Ahh, Monday. The first Monday of 2016, the first day back to normality apparently. Sure it would be just as crap as any other Monday? Monday’s a Monday after all and they don’t get any easier regardless of their place in the calendar unless it’s a bank holiday and you’re off work and in that case bring it on!!
What is this whole back to normality thing anyway? Is it one of the myths like the 9-5 job with have all weekend off? And bank holidays, Easter, Christmas etc, etc Pah! Not jealous at all. I love retail and working every hour of every day to satisfy those who need to shop, I mean who wants to spend time with their family when I can be at work (please read dripping in sarcasm because that is totally how it was written)
Anywhoo back on topic, first Monday of the year, yadda, yadda, yadda. Well for me it was the first day back at school for Olivia and the day to finally sort myself out with regards to the whole job switching thing and stuff. Now usually I am a hot blubbering mess come the first day back at school/Monday mornings/most every school morning but this year, oh, it was going to be so totally different. Totally. There I was Sunday night. The girl fed, showered, uniform ironed!!!!!!! and even my own clothes lying draped on the ironing board. Smashing it already I was and feeling well smug.
I packed her off to bed and shuffled into bed myself. Finished a few blog posts, done a few comps, watched the final instalment of the Twilight Saga on E4, don’t judge me, and settled in for the night having set 3, yes 3, alarms on my phone. But one might not work mightn’t it and I’ll need a backup.
Monday morning, you beast.
It kept me pinned to my bed forcing my eyelids shut like it was scared for me to see it and single-handedly disabled all 3 bloody alarms wt………. Arising from my slumber at 7:45 am I dived straight out of bed and smack bang into the wall. Staggering out of my room I headed to the loo shouting Olivia awake as I tried to navigate the shoes some idiot left on the landing (that’ll be ‘lil miss smug from Sunday night) whilst not so quietly cursing that idiot.
I flicked her bedroom light on only for it to magically switch itself off again whilst I was trying morph from something resembling a zombie off the Walking Dead to something more human. Big fail I totally needed more than 10 minutes especially after catching a glimpse of the hair, trust me it wasn’t pretty and decided that brushing my teeth was as good as it was going to get with having to tackle the ‘do.
‘Olivia love seriously you need to get up like half an hour ago’
Flicked light back on again. ‘Muuuum, can I have your phone’ ‘no’ ‘why did you wake me up I was in the middle of a dream and I need to finish it’ Oh for the love of God, give me strength. ‘GET,OUT,OF.BED.NOW’
Coffee, someone get me the coffee I beg you. With the mane somewhat tamed and me half dressed, still slightly zombiefied, I went to find the holy grail of happiness, aka my Tassimo machine, and promptly set myself up with one, ok two cups of liquid happiness.
Boom, boom, boom. Who comes down the stairs when you can come through them! The girl had finally made it out of bed and was miraculously dressed and downstairs and giving me the major stink eye. She received a delightful pre-coffee scowl in return, cheeky mare.
Both dressed and with a whole 20 minutes left to have breakfast each, do her hair, mine was too far past rescuing, teeth brushing, her again and coats on.
Totally doable. Then she realised we had no bread. No bread people, someone please call social services for this poor, hard done to precious darling. Seriously, oh the tears, life was over, cancel Monday she was going back to bed. Despite the coffee, the scowl remained and was now accompanied by an eye roll. The fact that I had Cookie Crisp cereal in was completely irrelevant at this point. 10 minutes wasted and to top it off she wanted her hair in a scouse bun with a plait in the middle like a ponytail?!?!?! Is she actually serious right now! All up in a ponytail it is. More tears. But at least she had eaten her breakfast despite me trying to ruin it by giving her a drink. How very dare I!
5 minutes to go and she had managed to find the bathroom again, although whether toothpaste actually found the toothbrush is a bit of a grey area. ‘Are you calling me a liar’ Oh no I am totally not even going there on this one. So whilst redoing the hair because it had the smallest ever lump in it and it would totally ruin her life, ‘do you know how hard it is to be me’ she wailed dramatically, I smiled serenely and vowed to eat ALL her Barney Bears whilst she was at school. That’ll teach her.
8:44am front door open, coats on and ready to go and she muttered ‘mum I think I need a PE kit today……………………….’
*Disclaimer: no Olivia’s were permanently scarred by these traumatic events nor where any Barney Bears hurt in revenge. However, tomorrow is another day*