Today was one of those days.
Whilst bouncing on the couch, clutching a little maraca, Turi gained a bit too much momentum and flew across the room striking his head on the window frame. He is now sporting a blue, bloody, golf ball sized lump in the centre of his forehead.
Shortly afterwards, in a fight for my affections, both children simultaneously dove in to give me a hug, cracking their heads together like a pair of human cymbals. More blood, more tears.
In an effort to salve the tears I tried to make a chocolate cake but it leaked through the removable base of the cake tin, flooding sticky cake batter not only into the oven, but through the oven door and onto my freshly washed kitchen floor. Since this has never happened before I can only assume I inadvertently walked under a ladder, recently blasphemed or someone, somewhere has fashioned a small voodoo doll of me that is clutching a tiny leaking cake tin.
To top it off, across the course of the day, Turi urinated on the floor twice and knocked over roughly ten cups of water. Despite all evidence to the contrary he has decided that he is mature enough to drink unassisted from a regular cup and to use the toilet like a big boy (though thankfully not at the same time). If he is denied either of these requests he wails inconsolably and pounds his head on the floor. Needless to say my patience is wearing thin.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to scour burnt cake batter from the insides of my oven. Motherhood is bliss.