It’s Not About the Coffee

I am a bit burnt out at the moment.  “Mumma’s running on empty,” I tried to explain to the boys today.  Life continues to spin me in its craziness.

So I had a brilliant idea.  A cup of coffee on the front verandah and the opportunity to catch up on a few text messages that I needed to send.  But how to do it?


Well, let’s gather the ingredients.  Some mini-sized paint rollers and trays, some paints and a roll of craft paper.  Total cost about $18- (they pretty much used all the paper).

Roll out the paper down the driveway, place rocks on to keep it from blowing away.  Apply children.

Easy, huh?  Nice and peaceful…  boil the kettle…

Baby cries.  “No, I am not having a rest”, it roughly translates.  “I don’t care how tired I am, no sleep for me!”  Put baby in rocker on front verandah.

Make instant coffee.  Commence leaving the kitchen and head towards front door.  Jump to miss small child running through wielding paint soaked roller.

Growl that painting is for outside.  Clean up floor.  Carry half cup of coffee out to table.  Bend knees to sit .

Something about yellow paint.  Can’t really hear because baby is screaming like a banshee.  I try the smile and nod.  Doesn’t work.  I need to walk over and discuss the beauty of the paint on the paper.  In detail.


Finally sit down to coffee.  Baby still screaming.  Grab a sip of coffee, try to be soothing (in vain), second sip.  Tap out part of a message- what NO pink paint left???  NONE???  Yes it does look very pretty on the paper.  Can you use another colour for a little bit?  No?  Not even if you paint another bit.  Okay, okay, bring me the tray.

Back inside to the bathroom.  Mix pink paint.  Yellow tray slips in beside me.  Mix yellow paint.  Kids carry paint trays through house and outside (NNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooo…. darn.)  Clean up paint drips.

Return to verandah, half a cup of rapidly cooling instant coffee, screaming child and phone.  Try to remember what the message was about.  Rock baby.  Baby’s cry turns indignant.  Pick up cup, but doesn’t make it to my lips.

Ah, yes, well if you take all the rocks off the paper, if WILL blow around in the breeze.  That’s why Mummy put the rocks there.  Yes, yes, I will help you set it up again.


Return to verandah.  Screaming baby pulls face at me.  I growl back.  Wonder to what depths I will end up descending.  Sit down.  Sip.  Pick up baby and snuggle her.  Pick up phone.  Yes, okay, I will get you a biscuit, but not while you are still painting.  Do you want to paint or do you want to wash your hands.  Okay, go and paint some more.  No, no biscuit while you are painting.  Okay, go paint.  No, I am not bringing a biscuit to you.  No!  Paint or biscuit.  No, paint OR biscuit.  Which one?  Okay, paint now, biscuit later.

Baby snarls at me.  I snarl back, “If you are tired, go to sleep.  And yes you will stay hungry if you won’t eat.”  Chug a bit of cold coffee.  Refill paint trays, again.  Change nappy.

What do you mean you need more paint????  I was only two minutes!!!!

Rearrange paper.  Roll up dried painting.  Move wet painting onto the grass bindiis to dry.  Inwardly say not very nice things about DH who doesn’t see the urgency in spraying the weeds in the grass.  Roll remaining paper down drive.


Return to verandah.  Baby has been playing happily with brothers, but on seeing me approach begins to scream.  Noice.

Oh, I see.  You need more paint.  Well of course you do.  Take empty trays to bathroom, where I discover the mirror has been painted blue.  Scream.  Inwardly very, VERY pleased that the paint is only on the mirror.  Especially as the bathroom was painted by professionals only yesterday.

Take out paint.  Clean mirror.  Yes, I know, biscuits.  Wash small child.  Take biscuit tin out to verandah (after much discussion).  Baby scowls.  Hand out biscuits in hope of producing goodwill.  Boys gorge on biscuits before returning to paint.  I swallow remainder of cold, unpleasant coffee.  Quickly finish txt messages.  Baby slumped asleep in rocker with biscuit in hand.

Try to transfer baby to cot.  Twice.  Settle her in our bed.

Put on Dora DVD.  Put boys clothes in washing machine.

Well that was nice.  I got a cuppa today!



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