Half term morning 

I don’t know who had the fantastic idea to put the half term break just in time for Halloween, when the children are over excited and ready to overdose on sugar…great timing really. Especially when it rains non stop and I cannot even throw them out in the garden encourage them gently to play outside. Anyway, I don’t know why I complain…holidays mornings are always ethic here.

They start early, very early, because Marichéri pretends he has to get up practically in the middle of the night, to go to work (I mean, 5 am, that not even a proper time…it shouldn’t exist!). He leaves the house just in time for Toddler 5 to start screaming like an electrocuted  banshee because he wants Dadddyyyyy. When we have to take the other kids to school I have to wake him up, but, of course, during half term, he refuses to sleep in the morning. But I am stubborn (or so I have been told). So I take Toddler 5 back to bed, with me, in the false hope that we could snooze a little before properly waking up. He thinks it’s a great idea. After a few games, some trampolining directly on my stomach, poking me repeatedly in the right eye, to make sure that I don’t wear my glasses, Toddler 5 miraculously falls back to sleep. O joy! Exactly when  one of the cats decides to yoddle loudly, a bit like a flamenco singer who would have stuck his fingers in his guitar, in front of my bedroom door. She needs to go out, to be feed, to be petted…whatever it is, it’s urgent. I don’t care, go and see L’Ado. If she doesn’t stop screaming like that and wakes Toddler 5 up, I’m going to teach her how to fly…

It’s now the girls’turn to take the stage…they start by arguing in front of the bathroom door to decide who should go to the toilet first. Shut up,  one goes here and the other downstairs! But they have waken up GeekAdo who decides to join in:

-shut up, girls, I want to sleep! 

-ahaha, you’re “nul”…. Mamaaaaaan, GeekAdo is speaking in English! (During the holiday, I try to encourage them to speak French) 

-would you all shut up, I don’t care if you speak English, French or Cantonese, just go back to bed, all of you! 

They all go back to their bedroom, sulking. The cat had loved the animation and she is sill lingering on the landing waiting for someone to play with. Waiting vocally I mean. Why didn’t L’Ado put her out in the garden? She is still hungry and she absolutely needs me to stay with her while she is eating. The smell of cat food in the morning, it’s fantastic, I am not sick at all. I am determined to go back to bed, I push the cat outside, it’s for her own good, after all she has eaten, she needs some exercice surely. Upstairs, the girls have made up and to celebrate this new (and volatile) truce, they have set up a barbie camping  site in front of my bedroom. I never knew a Barbie was so loud. For a plastic figurine, it’s quite something. Of course, Toddler 5 is up. He forces me to put on my glasses. And resolutely asks to go upstairs.

-we are upstairs, you want to go down stairs

-up, up, up, mamaaaaaan!

Because I still feels he’s my little baby, I try to give him a cuddle (up, up, up!) and carry him to go downstairs.  So I walk straight into the barbie camp, plant my little toe firmly on a very pointy barbie’s hand,  slip onto some sort of pink vehicle and go valsing straight into  the wall, while trying simultaneously not to swear and protect Toddler  5, still in my arms, who finds the whole thing hilarious:

-again, again! 

-would you put your stupid toys away! 

-but mamaaaaaaan, you have broken the Charlotte! 

-what? Who is this Charlotte? Have you invited some friends without telling me again? 

-noooooo! Barbie’s Charlotte!

-get that horrible pink carriage out of my sight!

GeekAdo arrives, all dignified: please maman,  I am trying to sleep here. 

I am worried my little toe needs to be amputated, and my children have no mercy! I need a coffee, OK, everybody downstairs (up, up, up, mamaaaaan!), it’s breakfast time. Probably. The girls rush to hide barbie ‘s carriage in the ensuite shower, probably to surprise me nicely  latter,  and they are already in the kitchen,  fighting again over the pink cereal bowl. The cat is back in, I don’t know how. Toddler 5 starts redecorating the kitchen. He is drawing Daddy. On the fridge. With jam. GeekAdo is up too complaining that it is impossible to sleep in this mad house, while we can distintinly hear L’Ado snoring like a plane engine. My little toe has triple in size. I need a coffee, now.

-Maman, can you unplug the coffee machine, please, I have to recharge my iPad.

-mamaaaaan, the cat has jumped into the pink bowl, I want the purple one! Purple, purple, purple!

-mamaaaan, Toddler 5 had put jam on my Frozen pyjamas, I’m going to diiiiie! 

And now, my phone rings. It’s Marichéri,  who wants to know if the lazy holidaymakers are up. 

  
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2 Responses to Half term morning 

  1. I remembered it; as fun in French as in English. Good luck for your nights, rests, naps 😉

    Liked by 1 person

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