The day in the life of a TUESDAY.

What did I do today?
Woke at 6.30am when liz shouted "I need to do a peeeeeeeee". Husband went and had an argument about time of day and possibly to wait half hour more if that's OK.
Cup of tea in bed.
All out of bed and getting dressed by 7.30am.
Breakfast. cereal. cornflakes/shreddies/branflakes today. make M's packed lunch (bagel with ham).
Shower for me. Husband to work (7.50am). Get dressed. Sort out kids hair. Find hats. Apply first layer of factor 50 on their arms and cheeks.
Despite always having plenty of time for hair and finding shoes and book bag we always leave the house in a flurry of "have you got, did you do, where's my..? LIZ GET IN THE BUGGY no you can't do a pee now...". "Oh. OK, better do a pee then. quickly."

Go to school. Get hot.
Come back from school. Dripping.
Do some hoovering. Liz watched bad-tracking-Cinderella on our new 2nd hand VHS player.
Reapply sun cream. Meet friend vanessa for walk & cold drink in local nature reserve. Watched trains and butterflies. Liz needed to poo.
Came home. Very hot. Gallons of water. Put water in freezer for later. And apple juice cartons.
More hoovering. More sweating.
Lunch. Pitta bread ham cucumber cherry toms marmite cream cheese ribena ("can I dip my ham in the 'bena?").
Sweep up kitchen mop floor and unstick bits of ham-soaked-in-'bena off floor.
Liz has siesta on sofa watching rest of Cinderella even more flickery this time but can't be bothered to adjust it she doesn't seem to notice. Durh.
I made supper for tonight. Roasted squash & couscous. to have cold. With beeeeer. hmmmm. Nice.
Filled up paddling pool with liz once Flickery Cinders is over (every time:"but who ripped her dress?"). Sat with veiny (mine not Liz's) feet in the pool. Liz fell in backwards and got totally soaked.
Dry ourselves. Reapply layer three of sun cream. I think my skin feels a bit like the freshly painted windowsills right now.
Walk to school over roasting pavements, past steaming dog-shit and evaporating stinky dog-wee. Pleasant neighbourhood I mutter to myself.
Legs feel like LOGS in this heat! THUMP THUMP THUMP here comes the Mothers Ruin - you can hear her all over North London thumping over the melting pavements splashing through the runny dog poo cursing at the accrid dog pee staining the floor....
Get Mol to ballet. We all feel like we've walked hours and miles hours and miles.
Sit on the grass at the YMCA and get bitten by a bloody ant. Fucker. Right on my arse cheek. Straight in under my shorts. Hm. Nice bit of juicy Bum.
Stagger home along the "New River" where we have a communion with Nature - mother duck with her 3 babies floating on the river on her nest. Sweet.
Home. Sausages. Baked Beans. Toast. Cucumber. Ice lollies. Grapes. Feet back in the paddling pool.
Re-clean kitchen scrape beans off the floor.
Think about the last stage of the day: bath time & books, before I can tuck into Enders / 1664-Kronenburg & cous cous.
The day in the life of a mother is just one endless trail of chasing poo kids pee food dirt more poo ... and somewhere underneath is a woman crying out for an office, a power suit with extra large shoulder pads and a personal assistant bringing her coffee and croissant and going over today's meetings.