“You were put on this earth to achieve your greatest self, to live out your purpose, and to do it courageously.”
Miss 15’s boyfriend recently came to visit, and I was due to drop him home by 8 pm at the latest. The plan was to put the younger three to bed (hubby was already in bed, as he had an early start next morning), then drive him home so I didn’t have to drag all of them out in the cold.
It all started so well, the kids were all in bed, and I was just telling my two boys to go to sleep for about the third time when I suddenly heard a scream. And it wasn’t your average “he hit me, so I’m going to get him in trouble” scream, this was more of the blood-curdling, “I just dropped a large boulder on my toe and possibly broken a limb” sort of scream. When queried as to the cause of this scream, Master 6 immediately yelled out that Master 4 had been trying to climb onto his bed to play. This sent up red flags because he only starts blaming 4 without explanation when he has done something quite wrong.
As I was walking toward the boys’ bedroom – not far, but enough for me to enquire further as to the goings on – and the 4-year-old pipes up that he’s bleeding. I’ll admit, I panicked slightly and may have trotted those last few steps at an ungainly jog. Turning on the boys’ bedroom light, I discovered 4, standing next to my 6’s bed, both of them crying, and 4 clutching at his face. The long and short of it was that 4 had tried to climb onto 6’s bed to play – so 6 didn’t explicitly lie, not sure whether to claim that parenting win or not – however, 6 had promptly punched him in rather smartly in the snout and 4 – who is somewhat prone to nosebleeds – had sprung a leak.. All. Over. Their. Bedroom. Carpet.
I’m forever Googling the solution to problems I face in life – recipes, kids activities, life hacks – so much so, that my favourite mug has the words “Keep Calm and Google It” written on the side. So, naturally, I Googled how to get blood out of a carpet. It was quite simple and very effective, but the whole process took a while and The Boyfriend was late home.
I also realised – while I was explaining the night’s events to The Boyfriend’s father – that I am probably on several government watch lists, thanks to my search history. And since it never really gets deleted, they’ll probably think I’m some sort of dodgy character for many more years to come. Although I guess, they probably also know that I’m a mum from my online presence as well and, if they have kids themselves, they probably have a similarly questionable search history and dodgy looking digital thumbprint!