We're going on a bear hunt......and found vomit

The day was going well. Arran left for his bike ride at stupid o'clock; some time around 5am and didn't wake me up. I woke at a completely respectable 7.10am with both boys still in their room happy. Sweet.

We had a calm breakfast together after discovering there is no bread in the house and having to head over the road to the best bakery around to procure some. Life's tough in Glebe people.

I packed a little lunch box with peanut butter sandwiches, muesli bars and tiny teddies, filled up two water bottles, assembled the nappy changing kit, slathered the boys in sunscreen and set off to catch the bus to Circular Quay. We were off to see we're going on a bear hunt at the Opera House. I wish I could say that I'm one of those mummies that regularly takes their kids to such events. The few I've been to have been really good. I just don't get around to it and most of the events are on during the week (or so I thought), which doesn't work that well if you work.

I have friends who had double booked their cultural events so the boys and I scored the tickets. The show was true to the story, humorous and with second row tickets in the middle, the boys could easily see and enjoyed themselves very much. Well until the bear arrived and then Charlie wasn't so pleased, but I guess you get that.

After the show we headed into the Pitt St Mall where I had promised hot chips. Charlie fell asleep in his pram on the way so it was just Aiden and I for lunch. We managed to negotiate the seemingly thousands of people crammed into the Westfield food court (what was I thinking 2 weeks before Christmas) and was able to order food and find somewhere to sit relatively unscathed.

It was during this time that I had the thought about what a good mummy I am. Heading to the city with two small boys for some theatre and shopping. Warm comforting feeling.....

Charlie woke up at the end of lunch and we set off to Sass & Bide to purchase a T-shirt I have been thinking about all week and then on the way out find some summer sandals on special. Again, sweet. The real purpose of heading to the city was to buy Christmas presents but sensing the small boys were at the end of their patience we set off for the bus. I know. I only got presents for me.

At home close to 3pm we were all pooped! Aiden wanted to have a rest in his room watching Chugginton on the iPad, Charlie didn't put up any protests when I put him to bed and I had nearly an hour's nap on the lounge. Gotta love that.

We all surfaced at about 5.30pm and that's when the day fell apart .Aiden started complaining about having a vomit in his tummy and wanting to come to work with me on Monday. On average Aiden has a vomit in his tummy about 15% of the time he complains. Working with these averages I made the boys put on their sandals so we could head over the road to get something from the local IGA supermarket for their dinner. Halfway there (50m from the house) Aiden started crying that he was feeling sick. I made him push on, feeling annoyed that he was putting on a tantrum and thinking to myself that these boys needed to be in bed early.

Halfway down the isle with the frozen meals and milk, Aiden starts crying and screaming and then does a big vomit on the floor, on his feet and my mine ensconced in Lanvin ballet flats (for the uneducated Lanvin ballet flats are very fabulous and very expensive). The first vomit was followed up by two additional vomits and lots of crying and screaming. I nearly had a vomit in sympathy. My Louis Vuitton purse and the frozen pizza I was buying was also covered in vomit. The nearby supermarket worker contined to stock the shelves.

I was provided with paper towels and plastic bags to clean up the mess while Aiden continued to cry and talk. This kid talks non-stop. After a whole roll of paper-towels and quite a number of retching on my part we were able to pay for our items and skulk home to hose off the lower parts of our bodies.

Aiden would only eat yoghurt for dinner and refused a freddo frog which wasn't a great sign. He looked and smelt much better after a warm bubble bath and cleaning his teeth. Was just about to put some fresh pyjamas on him when he vomited again. Mostly in the toilet but he managed to hit his and Charlie's clean PJ's. 

Any thoughts of being a good mummy had completely vanished as I cleaned vomit off the bathroom floor with small boy pyjamas and the bath mat. My only thought was getting the boys to bed and retiring to the lounge.

I hope Arran is enjoying his bike ride.