During half term the grandparents had our kids so we could get on with some DIY - of course as below we were both ill so only completed about 75% of what we wanted to do. And had a huge row, so that was nice.
It turns out that the children were pretty vile towards my parents last week. OH WELL DONE. Every time I actually get a compliment about them, my heart skips with joy because I think, oh, I've done alright by them. Once, my father actually said they were great at saying Please and Thank You. Imagine! I nearly died of delight.
Mid week I was on the phone to my mother, who had written No 2 off as a "little beast", trying to explain calmly that my daughter was most probably being a cow because the only stability she's had in her life since she was plucked out of her beloved nursery and plonked in The Shire is me, her mother, all day everyday for six weeks (save the odd hour in the creche at the leisure centre) and now even that's gone. Not an excuse, she should still be doing as she's told (No2, not my mother......) but an explanation.
Anyway, they were mighty pleased to hand them back. However, the children are still being Little Shits. I am invisible to them, until I actually act out my threats. Example: went to local supermarket yesterday, having had a lovely day with No 2. In the car, I explained that we were going to get THEM some things - for tea, for wearing, for washing with. I explained that I wanted them to stay with me and so on. Anyway, the long and the short of it is that No 1 went in to absolute meltdown when I started putting things back on the shelves, having lost No 2, asked him to stand still whilst I found her and then came back to find him dong something I had asked him repeatedly not to do. Kicking, screaming like a stabbed rat, pulling on my back (neck still a bit sore, thanks mate) and then, whilst I was being calm calm serene goddess, pulled the belt detail on the back of my coat so hard, after repeatedly asking him not to because he would break it, the piece of material came away leaving two gaping holes in my raincoat.
At this point, No 2 was being an angel, having totally forgotten her misdemeanours of running off, picking up things from the shelves (I found her with An Egg?!?!),, so I gladly handed her to a lovely young woman who was offering to help, hauled the Stabbed Rat off the floor and carried him to the car, where upon he proceeded to slam the car door several times before getting in and wailed all the way home.
Oh, and the day before, I'd been out in the garden getting some washing ou before school (because my neighbour had had a bonfire ALL DAY the day before so I thought I'd stake my claim first this time) and horrible No 2 played with the patio doors and locked me and No 1 in the garden. We had to borrow a ladder off absent next door neighbours, climb on to the flat roof to a spare room window, which I knew wasn't locked shut, then persuade No 2 to come upstairs and open the window, where upon No 1 jumped in and went downstairs, unlocking the doors. Only 40 minutes late for school. But again, absolutely no understanding that she might have done something wrong. In fact the creche ladies at the gym were telling me that she'd been retelling the tale to them - and of course it was hilarious because she was in Angel mode.....
I have told school the truth though. No 1's been late twice, and instead of just writing "late" when I've been signing him in, I've written "scooter-related tantrum" (full on Stabbed Rat when I couldn't open his bent scooter properly so he couldn't ride it to school) and "locked out by 3 year old". They'll thank me for my honesty.
Oh and re the row - TMM has admitted that perhaps dumping me in an area I don't know at all and telling me to get on with it was rather unfair and indeed, yes, he should have been more supportive. Well done. Muppet.