Ready to go? Not with a toddler in tow!

Its date night! Yippee!

Dinner is booked. We have our babysitter coming. Can't wait.

Right, now to get ready.

The trick is to allow the exact right amount of time.  

Too little time and I am running around the place in my undies just as there is a knock at the door.  Too much time and I have my dress tucked into my undies so that it won't get snot/yoghurt/other sticky mess on it that little boys, with fingers pointed in the air, present to me "Mumma, yucky".  Either way, there is too much undies.

I am on schedule tonight.  I start the process at 4.30pm.  Have a shower and wash my hair.  Kids are coming in throwing books, cars, lego in the shower and Master 1 is incessantly playing with the toilet brush but hey, this is all normal.

Get the kids their dinner early so if they fuss and carry on, I have enough time not to get cranky about it. 

Ok, dinner went well.  Its now 5.30pm, babysitter is coming at 6.00pm. I am feeling smug at this point.  Got this getting ready thing all wrapped up.

Now I have 30mins to dry my hair and put my makeup on.  Normally this takes me about 15mins so I have double the time to make everything look a bit more special.  All good.

I slink off into the bathroom whilst the boys are playing on the floor.   

Then it all goes pear shaped.

I hear them starting to fight over a toy, I ignore it and start drying my hair. Over the hairdryer I can hear the fighting escalating and resist the temptation to go and referee.  "They are just going to have to work it out themselves" I say to myself.

Then I hear the thud thud thud of angry little feet. Uh oh. 

In they both tumble "Mumma, he took this...", "Mumma, he's not playing nicely..." "Mumma, he won't share...".  Here we go.

A tear streaked face comes between me and the bathroom cabinet "Mumma, up, up, up peeease".  I look down at him and brush in one hand, hairdryer in the other, give him a cuddle.  Oops forgot to turn the hairdryer off and my hair goes flying into the hairdryer, ripping about ten strands out of my head. "Owwwww, shhhiii....vers", I say.

I start to put my makeup on.  Master 1 goes into the bathroom cabinet drawers, gets out my stick of deodarant, pulls the top off and starts licking it. "Nooooooo, yucky" I shout.  

I put one knee against the drawers.

Master 4 starts with questions "How many stories is she going to read me?", "Is she going to give us a bath?" "I am going to tell her how to put the tap on, like this Mumma, look, MUUMMMMMAAA LOOOOOKKKKK" I ask Master 4 to go and choose the books for the sitter to read.

I can do this, I can do this, I'm almost there - I am chanting to myself.

Apparently the cuddle wasn't enough.  A little face comes between me and the bathroom cabinet again. "Mumma, up".  "Sorry bubba, can't pick you up right now, how about you go and find some books too".  "Mumma, up".  He is starting to push me away from the cabinet and the mirror.

By this point, I have one knee against the cabinet drawers and am almost bent in half, straining to see myself in the mirror to get my damn mascara on.  "MUMMMA, MUMMA, MUMMA UUUPPPPP, UUUPPPP, PEEASE, PEEASE, PEEASE".

This is a nightmare.

Giving up, Master 1 walks out of the room.  I feel bad.  Time check, its 5.55pm.  Arrgghhh, I rush through the rest of my makeup, jump into my dress, just as the the sitter knocks at the door.  I manage to pull my dress out of my undies just as I open the door. Phew.

Mr Jones arrives home a few minutes later, "You ready to go?" he asks.

"Yep, all good", I lie.

As I walk out the door, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and realise I have only put mascara on one eye...

I am getting a lock for the bathroom door.

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