waking up in our home
With the impending arrival of my family in a few days' time, I have been mentally compiling a list of things I think all our houseguests should know. Not that I'm actually going to print it out and give it to them, but it's more like me stepping to one side and looking at the way our household runs from a guest's point of view. And even though this is my family who are more than used to our quirks and mess, they haven't actually been with us for almost nine months, so I'd say they probably will have to find a new footing with us when they come.
Things people will realise when they live with us, be it a night, a week, or for a month:
1. The children wake early. It's a lucky, lucky day if Bao wakes at 7.30am, but most of the time we average 6.30 - 7am. Bao will rather kindly alert the entire household to her waking by standing in her crib and shouting: 'UP!', 'READ!', 'THIS!' If her parents have the gall to turn their backs to her in the hope of catching thirty seconds more snooze time, she will up the ante by screaming. There's an alarm in my phone for 7.25am, but I don't really know why it's there at all when it's obvious there is no need for it.
2. Once the children are up, they generate enough noise to wake the entire building. First, there's Bao complaining about having her diaper changed, because who cares about a soggy diaper when your main goal for the morning is to run to your brother's room to peel his eyelids open? Then, once The Bun is up, there's either 1) whining and shouting if he woke up grouchy, or 2) nonstop chatter about random things, if he woke up with ideas tumbling all over his head. There's also 3) arguing with and shouting at his sister for touching the things in his room or 4) making a show of sharing things with Bao and then milking it for praise - 'aren't I a good sharer Mummy? I was nice to her, did you see? Did you? DID YOU?'
3. Oh but let's not blame it all on the children. There's the noise I contribute as well, usually in the form of sleep-deprived, non-functional-without-morning-caffeine growling. Here's a sample of the things I say:
~ I am going to count to five. One, twooooooo, threeeeeeeee….
~ If you slide off the blanket backwards and bump your head don't come crying to me.
~ NO!
~ Yes, there's PE / library / assembly in school today.
~ Did you just poo?
[Guess which sentences are directed at whom?]
4. The guest room is on the furthest end of the apartment from the children's bedrooms, but since the apartment is big, sound reverberates through it with no effort at all. Furthermore, there is a corridor that connects all the bedrooms, which creates a sound tunnel effect, pushing the children's voices through towards the guest room.
5. If by some miracle our visitor manages to sleep through the commotion so far, they probably won't after breakfast commences, due to the unfortunate location of the guest room door, which is opposite the kitchen where we usually have breakfast. Here we have the coffee machine whirring, toaster dinging, cupboard doors slamming (by Bao, not me!), and general shouting (from Bao, not me!).
6. Once the kids are done with breakfast they run off to play. If it's a school day then houseguests are forced to listen to a countdown, directed at The Bun, so that he knows how many minutes he has left before he needs to leave for school. Since I'm usually still in the kitchen finishing breakfast and cleaning up, and J is on the other end of the apartment washing up and getting dressed, this countdown mostly involves either parent sticking their head into the corridor (aka sound tunnel, see point 4 above) and shouting 'eight minutes!' and so on, until J and The Bun leave for school and work and the noise level drops by 75%.
7. If there is no school, once the kids are done with breakfast they commence stretching out their limbs and lungs. Today their exercise of choice involved running circuits around the apartment while pulling their balloons (from Festichoc) along behind them. The Bun is usually in the lead, out of breath from running and laughing so much, while his sister shouts as loud as she can while chasing him. For a toddler her footfall is unusually heavy. Whoever said that children involve the pitter-patter of tiny feet obviously didn't have any children running around in an old building with very thin walls and floors.
8. Done with their exercise, if the adults are lucky the children then settle down to some quiet play on their own. The Bun likes to shut himself in his room and play in his bed, and Bao tends to head for the playroom where she will take everything out of their boxes and throw them around play. J and I call this period of relative peace 'the zone' and we quickly take advantage of it. I have been known to walk the long way around from the kitchen to the bedroom (instead of using the corridor) because I don't want to break the spell when Bao spots me walking by. I also tend to eat breakfast at this point because it means I get to enjoy it on my own without being bugged by everybody else, and even get some reading done along the way. Houseguests should use this time of temporary respite carefully, because once the children emerge from their respective zones, it will be endless talking and stalking all the way.
I'm sure there's more to note but just writing the above has made me want to go lie down. Maybe I'll continue this list later. I've been dreading the summer holidays because with The Bun knocking around at home there will doubtless be much more fighting and shouting for weeks on end. I thought about signing him up for a summer camp just to give him something to do but J has just announced that he needs to be in Venice in July for work so I guess we'll all just tag along for the ride. Sunshine, pizzas, and gelato on tap. Maybe the noisemakers will be drowned out by the Italians and the tourists. The Italians like bambinos don't they?
Not quiet even with a mouth full of biscuit.
Things people will realise when they live with us, be it a night, a week, or for a month:
1. The children wake early. It's a lucky, lucky day if Bao wakes at 7.30am, but most of the time we average 6.30 - 7am. Bao will rather kindly alert the entire household to her waking by standing in her crib and shouting: 'UP!', 'READ!', 'THIS!' If her parents have the gall to turn their backs to her in the hope of catching thirty seconds more snooze time, she will up the ante by screaming. There's an alarm in my phone for 7.25am, but I don't really know why it's there at all when it's obvious there is no need for it.
2. Once the children are up, they generate enough noise to wake the entire building. First, there's Bao complaining about having her diaper changed, because who cares about a soggy diaper when your main goal for the morning is to run to your brother's room to peel his eyelids open? Then, once The Bun is up, there's either 1) whining and shouting if he woke up grouchy, or 2) nonstop chatter about random things, if he woke up with ideas tumbling all over his head. There's also 3) arguing with and shouting at his sister for touching the things in his room or 4) making a show of sharing things with Bao and then milking it for praise - 'aren't I a good sharer Mummy? I was nice to her, did you see? Did you? DID YOU?'
3. Oh but let's not blame it all on the children. There's the noise I contribute as well, usually in the form of sleep-deprived, non-functional-without-morning-caffeine growling. Here's a sample of the things I say:
~ I am going to count to five. One, twooooooo, threeeeeeeee….
~ If you slide off the blanket backwards and bump your head don't come crying to me.
~ NO!
~ Yes, there's PE / library / assembly in school today.
~ Did you just poo?
[Guess which sentences are directed at whom?]
4. The guest room is on the furthest end of the apartment from the children's bedrooms, but since the apartment is big, sound reverberates through it with no effort at all. Furthermore, there is a corridor that connects all the bedrooms, which creates a sound tunnel effect, pushing the children's voices through towards the guest room.
5. If by some miracle our visitor manages to sleep through the commotion so far, they probably won't after breakfast commences, due to the unfortunate location of the guest room door, which is opposite the kitchen where we usually have breakfast. Here we have the coffee machine whirring, toaster dinging, cupboard doors slamming (by Bao, not me!), and general shouting (from Bao, not me!).
6. Once the kids are done with breakfast they run off to play. If it's a school day then houseguests are forced to listen to a countdown, directed at The Bun, so that he knows how many minutes he has left before he needs to leave for school. Since I'm usually still in the kitchen finishing breakfast and cleaning up, and J is on the other end of the apartment washing up and getting dressed, this countdown mostly involves either parent sticking their head into the corridor (aka sound tunnel, see point 4 above) and shouting 'eight minutes!' and so on, until J and The Bun leave for school and work and the noise level drops by 75%.
7. If there is no school, once the kids are done with breakfast they commence stretching out their limbs and lungs. Today their exercise of choice involved running circuits around the apartment while pulling their balloons (from Festichoc) along behind them. The Bun is usually in the lead, out of breath from running and laughing so much, while his sister shouts as loud as she can while chasing him. For a toddler her footfall is unusually heavy. Whoever said that children involve the pitter-patter of tiny feet obviously didn't have any children running around in an old building with very thin walls and floors.
8. Done with their exercise, if the adults are lucky the children then settle down to some quiet play on their own. The Bun likes to shut himself in his room and play in his bed, and Bao tends to head for the playroom where she will take everything out of their boxes and throw them around play. J and I call this period of relative peace 'the zone' and we quickly take advantage of it. I have been known to walk the long way around from the kitchen to the bedroom (instead of using the corridor) because I don't want to break the spell when Bao spots me walking by. I also tend to eat breakfast at this point because it means I get to enjoy it on my own without being bugged by everybody else, and even get some reading done along the way. Houseguests should use this time of temporary respite carefully, because once the children emerge from their respective zones, it will be endless talking and stalking all the way.
I'm sure there's more to note but just writing the above has made me want to go lie down. Maybe I'll continue this list later. I've been dreading the summer holidays because with The Bun knocking around at home there will doubtless be much more fighting and shouting for weeks on end. I thought about signing him up for a summer camp just to give him something to do but J has just announced that he needs to be in Venice in July for work so I guess we'll all just tag along for the ride. Sunshine, pizzas, and gelato on tap. Maybe the noisemakers will be drowned out by the Italians and the tourists. The Italians like bambinos don't they?
Not quiet even with a mouth full of biscuit.