It's week three of the holidays or maybe four I've stopped counting. It's frittering away in a gulf of nothingness. I had such idealistic fluffy plans in my head of how the summer was going to be. Long summer nights of family loveliness playing, kids outside laughing and excited. Hot days of fun, frolics and interesting amazing excitement.

Every morning Millie wakes up extremely upset that I dare get out of bed and go to the toilet. She sobs uncontrollably whilst I pee at top speed and spends the next hour having milk and then refusing to sit on the potty whilst she poops. EC has gone. The whole world is Millie's toilet just now. She is refusing all forms of receptacles or offering.

I sort the kitchen out from the bomb dropping the night before, whilst the girls refuse everything I suggest for breakfast and I day dream of foreign humid nights whilst Millie shrieks like a banshee at my feet utterly indignant that I dare to do anything except sit with boobs out on tap.
Should I successfully manage to get out the house with three dressed children, we then spend the next few hours in the woods with the girls whinging they are hungry or want to go to a play park whilst Millie pins me to the forest floor for milk in the woods.

On a plus, I've become a hot shot farmer from playing farm frenzy whilst pinned to the sofa. I've made millions!!!
On that note I'd like to say a MASSIVE thank you to those of you who helped RileyDog find a sitter. We can now go on our family camping holiday. I'm really looking forward to my Cliff Richard type hollibags kicking in!
Meltdowns - late nights make for grumpy kids
Losing the Plot - not much
Breastfeeding - E.V.E.R.Y.W.H.E.R.E