Saturday/ Sunday

Weekend Mode: Surviving Saturday & Sunday

This weekend, I had every intention of being Fun Mom — you know, the mom who whisks her kids out for adventures, makes memories, all that good stuff. But after the working week I’ve had, I decided to stay firmly in my rot. Not literally, because I’ve got a million and one things to do at home, but emotionally? Oh, I’ve been face down in that rot, thank you very much.

Still, we managed a fairly chilled couple of days. All the uniforms are washed and ironed (if they get creased again before Monday morning, I might actually lose the will to live). We squeezed in a movie night with snacks, which sounds wholesome until you realise that the floor now resembles the inside of a cinema bin.

The eldest two boys went off to their dad’s early on Saturday, which left me with the three younger ones. My brother popped round and took my 7-year-old out to buy protein powder and a shaker — and now the kid thinks he’s Johnny Concrete. Honestly, I’ve never seen a child so small flex so hard. If he starts asking me to spot him while he bench-presses his Lego, I’m moving out.

My daughter, meanwhile, spent the day crafting and modelling clay. She’s currently reconstructing the entire cast of Poppy Playtime like some kind of arts-and-crafts necromancer, and to be fair, she’s doing a cracking job. Only downside? The clay has to be baked in the oven to cure. Which means my kitchen smells faintly of Play-Doh and despair.

And then there’s the youngest. The tiny tornado. The human demolition derby. He spent the weekend tearing around the house like a man possessed, screaming, breaking, and generally reminding me why wine was invented. Curtain pole? Ripped off the wall. Large plant pot? Smashed to bits. And then, his pièce de résistance — emptying a beanbag down the stairs, creating what I can only describe as a polystyrene ball apocalypse. If you’ve ever tried vacuuming polystyrene balls, you’ll know it’s like trying to trap clouds in a jar. Impossible. They’re now part of my home décor. Forever.

This kid is my undoing. He makes my brain hurt in ways I didn’t know were possible. But here’s the kicker: he’s also the most loving child on earth. He’s forever demanding cuddles and kisses, like a tiny dictator of affection. He is both my heart and my headache. The only person who can make me want to curl up in a corner and rock until it’s all over, while simultaneously being the one I’d do absolutely anything for.

So, that’s the weekend. Chilled, chaotic, and coated in polystyrene. I didn’t make it out to be Fun Mom, but honestly, sometimes survival is the memory.

Now excuse me while I sweep up these little white balls of doom for the fiftieth time and rethink all my life choices.

FiveKidsOneMom