Pathetic pride…

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I am NOT a housewife. That is to say, that I am TERRIBLE at doing housewifey things, I don’t know how to keep on top of house maintenance. I’ve got a PhD for christs sake, so put me at a crime scene and I will really quickly give you the time of death, as well as provide a detailed report on what has happened. But ask me to keep on top of hoovering/various types of cleaning (past washing up), or ask me what type of cleaning agent is used on what and I will stare at you because I don’t know, and who talks about stuff like that? (Yes it’s weirder to talk about anthropology over the dinner table, fine.) 

HOWEVER. Over the last 24 hours my toddler had been rather violently sick a few times in a few places at home, and if there’s one thing I CAN do, it’s ANYTHING needed to keep my girls safe and well. So today I wiped, and swept, and mopped and scrubbed to try and make the place as germ free as possible. Baby Holly it seems (fingers crossed), just has tummy troubles relating to teething so we’re hoping she won’t catch the nasty vomiting part. 

I will never win any awards for a tidy, spotless house and I will be an eternal and constant disappointment to my parents on that front. BUT today I got the place shining for my daughters, and although this is a pointlessly long post about something most home runners most likely do all the time, I’m a bit bloody proud. (Oh also, housewives and househusbands, you are my HEROES, please teach me all you know). I couldn’t take away how rotten both children were feeling, and that’s horrible, but I was able to sleep on the floor next to Scarlett last night so she didn’t have to wake up and be sick on her own at any point. I have endless cuddles for both of them as they’re both feeling clingy, a bit subdued and generally not quite their bubbly selves. And to protect them, my floor gleamed today.

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