Welcome to my first ever #FessUpFriday blog series post. To begin the series, I felt it was only right for me to ‘fess up’ first…
September 2013 was a fairly busy time for me to say the least. E was only two weeks old whilst my first-born, J was about to start school for the very first time. We had spent months preparing for this momentous occasion, we had been out and had bought the uniform, PE kit, school bag, PE bag, socks, shoes, pumps, school coat, pencil-case, stationary, lunch box, drinks bottle and all the rest of the logo-covered paraphernalia that the school had to offer. I had ticked every box there was to be ticked and as far as I was concerned, whilst I might have been knee-deep in nappies running on only two hours of sleep: I was organised, I was ready and I was coping just fine thanks.
J seemed to be settling into school life really well and whilst I missed him endlessly, time seemed to pass fairly quickly as I had my hands full back at home with his little sister and the housework. I would look forward to picking J up each afternoon and tried to rush around to get all the jobs done before he came home, so that we could spend quality time together when he finished school.
One particular afternoon whilst running around like a headless chicken, trying to get the endless list of tasks completed before E woke from her nap (you know how it is). I should have paid more attention to what I was doing because without realising it, I had set myself up for a huge #parentfail.
J had brought his PE kit home the day before so that I could wash it and promptly return it to its rightful place upon his peg should he need it during the next few days. J’s PE kit consisted of a red t-shirt with the school logo embroidered onto the chest and a pair of black shorts.
As his kit were both ‘dark-wash items’ I threw them into the wash together along with the other darks, which there was a fair amount of. Following them being washed, I then threw all the darks into the tumble dryer as I tended to do back then because I couldn’t be bothered hanging things out on the line whilst caring for a newborn.
The time seemed to be getting on and I was aware that I would need to leave shortly for the school run. I stupidly decided as I often tend to make these silly decisions to set myself the challenge of getting all the drying folded and sorted before leaving for school, that way I could then return the PE kit that day. This would give me a sense of accomplishment and of course, mostly likely annoy every other parent with my amazing, organised, domestic goddess like appearance. Nobody would ever guess that I had been sat in my pyjamas until 11am that morning watching Holly and Phil whilst feeding a fussy baby. I was rocking this Super Mum malarky like a boss…
Two days later J came home with his PE kit tucked inside his school bag. I was slightly surprised as I didn’t think it would need to be washed again so soon but who was I to argue? J waited until we were back at home to quietly tell me “Mummy, you got my PE kit wrong”. I was perplexed and wondered whether it may be the wrong size and so opened his PE kit to check. Inside was one red t-shirt with the logo which seemed to be the right size to me and one pair of black… OH MY GOD, NO!!! BLACK KNICKERS!? Not just any black knickers but my biggest, tummy hugging, post birth, Bridget-sodding-Jones knickers. How the hell had they got into my son’s PE kit!? Never mind that but who else had seen my Granny pants? Oh god… what if J had to wear them for his PE lesson!? Oh god the shame…
I ran out of the kitchen to find J, he was upstairs in his room playing obliviously with some Lego. I asked him what he had worn for PE that day. J casually looked at me and explained “I wore my black shorts Mummy. I just don’t understand why your knickers were inside of them. Don’t worry though the teacher sorted it out”. THE TEACHER!? THE TEACHER SAW MY KNICKERS!? I stood on the landing, mouth gaping open wishing the World would swallow me up.
Somehow whilst rushing the laundry in my ridiculous attempt to be some kind of Super Mum, I managed to miss my rather gigantic Granny Pants (how on earth could anyone miss those I haven’t a clue, I blame it on lack of sleep…) hiding inside my sons shorts and had packed them into his PE kit for him to share with a class of thirty five-year olds, his Teacher and two Learning Support Assistants. As it turns out, they all saw the funny side of my failure, I however am still shame faced to this day. So much for Super Mum, I’m more ‘Stupid-Mum’.