I'm sure there is a latent irony in reading about all the quaint 'Good Mother' activities you could be doing with your spawn, whilst you allow them to sit conversing with The Wiggles, that happen to be on the TV..........and have been for most of the day.
If these activities are so simple, why is it I still never get round to doing them? Do people really spontaneously whilst grinning like a maniac with their gnarly toenails poking out of birkenstocks in winter gather up their spawn and set up treasure hunts and dare I say, go on outdoor escapades all in the name of fun? It's grim outside. Then again it's always grim, this is Lancashire. Collecting Autumnal artifacts could easily turn into a treacherous game of mind the dog shit whilst dodging the fat grey rain that falls like dead bodies.
I do try, honest. I tried painting but never again, i quite like my kitchen units white thank you. I tried baking yet got overly anal and tetchy when The Child deemed it would be a good idea to mix so furiously half the mixture ends up on him, me, The Baby and the kitchen floor (Of Doom). Then there's the craft time, only The Child is a little over zealous with the glitter and my god you'll find glitter, several weeks after the event in places you forgot you even had (however it does add a new sparkle to find the sausage, ahem. Silver lining and all.)
I convince myself that whilst I'm a sloven and slattern-like house wife who is allergic to housework with a deadly addiction to the internet, my children are learning the vital art of entertaining themselves.
Is it really so criminal to have your catchphrase being 'in a minute!, just a tick!' whilst inwardly groaning at the prospect of yet another mindless game of rolling toy cars across the carpet and lining them up at the other end?
They seem happy enough. & oh how they're loved. I think they love me too, sometimes.