Sometimes You Have Days Like This

Yesterday was quite a day. I got up and looked at my calendar and saw that the Health Visitor was due to come around for her final check on me and Dylan. She told me that she would be over at 11am. With that said I got up out of bed and started the getting ready for the day. By 10am I thought I was pretty much on track, just needed to shower but both boys were ready to go. And then the doorbell rang. It was 10:10am and the Health Visitor had arrived.

I know they don't expect you to be perfect and I don't pretend to be, but I at least like to be out of my pjs and have my hair brushed when they come round. So now the dog is going mad, Francis is trying to escape his high chair and Dylan thank goodness is the only one still smiling. 

After a few minutes chatting I let Francis walk around the kitchen as he clearly wasn't happy being in his high chair (after all breakfast had finished ages ago). However getting Francis out of his high chair set off a bizarre chain reaction- the dog went crazy again and Dylan began to scream. So I moved the dog out of the room and picked up Dylan all while chatting with the HV and keeping one eye on Francis who had decided to turn the oven on! 

It was at this time the HV told me off for having Dylan in a bouncy chair on the kitchen table. She said 'He's so big he might just bounce himself off the chair and off the table.' Oh dear! Fail number 1. 

She finally decided to leave and I was pretty happy because I had a feeling things might take a turn for the worse. That is when she asked how long Francis had been walking. 'Only a few weeks' I said (he was a very slow walker). 'Oh well don't worry he'll have lots of bumps and bruises' she says whilst staring at Francis' forehead which is currently sporting a giant yellow bruise from his fall a few days ago. Arrgh! Fail number 2.

At that point Francis decided to climb on top of a box we had in the kitchen (from an Ikea run the day before). I could foresee him falling off it and just as I did there he went. I leapt across the kitchen with Dylan in my arms (dog howling in the other room), grabbed Francis right before the fall (YES! A point for me.) but then I was only holding Dylan with one arm and of course that is when he decided to flail out...Oh Lord! Fail number 3.

I turned around with both boys safely in my arms to see a look of complete horror on the HV's face. 'Well time to go then' she said. 

With the door shut and locked I breathed the biggest sigh of relief ever - hair dishevelled, bathrobe half on, and that was just my morning! 

Has anyone else ever had a morning like this? Super Mom; reality or myth?