1999: Friday 13th with 3 tired screaming kids and two ratty mothers. We were up at 6.45 but the biguns, who had slept downstairs, wouldn’t let us down until half eight! And this was only when Dessica and I had had enough of trashing the bedroom and decided to have a crying and screaming competition for our respective mothers, whilst trying to see who could cry and scream the loudest and hardest. We went out late morning. Where to? B & Q! As if mum isn’t bad enough, does Aunty Eesa really have to drag her out again? And all that for …………….. One paint brush?! We stopped at a pub on the way home that had ‘inflatable fun’. I loved the big, bouncy slide but I couldn’t quite understand the other children. They must be very boring. Who wants to stand around in lines when you could be whizzing down a slide? It started to rain and we were bundled back into the camper van quite hastily. Why? Because now they want to go to Macro! I give up. Aunty Eesa bought a blind and that was the extent of the trip. Mum was either being very restrained or very broke. The girls stayed for tea (pasta again!) followed by rice pudding. Talk about carb overload. Anyone would think they wanted us to sleep or something!
2019: Another day in but am starting to get out more on social media and shared this from My Inner Momologue:
I grew up watching mom handle any and every obstacle life put in her way. She went through shit which I’m sure kept her up crying at night but she still got up every morning and did an amazing job raisin us. I could never be weak. I learnt from the best.
I now understand why it was so difficult to get her up of a morning!
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