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Rainy Morning Blues





rainymorning blues

ARGHHHH! Rain? In July?

I usually roll my eyes back at those super-mums who always have a plan for any occasion, I imagine these mummies at home with their children when it’s raining, crafting African tribal friendship bands from lentils and organic fair-trade paint whilst their immaculate toddlers sip water and look on in awe of their fabulous mummy. But this morning I think I’d rather be one of them…

On days like today I wonder how the dickens I ever made it through winter. I’ve taken the recent spell of sunny weather for granted, waking up and opening the backdoor so that the kiddies can roam free in the garden and expel all their seemingly abundant reserves of energy has been a joy. But not today, oh no, this morning it’s raining or as little Kitty put it “mummy where’s that nice blue sky gone?”

Here’s my journey through the morning…

6am – I awake to the melody of Kitty singing ‘five little speckled frogs’ in her room and Ozzy banging on my bedroom door with a large metal Thomas the Tank Engine. Pull back the curtains and am faced with the drizzle outside, I think nothing of it and make a b-line for the kettle in order to brew up the essential first coffee of the morning.

8am – The kids seem content, Kitty has a rice krispie stuck on her chin following breakfast and I make a mental decision to leave it on there as it tickles me to see her with the whole Sarah Jessica Parker vibe going on.

9am- Children dressed after much trawling through wardrobes ( in a rare moment last week of perfect housewifesque organisation I packed all of their warmer cold weather clothes away to make way for summer gear). Their energy levels are running at 90% now ,or as I like to call it ‘code orange’ and Kitty starts asking “what are we doing today mummy? Park mummy! Can we, can we pleeeeeeeeeeeeease?” When I explain that we aren’t going to be leaving the house this morning she looks at me as if I have just told her that Iggle Piggle’s dead. This may be trickier than I first thought.

10am – The cherubs energy levels are at 100%,that my friends is a big, fat code red, and they begin to argue and bicker. Ozzy is wielding a die-cast ambulance and Kitty has spent 15 minutes picking her nose, I fear she’ll run out of bogeys soon and so frantically Google ‘things to do with kids on a rainy day’.

10.30am – I sit in despair somewhat disappointed at how half of the ideas for things to do with kids on a rainy day involve us having to go out and buy a glue gun/sequins/a craft knife.

11am – “Come on kids let’s make a den!” – This is my salvation; I cling to this as lifeline to a happier morning. There follows an hour of me rooting about for bed sheets and re-arranging the furniture to accommodate this pinnacle of my great motherly organisation.

Noon – Den complete we all pile in with story books, juice and biscuits. My optimism however is quashed when after 10 measly minutes the little ‘darlings’ leg it out of the den, pull the sheets down and carry on arguing, leaving me with a big pile of crumpled, crumb filled sheets which are now covered in sticky finger prints and will need to be washed.

Reality hits me – it’s raining, I have a pile of dirty sheets and no tumble drier not to mention two manic toddlers still bombing around the house, bouncing off the walls. What did I do? What any self-respecting mother would – opened the fridge and reached for the half bottle of 2 week old cooking wine and had a cheeky swig or two before Googling ‘indoor soft play centres’




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