Tesco Value Cooking Chotolate

Do you ever think, if that person was a can of soup / a dog / pair of shoes, what type / make / breed would they be? Well, it just so happens that I categorise my days like this most days. My days get categorised by chocolate. For instance, the day I got married / gave birth to Cameron / Charlotte are Swiss Finest chocolate days. Worst days are Turkish Delight (brrrr, even typing it brings out a shiver). I have been doing this since Charlotte started having colic, think of it as a coping mechanism.

Days get categorised as we go along, final approval is once the kids are in bed.

Today started as a Revel kind of day (Russian roulette day in other words! – don’t get the coffee flavoured one). It quickly morphed into a dark chocolate day when I realised Cameron had woken up on completely the wrong side of bed.

By the time you read the end of this, you should know two things 1) that I truly deserve a medal for keeping calm and being able to smile 2) that its all true

I was changing Charlottes nappy, when Cameron decided he would help. I like to think of each nappy as Schrodingers cat. This time, the contents of the nappy were “challenging”. As I was using the wipes, I heard Cameron (who was to my right) wretch. He then started throwing up, 90% on my arm the other 10% on the sofa covers I had just put back, after washing out last weeks vomit attack. In order to try and keep him calm, I kept saying, its ok, its ok. With one hand I was stroking his back whilst he continued to throw up, with the other I was holding Charlottes legs down, so she did spread contents of her nappy everywhere. I then had to stop myself from throwing up due to the stench of both my kids combined efforts. Clearup operation took nigh on an hour. Afterwards, go upstairs, hubby looks at me and asks me what the smell is. Decide to show him the vomit, which is now dried onto my arm. He says he is glad he has his study to hide away from the kids. Alas, I am sad to report that it did not make for a good moisturising pack.

The rest of the day passes in a whirl of tantrums, smiling through gritted teeth.