parenting inspection.

this morning I have a home visit from Faces home school liaison.

its about dentistry and other tediously boring things.

so why on all of these visits, do I run around like someone’s lit my arse on fire, because my minds telling me that they will judge my parenting abilities on how clean my skirting boards are?

I swear this cant just be me, I can be the only one who over reacts on home visit day.

its like someone’s just flicked a switch in me that says these fuckers are here to judge me on every aspect of my life. Faces room has never been as clean as it is now, and I guarantee you they wont leave the lounge! but best to clean the upstairs light switches just in case right?

what are the chances they’ll look in my kitchen cupboards?

best alphabetize the soup.

Nazis, there home school liaison Nazis, must conform to every little detail my mind thinks of.

must turn the television onto the news channel and ignore the fact the cartoon network is usually on all day in our house.

put healthy snacks on the sideboard, hope they don’t see the disgusted look frys giving them.

speaking of fry, he needs a bath, is that a scratch on his face? oh god they’ll think I abuse him.

do I offer coffee? its rude not too, but then if I do I risk leaving them alone in my house where they could discover the dead body under the floorboards….

make myself a tea, relax, all the housework’s done, the kids are fine, everything’s going to be ok. its just a visit from people wanting some paperwork filled out.

just going to lock my sex dungeon…just incase..

shh now children, mommy needs her pills.

Typical Day In My House:

 

Downstairs TV is on loud, children’s TV

Fry is jumping and doing his screeching “a-gulr-blurg-grr-blub” noise

Toes is asking a milling questions while stepping on cats singing

the washing machine is on its 100th spin cycle

upstairs Face is jumping

hitting

banging

screaming

singing

throwing things

with his xbox on loud

youtube blasting from the computer, and somebody gave him a microphone.

im still listening to the kings of leon while on hold to the council for the 10th time today.

everyone wants feeding (its 9:15, they had breakfast not 2 hours ago, but ney whens it time for lunch)

Toes wants to do gluing/painting/drawing/writing/watching a film/playing the ds all with me obviously it would be a crime to play alone.

but I cant, because the baby needs feeding AGAIN, which bright spark thought children was a good idea?

I attempt to watch home and away, to no prevail, even with subtitles, because face has eaten his radiator cover and im making sure its nothing too dangerous to be ingested.

its time to clean again, no Toes that doesn’t mean im free to play guess who.

the washings finished, its sunny, time to put it out to dry

its quiet outside,

no kids

no questions

no screaming

no babies

but if that bird doesn’t stop fucking tweeting, I will shoot it.

 

 

END.