How hard can it be to make a cup of tea?
I used to be a pro and I had a stylish routine. I would respond to my inner call for caffeine quickly by heading to the kettle, removing it from its perch, filling it with the appropriate amount of water to avoid the nasty limescale bits at bottom, return to perch, turn on, reach for a cup, add PG Tips tea bag, click the sweetener in, remove semi-skimmed milk from fridge and unscrew lid in anticipation. Whilst waiting for kettle to bubble its way to boiling I would leaf through a magazine or just gaze idly at the world outside my window. When the kettle had heated the water to scalding hot I would remove from perch once more, pour into cup, stir gently, add milk, stir some more, remove PG Tips Tea Bag and place it in the bin. Then my perfect cup of tea and I would retreat to sofa with the biscuit barrel and enjoy some quiet time with a book and a bourbon biscuit.
See, tea making down to a fine art.
So why I ask you can something I once did so well become a near impossible task suddenly?
Suddenly now I have six small legs around me at all times the art of making tea has disappeared and instead this happens….
I feel the call for caffeine arise within me, I suppress the urge for caffeine for a couple of hours whilst I ‘get straight’. Fast forward a few hours later and I am parched and nowhere near “straight” but my energy levels are dropping so I head for kettle stumbling on a duplo brick en route and cracking my knee on the door frame. After five minutes of hopping and swearing I get back on course, as I get within arms reach of the kettle a small thing arrives at my hip and requests a drink. I detour to the sink and pour water in a beaker and empty the kitchen drawer trying to find a lid. I fail in this quest and pass the small thing the drink with a warning to be careful. I return to my original mission and walk the two steps to the kettle and flick it on.
Cries are heard in the other room and I turn to go gather up a baby, I return babe in arms to hear the kettle spluttering in anger through lack of water. I turn kettle off and remove from perch scalding arm in process on the dry steam emerging from the spout. I transfer baby to hip and fill kettle with water not really caring if I get enough in to avoid the limescale yukky bits.
I turn the kettle on as I hear twin girl summoning me to deal with a spilt water incident. Once that is cleaned up I rush upstairs to deal with twin boy who is bent over in the bathroom arse in air with a congealed brown mess attached to it demanding I wipe him clean. Not one to shy away from frightful faeces I then decide to change BB’s overdue nappy to try to shift the smell of poop from the house.
My caffeine levels poke me a reminder and I return to kitchen, grab a chipped cup emblazoned ironically with the words ” Worlds Greatest Mum” and sling in an Aldi’s own brand T bag and chuck in several full fat sugars. I turn to the kettle to find it full of cooled boiled water and grunt in frustration then whack it on again.
Several barks from rabid hound reminds me she hasn’t yet been out so I grab her lead to take her to the garden for toilet time. She gets over excited by sight of lead and races around house barking in excitement and knocks a vase over in the process, the loud smash causes BB to wail and twin boy to start shouting in a foghorn style voice;
“Naughty dog, stupid mutt!”
I mentally reprimand myself for saying “stupid mutt” out loud and mentally praise myself for not saying “fecking arsing dog” out loud.
I throw dog out in garden praying she won’t run off, grab BB and jig her around whilst singing ‘row row the boat’ in a slightly manic tone, run to kitchen to gather paper towels and hear the kettle scream that it has reached boiling point and hence I manage to twist my body with baby on hip, paper towels in my move to free my other hand and I reach, lift the kettle, and pour water into chipped cup.
I return to the broken vase whilst bellowing at the twins to ‘leave the glass alone, it’s not a flipping jigsaw’. I pop BB out of harms way, again thanking the big man upstairs that she isn’t yet crawling, and I give her chocolate to placate the tears whilst thinking for the billionth time that I will never be Tesco’s Mother of the Year. I collect up glass, cut finger, and mop up blood and water. I return to kitchen sucking on finger, find a Spiderman plaster and apply. I then yell at Twin Boy who is angrily protesting at me in raised tones that the Spiderman plasters are his. I then get slapped in the face by guilt and spend five minutes apologising to twin boy for not asking to borrow his Spiderman plaster.
My caffeine levels hit an all time low and I spot the cooling black sugary tea on the side, I seize the moment, grab the full fat milk left out from breakfast, pour in too much in my excitement but don’t really care. I hear twin girl calling for me in the background and BB crying my name. I bring the cup to my lips, I take a noisy deep slurp and then reach in to remove the Aldi own brand T bag which was tickling my lips and I abandon it on the side. I then take several heavenly quick sips and regretfully tip the rest down the sink less it get knocked over and with caffeine levels restored I head back out to the chaos to be greeted by Twin boy saying;
“Mummy the fecking arsing dog has run off again.”
Never even considered having a bourbon biscuit…..
**By the way my little blog has been shortlisted in the MAD blog Awards; I am really flattered, if you want to help me win please click on this voting link and enter your name and email and my blog has been shortlisted in Best Mad Blog about Family life (the first one); just click ‘northern mum’ – Thanks from me, twin boy, twin girl, BB, and he who helped create them x x x
Reading this has made my morning. Sorry. Hilarious!!
I bet you read it with a cup of tea….
I read it with tea that has been microwaved twice! Yum.
I love twin boys phrase about the dog. Brilliant!!!
Nice. Love a bit of misery sharing…..
You had me laughing there, it was only when I went to type out this reply I realised I had been sat there reading this with a hot cup of tea in my hand.
Felt a little bit guilty and if I lived closer I would pop in and make you a cuppa and look after your crew for 10 minutes so you could enjoy your cup of tea.
I do remember those days and sometimes even miss them 🙂 x
Well done on MAD awards you were on my list of great blogs I have discovered in my first two months of blogging.
How far away are you? is it doable in a taxi?
North Cornwall, but hey for a hot and peaceful cup of tea !!!! 😉
hmmm, wanna split the cab?
You have perfectly described my own attempts at tea making. I can’t remember the days I could make a cup of tea without a baby hanging off my boob at the same time. Multi-tasking to the extreme.
Wait till you have more…..
Haha!! Ive gotten used to drinking cold tea now, it’s crap!! I wonder what dinner time is like?
I just cant blog about that it is too traumatic – is it better in your house?
Just brilliant absolutely hilarious xx
ta Kerry
sooooo funny, i have 4yr old twins and a 2 and half yr old, so six little legs round me, made me laugh as i was just making a cuppa for me and toast for them all…………….. a simple task however with 3 tots making their demands of how they like their butter speading is turns in to a fiasco xxx love your blog, and will be voting for you xxx comrade xx
Thanks Lucy x
That is why I will be thankful I’m not a tea person in the years to come. Glass of diet coke much easier!
wise! you planned that didnt you….
a fabulously funny post……and thanks for the reminder that I have a full cup of tepid tea sitting on the side.
oh & I’ve voted for you too because you have a great blog
x
thanks lovely x
love it, good job im not a tea drinker!
I couldn’t live without my tea.. even the lukewarm stewed type….
And I thought I had it bad.. You’ve just revitalised me for the next shift. Thanks!
You can always make yourself feel better popping over here…..
Woohoo 🙂 Feeling lucky and relaxed after reading this *slurps coffee in peace*
*looks at cold tea with jealous face*
great post! although mine are abit older now, I do sometimes, although very occasionally get to make and drink a hot cup of tea… but more often I find over stewed tea bags or cold cups left undrunk :o/ ah well xx
I miss hot tea so much
I returned to work simply because I was too dehydrated not to…
Your life sounds just like mine – so glad its not just me!! Your children look about the same age difference too although I think mine are older. x
Mine have 4 and a half years between them!
My mum actually likes cold tea. Could this be an evolved coping mechanism from when my brother and I were pesky and small?
Clearly,
does that mean it will grow on me?
Oh it’s changed here…. gone bit posh. Twin boy seems to have lowered the tone with his language (and poo threats – wish I hadn’t read that one it’s disturbed me).
PG tips? surely earl grey dear, and a teapot, one must keep one’s standards up, milk in first.
Well its about time you stopped by!