My husband says I am out of touch. He thinks I am no longer part of the adult world and requests that, until I have time to catch up, I should avoid getting into conversations involving certain subjects.
Pop culture for one is a no go (something to do with me talking about an Amy Winehouse song), and technical matters are now forbidden. I called his Blackberry a Blueberry and he didn’t believe me when I said it was a joke (in truth, he was right not to). So, I have decided to get back in the loop. I am going to prove I have the down low, or the low down, and that I am able to discuss matters that go intellectually deeper than Igglepiggle and Granny Murray. And what better way to prove my new up-to-date thinking to my internet junkie husband, Will, than create my very own Twitter account? So, providing I can work out where to go to set up a Twitter, what to do when I get there, learn a completely new language and persuade him to get me a Blackberry, or whatever it’s called, my Twitter would go something like this.
7am: My children are both out of bed and playing quietly whilst I catch up with the day’s news.
Wait a minute. Who am I trying to kid? Let’s start that again.
7am: Sam is awake and I can hear him talking to himself over the baby monitor. It’s time to get up.
7.05am: Still in bed listening to Sam.
7.10am: Still in bed listening to Sam. I’m starting to feel guilty.
7.11am: Will has got up and I can hear him talking to Sam. Guilt starting to lift.
8am: Will has gone to work. It’s just me and the babies for the next 12 hours.
8.02am: I’m alone with a tantruming toddler and a screaming baby. They are setting each other off! I can’t take anymore.
8.10am: Going out.
8.45am: Everyone fed and dressed; clean nappies all round and we are out the door.
8.50am: Back in the flat. Joe did a poo at the lift door.
9am: Clean nappies all round again. Okay. We’re off.
9.15am: In the mall. I am feeling immensely bored already, but Sam is enjoying himself and Joe is having a good look around.
9.30am: Oh no. Sam has just thrown one of his dinosaurs at a startled shopper. Poor man literally didn’t know what hit him. How embarrassing.
9.50am: Stuck in the queue at the supermarket. This is supposed to be a 10 items or under. 10 or under. Get it? Grrrr!
9.55am: Feeling uncomfortable. Still in 10 or under and one of mine has done another poo…
10am: Hope it’s not Sam because he has also just rammed a finger up each nostril and is smiling at the woman in front.
10.01am: She is not amused. Got to get out of here.
11.30am: Home and both babies having a sleep. My turn.
11.45am: Or not. Can’t sleep so going to do something productive. Baking maybe.
11.50am: Or maybe just watch TV and have a cuppa.
11.55am: Joe is awake. Do all children hear the kettle click when it’s boiled, or is it just mine?
1pm: Sam has finally woken up. Time for lunch and some serious thinking; I need an afternoon activity that doesn’t involve a mall or TV.
1.10pm: Sam wants the TV on. I have to resist the TV.
1.15pm: Mustn’t put the TV on. I will count to 100. Should have thought of something else by then.
1.18pm: Nemo will do. He hasn’t watched that for a while.
1.20pm: I’ve got it. Papier mache. Found a dedicated website, too. www.papiermache.co.uk. So much to choose from. Flowers, cats, tiki masks. Ah, a simple bowl it is then!
2pm: It’s all going wrong. The floor is covered in flour glue.
2.30pm: Joe has a streak of flour glue across his head.
3pm: Sam has painted his legs with flour glue. I don’t know why I started this.
4pm: Hope Joe likes showers.
4.30pm: After a lot of scrubbing, we are all clean. Flour glue doesn’t seem to wash out so well, but what’s left will probably rub off as the evening goes on.
5pm: Tea time! Nothing cooked. Took too long with papier mache.
5.05pm: Spaghetti hoops! Perfect.
5.45pm: Note to self. Spaghetti hoops equals second bath.
6pm: It’s nearly bedtime. Just one hour to go. What to do?
6.01pm: 100! TV on. In The Night Garden is about bedtime, so it’s not only calming, for me at least, it’s also educational. It teaches children to go to bed.
7pm: Sam down. Joe to go.
7.30pm: He’s asleep. I love watching him sleep. It won’t last. As soon as I put him down he’ll wake up.
7.45pm: He’s awake, but Will’s home. His turn.
8pm: Like all good dads across the world, Will is winding a previously sleeping baby up into a giggling frenzy.
8.01pm: He’s all yours. My work is done here. Good luck and good night.