Hubby away? Better get a couple
There's no denying the up-side to #1Hubby going away for work.
Less mess - dishes, laundry.
No sharing - bed, TV remote.
Nobody to judge and/or protest if I declare baked beans a suitable vege-filled dinner. Again.
However, there's also a massive down-side : Solo parenting.
That shit is hard, and as I've
I would surely be a raging alcoholic (shut up) and babbling idiot (shut up) within months, if I had to take on The Feral Threesome solo for more than a week or 2.
That's largely because The Feral Threesome are shit hot at math. Specifically ratios.
1 (parent) : 3 (kids)
It's never going to go my way. And so they attack on various fronts.
Fighting : Shit gets physical, yo
All previously brokered peace is shattered.
Sibling warfare breaks out and a state of emergency is declared.
We're talking synchronised slap fighting at regular periods throughout the day.
Followed by make up hugs that turn into head locks.
I freak out if they are within arm's reach of each other.
Structural damage : Nothing is safe
Just when you've got them safely separated as far away from each other as possible, they'll launch simultaneous surprise spot attacks on tangible objects within reach.
Mstr4 will draw on the walls in the toy room (which he's not done since he was a Mstr2).
Miss7 will be drag queening herself up with the entire contents of my make up collection upstairs (opting for my Revlon over her $2 shop collection).
Miss4, who went outside to jump on the trampoline, is actually ripping the heads off all the flowers. Eating those which are deigned edible by whatever scale a 4 year old uses. In the rain.
Illusions : It's all about the smoke and mirrors
#1Hubby calls each night and they are all silence, sweetness and light. Not a swear word out of them.
I look like the whiney (shut up) and overly dramatic (shut up) crazy woman (shut up) who can't cope with three little angels who are all bleating declarations of love to their father over speaker phone, while I shoot them a collective death stare.
As soon as #1Hubby hangs up, the angelic bleating turns to hyped screams.
Miss4 : BULLSHITTTTTT!
Mstr4 : YOU'RE A POOPS FACE POOPS FACE POOPS FACE!
Miss7 : YOU SMELL LIKE BURP!
Combined assault : A team effort
Mstr4 will immediately drop to the floor doing 'the worm' while disrobing - only it's not an impromptu dance off or solo flash mob - it's a full blown tantrum because he didn't get to say goodnight to Daddy last.
Miss4 will dive on top of him (with a sneaky dropped elbow) and start licking him, just to ensure his tantrum escalates, while laughing like a maniac.
Miss7 will start making weird strangled penguin noises purely because she's the only silent one and knows better than to shout swear words.
All in less time than it takes #1Hubby to put the phone away, flick on the TV and peruse the room service menu in his silent hotel haven.
Hunger Protests : I'm starving but I'm not eating that
All three will be eternally starving from the second #1Hubby walks out the door until he returns - but will refuse pretty much everything they've regularly enjoyed until that point.
Even baked beans.
At this stage, they'd probably refuse Macca's just to shit me.
Injuries : WTF is that? How did it happen?
Random unexplained injuries. The kind that only ever happen on my watch.
Last week, Mstr4 woke up with a sizeable scratch on his forehead, which I figured was just a self inflicted sleep wound.
No matter, he wasn't bothered.
TWO DAYS LATER, it took an actual good mother (wassup Erin) to point out that there was a decent bruise accompanying the scratch.
Of course it was still there when #1Hubby got home late on Friday night.
Of course he spotted it in the darkened room when he snuck in to see them (and no doubt check for injuries such as this one).
Of course now Mstr4 is suddenly bothered and is all "owww Daddy, it really really hurts".
Conspiring : External forces join in
A major electrical appliance almost always fails while #1Hubby is away. TV, microwave, coffee machine - something critically essential like that.
Last week it was the car. But I'm saving the horrific details of that one for this week's FFS!? Friday post.
School often joins in on the shit storm by declaring a last minute project of some sort.
And canteen duty. My first shift ever. I nailed it, and that one I'm saving for next week when I'm more gloaty than ranty - so that I may share with you my awesome efforts in true braggy style.
It will also rain, regardless of the time of year or the season.
Like it did last week for the first time in months. Rendering us house bound and car-less. Even Mother Nature can be a Mother-something-else when #1Hubby's away.
And #1Hubby wonders why I don't greet him at the door upon his return home with a three course dinner, clean house and enthusiastic promises of wifely duties.
