- a half drunk bottle of Evie's milk;
- four little shoes;
- a remote control:
- an empty packet of baby wipes;
- a book about frogs, a blanket;
- a single sock;
- a colourful caterpillar;
- a babywalker with its seat inside out;
- a duvet;
- a 'Sophie the Giraffe' rattle.
And this is how I look:
- messy hair, from having been attacked by twins;
- a fleece top that has seen better days;
- a vest, through which you can see my leopard print bra (grrrr);
- jeans (of course)
- stinky trainers;
- surprisingly attractive facial expression...
What I'm trying to say is that once again, it's Perfectionism 0, Chaos 4. Tomorrow, we have a rematch. One day, I will get there.
I always know I've failed when I put the kids to bed then realise I've forgotten to clean their teeth, or when I realise we're only 'just' going to have enough milk to get through the night (here in France shops close at 7.30pm and THAT'S IT 'til 9 tomorrow, so midnight dashes to Asda an impossibility).
Of course, as usual, I'm setting myself up to fail. And yet I'm always convinced that what I want to do is achievable. And it is... providing the kids sleep, I sleep, and, of course, there are 26 hours in the day... DOH!
Mind you, when I read that the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge have missed their little boy's first steps whilst holidaying in the Maldives, I can't help think - well, I might be exhausted, I might not have "staff" (oh! to have staff!), I might be about as far from having a holiday in the Maldives as it's possible to get, but at least I know that I won't miss any important moments. Even if I'm as white as a sheet and probably completely depleted of Vitamin D, and definitely have a severe cocktail deficiency...
Anyway, enough moaning - let's move on to the important stuff. It's the twins' birthday today. My little boys are two years old! I'm still not 100% sure they knew what was happening to them most of the day, but hey we tried.
In fact, I've made two birthday cakes over the last 48 hours. The first, a chocolate fudge cake covered in Smarties to take to crèche (have to educate them about 'proper' cake). This cake I was proud of. This cake got a big thumbs up from the crèche staff.
The second... the 'actual' birthday cake well it was delicious, but it wasn't my finest in terms of its... ahem presentation.
I whipped up lovely vanilla cake, filled it with butter icing and strawberry jam - so far so good! But then realised I couldn't get hold of fondant icing (it's not the thing here in France, so is only really available in specialist shops). Undeterred, I made some water-icing, and slapped it on. Unfortunately, it was a bit thin and ran down the sides and across the plate, leaving a thick, white but slightly see-through covering on my slightly uneven cake. In short, it looked as if a giant albino cow had pooed on the plate.
But I stuck a candle in it and thanked the powers that be that the boys know nothing about cake presentation. In fact, my vanilla filled snowdrift got a 'wow.'
In fact, despite having colds, a cowpat cake and a mum that looked like she'd been dragged through a hedge backwards, my little boys were happy. So perhaps, rather than sit there in the evenings thinking about the things I haven't achieved, I should just ask the kids what they think.
As long as it's a wow from them, that's good enough for me!