Bald toast, battered gnomes and the supernatural

*FANFARE* Eli slept past 5am, which means Christiaan and I slept past 5am too hooray!!!!

We were treated to a luxurious 6.38am wake up, the first in weeks! It should have been good news, but I knew the night hadn’t gone too smoothly; Eli hadn’t been at all settled. I knew he was awake because I was awake too. Now, I’ve either got a six sense about these things or the baby monitor infiltrates my brain more than I realise because my eyes pinged open at half one and there he was on my wee monitor screen with his eyes open, Morris dancing with his muzzy. He was happy enough so I left him to it but I could not get back to fucking sleep until he was settled again which I’m sure took about an hour. I swear they re-programme you when you go in to give birth. They take away your figure, and your ability to sneeze without pissing yourself and inject you with the guilt of a thousand Catholics and the ability to hear a mouse fart 14 miles away.

So I was awake, Eli was awake but Christiaan, Bonnie and Bear were not awake. They were very much asleep and had the audacity to breathe, which of course meant I couldn’t get back to sleep because it sounded like 15 hurricanes and a tornado. My brain must have stopped being a bad tempered fucker at some point though because next thing I knew it was 6.38 and the wee man wanted up to “see Daddy and look at boats Mummy”. Right then my boy, that I can do.


We tottered downstairs and because Christiaan starts work at 8 we were up against it a bit time wise. The luxury of a 5am wake up normally is that you can sit in your jammas, have a cuppa and come round a bit before the day gets right up in your chops and shouts “Hiya sausage!” but not today. Firstly, I felt fucking awful, I have no idea why, there should have been no pay back from yesterday really but clearly my luck was a miserable arsehole who’d gone out for the day. Secondly, it meant I had to face the shower of bullets earlier than I would have liked. I say a shower of bullets, we have shockingly bad water pressure here (which will hopefully get sorted with the new boiler this week – get in) so it’s more like a stream of gerbil piss, but when I’m in sensory overload it hurts a lot. If that wasn’t bad enough, last night during a particularly fucking horrible attack of the icy bullet goosebumps, I’d got to wondering if they would maybe hurt less if I shaved my legs – maybe the hairs were catching my trousers and making it feel worse? So I promised myself that I was shaving my legs this morning to see if it helped.  I’m too much of a stubborn arsehole to have gone back on a promise I made to myself, in front of no witnesses –  so I did it. I went in the shower, it hurt, I shaved my legs, it hurt and knackered me – what a way to start the fucking day eh? Also… it hasn’t helped *sigh* all that bastarding effort for nothing. I’m going back to being a hairy fucker from here on in.

We’re having to shower downstairs at the moment on account of all the plumbing being shut off thanks to ceiling vag, so I had the added challenge of getting my arse upstairs so that I could get dressed after… this was a morning that just kept on giving.  I eventually got up the fucking stairs, got dressed and got back down to find Eli having the mother of all paddies because of reasons: possibly related to the chocolate spread toast he normally devours but today was deemed poison. The poo from yesterday had still not arrived and I suspected this was at the root of his arseholery so I let him away with leaving it, and after trying (and failing) to coax him with an apple we agreed a yoghurt would be a sensible way for us both to start the day. So that’s what we had.

I knew I needed to go to Asda today and to be honest, I’d have gladly fucked it off but A – it gets both Eli and I out (and I cage him in a trolley to control him) and B – only Asda do the nappy sacks I like. Yes, I have favourite nappy sacks. Fuck you. So off we went, I toyed with the idea of buying another giant gnome for my brothers pristine garden just to make my nieces laugh but decided against it. Its his birthday this week and it’s what I’ve bought him the last two years, but last years gnome died a horrific death by falling off the shed step and smashing its face in… well that’s what he told me had happened. I’m pretty sure he kicked its gnomey face in and I’m not bringing another gnome full of hope and happiness into such an unhealthy home life.  Anyway, here was last years along with the year before’s “present”.

Daraghs birthday

So we went to Asda, it was a struggle but I got round it v slowly, got what we needed and we were on our road home again when Eli utterly shit me up by looking at the sun roof and saying “hello Nan, look at my books Nan. Oh Nan, my muzzy, look at my muzzy!”. Now Nan is Christiaan’s mum who lives in Chesterfield. Nan was not in the car and was certainly not sat on the sunroof looking in while I was driving. Well that was it, by the time we’d got home I was convinced something had happened to Christiaan’s Mum: IT MUST BE A SIGN. It was a fucking sign, a sign that I am beyond knackered and possibly losing my mind a bit. Regardless,  I made Christiaan call his folks and make sure they weren’t dead. They weren’t, which was a relief obviously but it was additionally reassuring because I’ve enough on my plate without the dead channelling themselves through my toddler when I’m driving. No one needs that shit.

5 minutes after we got in “the shite” arrived and I had an instantly happier boy. I wasn’t happy mind, it was fucking horrific – I won’t labour the point because… we’ll I’m not sure if you’ve had your dinner but lets just say I was right chuffed to have bought a new candle to burn through the chewy flavour of the air.

We also had a miracle here today at lunchtime. Eli actually ATE bald toast – i.e. toast without chocolate spread on, which was ironic given his refusal to eat chocolate clad toast this morning. This is a progress. He has never eaten toast unless it was smothered either in jam, or chocolate spread… and he’s even taken to refusing jam now. I genuinely don’t know what to do about that kid and his eating. He’s not fading away, look at him but it’s pissing me off no end. Anyway, I took a photo of him eating bald toast and I’ve marked the calendar because I doubt it’ll happen again.


It didn’t last. He literally ate a quarter of a slice before he demanded “soups”. Who gives up on lovely buttery white toast for vegetable soup? Never in a million years would it occur to me; I was still lusting after the sandwich I’d passed on yesterday. I knew I’d regret not having it but I could punch myself in the face repeatedly for missing my chance. Oh beautiful sandwich, next week, NEXT WEEK you shall be mine and we’ll have a lovely time together. In fact bring your friend, the filthy one, Golden Wonder Cheese & Onion and we’ll have a dirty dirty threesome. Fuck you fat club.

So, we got through his lunch and finally, FINALLY it was his nap time. He’d been alright since the shite but I was  really really struggling, I wasn’t thinking straight and my body was aching so after he’d twatted around for 45 mins getting to sleep I collapsed into bed. I had no choice. Not for long mind, we were round at my folks this afternoon rather than our normal Tuesday morning visit so I dragged both of our tired arses round there. He performed beautifully, was full of smiles and cheek and had all of the cute; it was lovely. I was able to sit down, he played with my folks and his other best pal, the dog, and I reckon everyone enjoyed each others company – plus, it ate away some time for me that I would have otherwise had to spend entertaining him on my own – winner winner chicken dinner. Here he is with the furry beast, also known as Angel (blame my mum).


It’s now 6pm and I’ve done it. I’ve managed to solo parent for two days. Christiaan finished work just after 4 and has taken over now, and I could cry with relief. I’m sure he could cry too…. poor fucker, he just finishes one job and it’s onto the other.

It’s been hard, but you know that, because I’ve told you between yesterdays blog and today so I won’t go back over it again but I will say that I’m starting to feel a wee bit concerned that this flare isn’t going to be short lived. Tomorrow marks 3 weeks since I went off work and I’m not getting any better; if anything I’m probably a little worse than I was when I first went off; and that isn’t good. Not for me, not for work and not for our family but I’m at a loss as to what to do to improve things. I’m fucked if I know what to do for the best, because nothing I do is making any difference here; my brain has stolen my body and is joy riding it around the cognitive race track and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I’ve got 2 weeks for it all to iron itself out, that’s when my doctors note takes me till and I know I could get it extended but I’m normally the optimistic kind who would be telling you that I WILL be back at work, but this time….I’ve got a pretty shit feeling in my gut about all this. I’ll just need to see how it plays out I guess.

What HAS helped cheer me up though is a glorious delivery from my fave online shop Little Buttons Boutique . I’ve said before that Eli is my shameless hobby, I love seeing him looking all colourful and comfy – like a wee stretchy rainbow so I spend more money on his clothes than I do on mine, or Christiaans for that matter. Wendy and Mandy at LBB are great, I’d ordered this after a convo with them on Sunday and it arrived today; those ladies look after me.

Look at him though ❤ glorious, GLORIOUS rainbow stars.


And look, there’s my old woman’s slipper again in the bottom of the pic. Fuck me, I need to get more style in my life; I’ve been buying a few bits since I started dropping my weight but I get pissed off with it all. I need  a new coat/jacket type thing though, the one I have is far too big and too warm now we’re coming into warmer weather. So I needed to shop for a new one; which is almost like a form of torture to me. I’ve  no idea what size I actually am since losing the last chunk of weight AND I’m too tight to pay out for something expensive when I’m hopefully going to keep on losing so I’ve just ordered the first reasonably priced jacket I could find.  I should have just fashioned myself one those poncho things other women can pull off from a bathroom towel and a bit of curtain, but I’ve ordered one online. Who fucking knows what it’ll look like on but it’ll need to do.

Anyway, I’m all over the place here, it’s taken me way longer to write this than is respectable, I’m 99% sure it has grammatical errors all over it and I’m just not on form so I’m off to bed. Hopefully tomorrow’s better.

So today’s synopsis:

  • Highlights
    • Solo parenting challenge completed for the week
    • I have a new jacket coming
    • Eli has been 90% joyful today
    • The plants haven’t died since yesterday
  • Lowlights
    • I’m feeling pretty low about stuff, not depressed but just not over the moon with the whole situation and I need to snap myself out of  it (and I will)
    • I had to sleep again today, it was shit but necessary
  • What’s on the menu Mellars?
    • Breakfast – a yoghurt
    • Lunch – A slice of wholemeal with one scrambled egg on
    • Dinner – Heck sausage casserole with cajun wedges
      • I’ve not eaten enough today, I know this.

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