Sunday

I wake to the sound of Miss Three's camper van playing toy some song about mosquitoes. I look at my phone - 

4:39am

Her lamp is on and she is ready to start the day. I am not calm. I hurry over to the toy and try to turn the sound off but it gets stuck on some horrible sounds that tells me the battery needs replacing. I shove it under her bed and close her door, carrying her into bed with me. 

She wriggles around and kisses my face and I tell her it is time to go to sleep. 

7:00am 

The boys door opens and they thunder down the hallway whispering "our watch says 7 o'clock and we didn't call out so we can have Netflix!" Their 'whispering' wakes Miss Three so she races to catch up to her brothers who have no doubt already decided on what they are watching.

8:00am

'Mum!!! We're hungry!!' I'm still in bed, dozing on and off trying to talk myself into getting up. I can hear the rain spilling out of our gutters and I know it's going to be a cold day - I really don't want to get out of bed.

I hear my children discussing what they want for breakfast and Miss Three states 'I'll just make my own breakfast' - I clamber out of bed, slippers on, jumper on, get to the kitchen just in time to see the full 3L bottle of milk being poured all over the kitchen bench, trickling down onto the floor.

(I feel the need to mention here that The Husband was on night shift and not yet home.)

The rest of the day followed suit with the boys arguing over which game to play and shouting at their sister for coming into their room. It is typical behaviour lately and I am getting worn down by it.

I recall my own parents desperate pleas for my siblings and I to 'please just get along and be kind to one another' - something I am saying on repeat these days.