Last week, this week and next week…

Dear Universe,

I’m a little bit busy at the moment so I’m not sure if I want you to slow down so that I can fit everything into the day that I need to get done or speed up so that it’s all over.

Last week, this week and next week probably won’t kill me but that won’t stop me whinging to anyone who will listen. Which actually is just my kids because my husband was away last week, this week and next week.

Thankfully my kids have developed a rare kind of hearing selectivity based around only listening to conversations that are related to Pokémon and therefore my whinging has left them unscarred.

(Please bring me all your chocolate.)

I am having the kind of days at work at the moment where for every job I get done I have two more new ones pop up.

(Please send me all your chocolate.)

Today I got head butted by a cow. It hurt but apparently Choco just wanted me to scratch her face.

(Chocolate here, now.)

I had a meeting with a 3 teachers from the local school about a special needs child while supervising 25 four year old children patting chickens and rabbits.

(Put the chocolate in my mouth.)

I’m organising an AGM for next Tuesday evening and hoping that of the 66 families invited there may be someone willing to help out on the committee next year.

(It doesn’t need to be good chocolate, just chocolate flavoured.)

Today I had to let a staff member know that there won’t be a position for them next year, had to let my boss know that her phone bill is too high and had to determine what to do with the butter that wasn’t Halal.

(Chocolate coated nuts would even be acceptable at this stage.)

But for now I’m going to try and wrangle my two darling sons into bed and watch some Netflix.

(There may or may not have been some subliminal messages sent to you through this post.)

So in conclusion Universe I know that you are busy at the moment with the election and everything but please look after me and my chocolate needs.

Good night. xx

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Back to reality…

“Snap back to reality, oh there goes gravity”…

School holidays are over and my husband is back to traveling a lot.

He’s only home on Saturday for the next 2 weeks. That’s 6 days of the week for me to rule the world and one day for me to flake out and probably snap a bit about how I’m the only one putting away the washing.

My head throbs thinking about it all.

I took a mum from my preschool to visit a special school for her son on Wednesday and she told me how she couldn’t survive without her family’s support.

She said she speaks to her dad and her mum at least 5 times a day.

She has a lot of support. Her husband works for her brother and her parents baby sit nearly every day.

I don’t have that.

A lot of people don’t.

But I kind of wish I did.

I get lonely doing it all on my own.

I’d like to be looked after a little bit too.

My husband’s flight home tonight has been delayed so I’m in bed watching Sleepless in Seattle and feeling slightly smug because I’ve had a good week.

The boys and I are happy. Apart from the 7 year old questioning why he needs to have baths and what would happen if he didn’t do poo anymore.

There are daily dilemmas that I see coming and can duck under and swat away with ease.

Didn’t have any of the other kind this week. The problems that jump out from the shadows and kick you in the teeth.

My teeth are in tact and so is my sanity.

And tomorrow I’m sleeping in.

xx

Can/Can’t

Sometimes I literally can’t.

Except that I can.

So I do.

Right well enough of the cryptic crap. How are we all?

I slammed the car door on my foot yesterday morning. That would be an automatic fail on your drivers license.

*Unable to get into car safely.*

It hurt a lot and there was nobody else around to extract sympathy from so I just drove quietly to work. And by quietly I mean quietly convinced that it was broken in several places and needed plaster.

I limped around for a bit and then my colleague suggested we put together a trike we had ordered for the Kinder kids… with the kids helping.

3 minutes of the kids “helping” us assemble a trike and my foot no longer hurt but I was quietly convinced that my brain was about to explode.

4 year olds (so many bloody 4 year olds) plus assembling things with instructions, tools and small parts is literally (not literally. It rarely ever is literally) a recipe for disaster.

(In a side note a recipe for literal disaster would probably involve an explosive or a high amount of laxatives or possibly both.)

After the trike was assembled I called a halt to the session and got all the kids to lie on the floor while we listened to classical music and practiced deep breathing.

My patience had expired with 4 hours of the session remaining and we hadn’t even started fighting over who would get a turn on the trike yet.

Monday was supposed to be the hardest day of the week. Tuesday not much better but Wednesday was going to be good.

Until it wasn’t.

The small things undo you when you don’t see them coming.

It’s the little things that make and break you.

I am a little bit tired of living in my head. I’m considering renting it out and living under a rock for while.

I literally can’t even.

Except that I can.

And so can you. xx

Where there’s smoke…

My son had a sore leg.

I couldn’t find a heat bag so I microwaved a small towel instead and now the house smells like smoke.

But thankfully there was no fire.

Just a small analogy to sum up my life at the moment. Also a true fact of where my brain is at right now.

Perhaps I should have slightly moistened it first?

I am making some poor choices while being scrutinised for big ones.

Yesterday at work we had our 3 yearly assessment and rating done.

Every time the lady asked who was responsible for something, for example fees, enrollments, policies and every single other thing the answer was ME.

The lady gently interrogated me for an hour and a half before the session started and then took notes for the next 5 hours while the kids were there.

During that 5 hours we had 2 separate biting incidents, a child pushed from the top of the slide and I had to make a lengthy phone call.

It was one of the worst days ever but she saw us all coping our best and she told me how good I was at staying calm.

Ha! Staying calm in the middle of a hurricane of 4 year olds is the most physically and mentally draining thing that I do.

Making up and implementing strategy after strategy when all of the previous ones fail but knowing hiding in the bathroom for more than 3 minutes is not an option.

(The previous paragraph goes for parenting/marriage at home too.)

So I survived Monday only to wake up on Tuesday bitterly disappointed that it wasn’t Wednesday and closer to the weekend.

Things happen, life happens and sometimes you end up singeing a tea towel in the microwave.

The house didn’t burn down but it smells of smoke.

Nobody died but we’re not operating at optimal capacity either.

It’s not that bad but not that good.

xx

Stupid is as stupid does…

I’ve gone a bit strange lately.

Well just this week.

I seem to be even weirder than usual and it’s making me nervous.

I shouldn’t be allowed around people.

I say inappropriate things.

I’m feeling a little bit like a loser and that perhaps I’m not worthy to breathe the same air as you.

I’m trying so hard to be normal like the rest of you and it’s not working.

How the heck do you do it?

How do you not say stupid things all the time?

How do you not spend your days wondering what’s wrong with you?

Having said that it’s not always my fault.

Just this morning in fact I was wearing my underwear and lovely little black slip thingy and applying make up to my face when my son fell over outside and started screaming.

He had grazed his leg and required immediate attention and needed to be carried inside.

I did this quickly as the very devout man who lives a few doors down was watching the spectacle of me carrying the child while wearing underwear.

As a result of this morning chaos it was only as I was sitting in assembly talking to a 4 year old girl that I found I out I had not rubbed the make up in properly.

I feel a bit like I’m failing at something.

I’m not getting something right.

I should be muzzled like a dog that can’t be trusted not to attack.

I feel a bit dumb too. Like I’m ruining things and making a fool out of myself without even trying.

The obvious solution is to hide away in bed and read.

Cry a little bit despondently about my plight. (Great word plight.)

But maybe it’s not so bad. Maybe I’m not destroying the world and maybe I’m just a quirky kinda gal.

I don’t know.

I did just read a nice quote in my book though by Melody Beattie.

“Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarify. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend.”

So instead of wallowing in despair at all the silly things I’ve said and done recently I’m choosing to be eternally grateful to all those who put up with me.

Maybe I I’ll grow up and change.

It’s unlikely though. xx

Blessed be…

It says in the bible “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God”.

I hope that’s true.

But at my house right now the peacemaker is sick of being the one who keeps the peace.

My kids are fighting a lot. It’s not uncommon for children to do this. It’s incredibly annoying though.

My husband is very angry at the fighting children and their inability to listen to his commands.

I have spent most of the weekend absorbing the negative and being the positive.

It’s exhausting.

My 6 year old punched his 8 year old brother in the head. He screamed and ran around the house and then kicked his 6 year old brother is his wobbly teeth.

There was blood. There were teeth. There were harsh words spoken.

As an added bonus there were also stunned in-laws sitting on the couch pretending to be invisible.

AWKWARD.

And there was me. Making everyone apologise. Explaining that we don’t hurt people. It’s not kind.

Blah, blah, blah.

Blessed may be the peacemaker but she also needs a holiday, a nap and hell of a lot of chocolate.

 

xx

Quality alone time…

Today I went to the trouble of googling “nunnery and single origin”.

After quickly browsing the suggestions from her Royal Googleness I can confirm that there doesn’t seem to be a convent anywhere that I can join while still being guaranteed good coffee.

Same goes for Netflix.

I have found myself yearning for solitude. Deeply desiring some serious alone time.

Of course I love my family… but I would like the opportunity to love them from a distance.

My husbands work travel starts up again next week with interstate travel booked for the next 4 weeks at least.

Today I wanted to hide in bed and read my book and listen quietly to my thoughts. Instead I drove 2 hours to my nieces 5th birthday party.

Not quite what I had in mind.

I like the idea of joining a nunnery of running away from my many blessings and being in a quiet place.

But I don’t think it works like that.

It’s all the little things that unravel me.

It’s the sports day on Tuesday. The importance of emailing a scanned document that could only be collected during school hours ASAP so that my eldest can attend a maths day at another school on Wednesday.

It’s never knowing what to have for dinner.

One day a couple of weeks ago my son ran in front of a car in the beautiful city of Mont Marte. (Probably not how you spell it.) I was in a bit of shock afterwards and the headache I’d been nursing previously went up to 11.

My husband asked me what I wanted to do. I looked at him and said “Please look after me”.

My shock at the near miss and the emotions that came with it just drained me.

I get so sick of being the one making all the little decisions that make up the day. The thoughts that wake me up at night but keep my family fed and in clean clothes that fit.

I am not joining the nunnery today but I would really like a night to myself.

Preferably catered by someone else.

xo