Before I had children I liked ice cubes a lot. What’s not to like about something that is an integral part of a Mojito?
Now I have small children I think ice cubes are fucking awesome.
The past week has been hot and sunny and my children have been tired and grumpy. This is not what I envisaged when I signed on to be a Stay At Home Mum. I hoped I would be sitting in the garden reading a book whilst being playfully splashed by my children in the paddling pool laughing at all my mates sitting sweating in hot offices.
Now I realise that small children and hot sun do not mix well. My 2 year old is currently covered in a heat rash so violent I actually Googled to check it was not the bubonic plague (it’s almost definitely not).
My son, who we have already established is a dick, is now a hot dick. He is again possibly teething, and he has a cold or maybe it is looking at his spot covered sister that is making him cry.
It makes me want to cry.
But this was meant to be a happy, sunny, summery post about the simple joys of frozen water.
Ice cubes are the one chink of happiness in our sweat filled days. My son stumbles round the house crying and clasping a dripping ice cube in each hand, when his cries get louder and more pain filled I simply refill his plastic bowl with fresh ice and the noise subsides.
My daughter has stopped eating solids so the home made frozen lollies are all that is keeping her alive.
So next time you open the freezer door, say a big thank you to that small plastic tray because it could be the most important item in your home.