It all went wrong.

Well, it was my birthday, a happy occasion, full of joy and celebration. But it all went wrong.

"Happy Birthday", my husband whispered into my ear at 6am as he was leaving for work. "I've broken the shower" he added. "What, completely broken?" came my half awake response. "Yep, it's totally broken". "Won't it even turn on?". "No. I've got to go now. Love you. See you later.".

So it started badly. I ran a bath and was just getting in when a semi-large arachnid decided to jump in first. At this point, I heard rather larger footstep in the hallway. My son had woken up early and got out of bed (unusual). I got him back into bed and his sister woke up, full of snot and crying.

I let the plug out, and went to get her milk warmed up. She wasn't well bless her, and barely drank anything. Then the boy came in. He'd definitely got out of bed the wrong side and was in a full on grump. He refused to drink his milk too or put his clothes on, or anything which involved him being reasonable. I have 30mins in the morning to get two children up, dressed and out to the childminder, which isn't long. "It's my birthday" I pleaded lamely. "Please just put your clothes on, we need to leave in 5 minutes". We left 10 minutes late (which wasn't too bad all things considered), although I still hadn't had a wash.

As I got into the car, a moment of peace, Elbow playing "One Day Like This" on Radio2. Better, I thought, much better. Today will be fine.

So, shoehorn in over an hour's drive to University, two seminars, one lecture, a meeting with another student, a meeting with a college, over an hour's drive home, picking up two children, sorting out tea, and taking children up to the bath.

Text from husband "Sorry, had to work late, will be home late. x". So, up to the bath we go. The girl sitting in her chair and the boy sitting on the mat, both in the bath. Everything was going swimmingly. Until the girl did something she has never, ever done before. She let rip and did a massive poo, followed by more poo, then more. I grabbed the boy out of the bath, leaving the girl and about a million toys, getting increasingly covered in poo. I started fishing for poo. Which wasn't nearly as much fun as it sounds (who am I kidding, it sounds disgusting).

At this point, with poo on my hands, the boy turned to me and said "Happy Birthday Mummy".

After much laughter, and with children both in bed, I was taken out for a lovely dinner at The Tempest, The Good Pub Guide's pub of the year 2011.