on special love" Mmmm.....twenty HUGE bananas. WHAT are we going to do with twenty huge bananas. DON'T tempt me ladies!

It never ceases to amaze me just how much money my husband can waste, sorry, spend in a two hour time frame on a Saturday morning.I mean it's just ridiculous. I spend all week trying to be frugal and making do with what is left in the fridge, and then at the weekend he just blows it all in. And what on?.........

HUGE bananas and half the local $2 shop.

I watch him as he collapses onto the sofa. Raising my eyebrows, our eyes meet. "Oh it's exhausting love! I don't know how you do it, every day with two kids...." What's he done? NOT got them dressed, NOT fed them, NOT cleaned the house. He's been bloomin' shopping! Staying calm (it is only 12 o'clock remember) I monotonously unpack the bags, trying to find a bowl big enough for  the HUGE bananas and start to prepare lunch.

2pm - Everyone fed, washing up done and a few $2 shop toys already broken and in the bin. Finally, I'm back to work. O.K. I may just get two solid hours before the dinner time rush kicks in. I do manage to get some work done in this time...Hooray! The hubster has now taken the kids off to Bunnings (B&Q equivalent in the U.K) and has come back, wallet once again much lighter, with a car loaded with "stuff" that will never get used. O.K, let's give him the benefit of the doubt, these things may get used....once. I know I sound awful bagging my dear husband like this, but trust me, we have a whole garage full of "stuff" from Bunnings.

4pm - I hear hubby shout "don't worry love, I'll make the kids dinner". Once again I am filled with fear. The last time he said those words, I came down stairs to see them both sat at the table with two slices of bread in front of them. Honestly, I do not tell a lie. When questioned, he said "well, there's butter on it...." Can you see what I'm dealing with here?

So being given an extra hour, I go back upstairs and finish off. In the back of my mind, I'm dreading the 5.30 clean up.

5.30pm - I go downstairs. My husband is lay on the sofa, a nervous wreck, muttering to himself "it's too much, I want to go back to work......" Leaving him there, I just get on with it. Tidy up, wash up, clean up, mop up, bath the kids, P.J's on, read story, put to bed, put back in bed............... By now my husband has recovered enough (funny that isn't it?) and is sat with beer in hand and is lovingly cooking me a meal.

8pm - I sigh, I sit down, glass of wine in hand and with my back to the kitchen, which is once again, an absolute mess! Why is it that when men cook, they use every single utensil, cup, plate, pan and spoon that is in the kitchen? I can't bare the thought of clearing up yet again and already I'm dreading Sunday morning.

I look over at my hubby, he's smiling, slightly drunk maybe. "What a day" he says "wooo hooo, it was bloomin' hard work, but at least you had a rest hey love......"

Mmmm.....now where is that dirty frying pan?