Nose bleed, nits and nuggets. That’s been my Friday night. Just before we all headed up for bathtime I hear a piercing scream followed by hysterical crying. My 9 year old is prone to dramatics (we’ve told him the story The Boy Who Cried Wolf about a million times) and so I didn’t rush out of the kitchen from clearing away dinner that I’d slaved over for nearly an hour, which was inhaled by children and playdates in approximately 3 minutes and washed down afterwards with a game of football; but then there was a certain pitch to his crying that made me think I should go and investigate. (I remember people talking about knowing their baby’s cry if it meant hunger or nappy or tired…I never got it, unless they all meant hunger!) Thank goodness he was on the stairs, the only carpet yet to be replaced whilst all the building work goes on. It was, to be fair, quite a lot of blood. Apparently, he was trying to take the mattress back up to ride down on it again (the joys of his younger brothers breaking his older brother’s bed this week - because we really needed a trip to IKEA on Bank Holiday Monday in the sweltering heat – that, and the house being in general chaos, means fun games like mattress sliding are all par for the course) and he tripped and nose-dived but missed the MASSIVE mattress and hit the stairs.

After clearing the blood from the bathroom like a crazed psychopath I looked up and saw my 7 year old itch his head. Seriously? Let me check. ERGHHH!!! I HATE those things. Right, line up all of you. Ok, not bad outcome; one out of 4. All others clear but will douse the little one anyway as they’re virtually inseparable.

Into bed for stories with towels from the airing cupboard on the pillows to prevent the slime leaking out from their floral shower caps whilst the nits are suffocated in style, and a spider the size of a tarantula sprints across the room trying to escape back to the obviously warm cupboard. Oh God. The OH is now home trying to make the new bed and my screaming seems to be out-of-body-crazed-lunatic style reminding me that my children do have some of my qualities but also many of my flaws.

As my OH returns from disposing of the arachnid in the bathroom, he steps in teeny tiny poo nuggets left whilst the hamster was exercising during the spider incident. As he was rolling around his ball depositing the nuggets I could imagine him thinking “Is this my life?” – oh no, they were my thoughts!

I haven’t even told you about how the bunny got caught between 2 wire fences – felt like someone off a wildlife show as I got the wire cutters and set her free. No one saw that heroic rescue. No one saw when the ceiling fell down last week either. Lucky, I guess because that probably would have hurt if it had been witnessed. No one saw the cat disappear last week either; I wish she’d let me know she was going because now all I keep imagining is her being plastered up in the new stud wall. I even asked my husband if we can get thermal imaging to see if she’s in there and asked the builder if he’s a nutter and did her in – sort of; well, I asked him if he saw her sniffing around the wall at any time… but he got what I was insinuating. I did then make him lots of cups of tea and give him homemade flapjacks; I think he’s forgiven me.

As the banging of the hammer to the new bed is still going on upstairs no one saw me scoffing a bag of giant chocolate buttons just now. So being invisible sometimes has its benefits – although as the nits have found out – you can run but you can’t hide!

If you're not planning on running away for half term you might want to find out what's on in the area to keep your little (and big) critters entertained. Head to your local Mum's guide to site  www.mumsguideto.co.uk/uk  for ideas.

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