As we all know, nappies are expensive. I fully support the ladies who use the cloth nappies, but I am being honest here. I have 3 children, my own business and I do not have the time (or the energy) for cloth nappies. So I am always on the search for cheaper nappies.
I have found these Pampers Baby Dry Nappies, Size 4 (Total 174 Nappies) on Amazon for £20.02 (instead of £30.00)
Today is a fuck you day. Fuck you to the world. Fuck you to the snotty woman at the garage who refused to aknowledge me until I was stood at the counter. I was the only one in the shop but obviously inspecting the dirt on the window was far more important than a paying customer. This woman who picked up the wrong size pouch of tobacco and rang it through the till while I was fumbling around my purse for money, to then give me the filthiest look when I told her that was the wrong size pouch (I did not have enough money for a big pouch!) like I had done something wrong. That got my back right up. You work here love, not me. You rang it through the till so unless you want me to jump over the counter and press cancel transaction, for which I will then be working for you and will expect paying DO NOT look at me with that exasperated glare. I stared sheer venom at this woman. You rude old trout!!! Once she had put the correct pouch in front of me I told her “this is 12.5g isnt it”.
Her reply “I dont go by grams but if you say it is then ok”
So when she handed me my penny change I gave a sarcastic smile and bit my lip all the way out of the shop about her customer service skills.
Maybe I was taking my mood out on her I don’t know. My eldest is on day 5 of severe tonsillitis. The 7th episode this year and the 2nd visit to A&E. My youngest decided after, changing his bum, getting him dressed, fighting with his snowsuit as it is getting to small for him, all ready to go….and he shits! That has been the recurring scene today. He has filled 5 nappies with the pungent smell of last nights roast and just to add insult to injury he then puked on the office floor while we sat sorting the paperwork. He has pulled at the blinds, smacked the TV, tried to peel the wallpaper and generally just been a little bugger….he went to bed half an hour early tonight.Bathtime tonight gave me two crying children. After putting the baby and my 8 year old in together I put the shower head on to wash my daughter’s waist length hair. Mum Error Alert. I put the hot water on first…Cue crying 8 year old as the water decides to continue out of the tap and not out of the shower head thus meaning the HOT but not scalding water hit her leg. Me in a panic, tries to flick the stupid switches to get it off her leg and what does my poor baba do? Touches the water. I could of cried with him 😦 Both are ok, no damage or burns but a lot of tears.
I decided to start reading my little man a bedtime story each night. He likes to sit on my knee and have his milk whilst I read to him. Ella my 8 year old has a turn too so she gets reading practice and I feel that I am gaining some good mummy badges. Rather than shushing them through Emmerdale, the sky plus box comes into action and its story time! It has been going so well until tonight when Tatun decides to dick around. Lets splash mummy with the milk, lets whack her on the head with the bottle while she reads. Lets grab the book so she has to bend her neck into ungodly angles to finish the sentence. Three pages in and several warnings enough was enough. Teeth brushed and say night night to your sisters. I looked into my beautiful little boy’s innocent blue eyes and asked for a kiss. I stroked his hair and bent down to kiss my gorgeous little boy.
One final smack in the chops from him was what I got.
I love him to each corner of the earth. But he can be a little tosser at times.
Lesson 5. It is ok to have an F you day. Sometimes like throws a whole bag of shite in your direction and when you catch it, it leaks all over you. Some days everything goes wrong, everything pisses you off, and you laugh because you don’t want to cry. But I treasure these days in a strange way. Because one day, not to far from now, he will not need me to change his bum or read him stories. Ella will not need me to wash her hair or Mia will not need me to get her a cold flannel for her fever. So keep smiling mums and dads. It’s just an F you day.