This one's for all you parents of single kids or girls - I don't care if you have a flock of them.

Holy mofo mother of christ. Now I remember why I drink.

Ah, a peaceful Saturday with the boys. The Wilkinson Fun Fair, complete with cauliflower (more commonly know as candy floss), lollipops, cookies, more candy and pretzels, for nutritional balance.

No lunch of any substance. Nachos for dinner (wow, I'm earning my perfect mom badge today!) lime sherbet for dessert and 60 minutes of Batman cartoons. Unsurprisingly, this was followed by an hour of total chaos, which I gave up any attempt to control. I eventually went up to survey the damage and found Calvin's blind ripped from the window and the kids half undressed, both in Calvin's bed.

I lost it. Shrieked and yelled to absolutely no avail. Took a deep breath and reverted to annoying, sanctimonious mom.

I hate the sound of myself talking like that. Respect, unacceptable. If I never hear those words again my life will be complete. Unfortunately, they are the only things that work. Yelling, smacking (oh yeah, in my weaker moments I experiment with corporal punishment, but unfortunately it doesn't work at all though I find it disturbingly satisfying), stomping... all just things my kids throw back at me when they are angry. Calm mummy made Jack tidy his room (since he seemed to have energy to burn) then we had lecture 16B on respect, not wrecking the place and unacceptable behaviour, culminating in the banning of movie night from our house. While my words don't seem to provoke a dramatic reaction, at least they calm down and go to bed. Repeated said lecture to Calvin, adding Annex A - you're the older brother set a good example you should know better I could cheerfully choke you and leave you out for the raccoons...OK, maybe not that part.

Silence. Blessed silence. I'm having a glass of wine. Or two. Fuck it - it's Saturday night.