Tuesday the 12th of June 2018
What a fucking day…..No don’t worry, it’s not one of THOSE posts. I’ve caught a bus and THEN flagged a taxi to take me away from the pity party that’s dominated me this last wee while. Nah, today I’m undoubtedly fucked, but I’m in good humour so you’re safe.
I did say that today would be a challenge, I just didn’t expect it to be THIS much of a challenge. I am fucked. Utterly utterly fucked. Thing is, I shouldn’t be, because I’m most definitely not the old age pensioner who was grafting in my bedroom from 8 this morning until half three this afternoon, he puts me to shame. He looked positively spritely as he left for the day, and it was a tough shift for him because the walls were shit and the ceiling is curved; he’d worked hard but he looked fresh as a daisy, whereas I looked like I’d just been bummed by a donkey while running a marathon: shell shocked and walking funny.
I guess it didn’t help that we were all up bright and early because our adorable tiny fucking Hitler decided that 5am was for losers, the REAL fun happened at 4.40. Good. I suspect he fell out of bed again because he was crying and whiney, the duvet was all fucked up and back to front and he was cold but his incoherent babble gave nowt away. At least I was up in time to have a cup of tea, come round, get showered and get prepared for our day. The bad side is, it meant an extra hour on my own with this condensed wee psycho that would normally have been spent sleeping gloriously in bed. It was a fucked up trade off. See, Christiaan started getting the last bits moved out of the bedroom so they didn’t get covered in decorating jizz, so he was upstairs while I entertained Eli, who had apparently been pumped full of cocaine and speed in the night: he was fucking mental. As in doing laps of the house screaming at his toy monkey mental. He was clearly incredibly excited about something, but I’ve no fucking reason why? North Korea maybe. Don’t get me wrong, I was excited about the bedroom getting started but I contained that to a raised eyebrow – this kid gives too much away.
So an early start, but not necessarily a bad thing. I was to collect the painter at half seven; he’s supposed to be retired and doesn’t drive but he does odd painting jobs back and forward so long as people can collect him. I was happy to do it because he’s a family friend and I knew he’d make a good job, so off I went. ON MY OWN to collect him. I left bollockchops with Christiaan because to be honest, I was sick of his bullshit already. I needed a break. He’d only been up a few hours by this point mind, but it was enough. That 10 minute drive felt like a fucking mini break to me: no noise, nice scenery and just long enough that I didn’t get pissed off with the journey. It’s just as well I had it n all because the little fucker was unrelenting for the rest of the day, Eli that is, not the painter. No, the painter was alright, I’d have lost my shit if he was really a giant toddler in disguise. The worst he did was announce he’d need a few extra bits to sort the kitchen ceiling because he hadn’t realised it had been boarded rather than plastered. Right then auld yin, no bother, I’ll get Eli and I’ll go up to B & Q – it’ll give us something to do. Get us out for the day n all that. Except it turned into Challenge bastard Anneka because B & Q, my Mecca of life, didn’t have the joining tape I needed… how fucking rude,and actually what kind of DIY store doesn’t have joining tape? The bastards. Never mind, ScrewFix, just a few minutes down the road had it hooooray. Except, it’s not hooray because by the time I got home and showed him my bounty (via the butchers to get some breakfast shit) he declared the game a bogey; They hadn’t had the exact brand he mentioned but they had two others, one cheapy, one not and I’d gone for the more expensive option thinking it would be better, it wasn’t better, it was the wrong fucking stuff. FOR FUCKS SAKE. I may have nearly cried and looked feeble, in fact I know I did because it was such a monumental effort to get out and do that this morning. Not that he knows that, noooo, he’s not as close to the family as to know my business. So anyway he took pity on me, said that he’d come with me later and we’d get the right stuff together; praise be.
Now that was sorted I cooked his breakfast, his second of the day by the sounds of it (I reckon he’s a Hobbit), and then he said he’d have his lunch about 1. No bother, I had stuff in for lunch and was intending in chucking some veg and barley along with some gammon in the pressure cooker in a bit for myself and calling it soup. I was sorted. Only an hour and a half to get through until lunch and nap time; “it” was still hyper so I deployed the ultimate nuclear option – Dave and Ava. He stopped in his tracks, which was no mean feat because he was doing circuits of the coffee table, shouted “I LOVE DAVE AND AVA”, grabbed monkey and dragged it on to the couch where he held it’s hand for the entire time: Bliss. Except it was a slow painful kind of bliss; a bit like dying.
Those bags under my eyes are fantastic in that pic and they’ve got worse since; I now look like I’m smuggling 2kg of spuds under each eyeball. My face is one big bag for life. Joy.
After the Dave and Ava crack down he crashed a bit, he was knackered so we fought about him trying a jam sandwich (fail) and then I shovelled soup down his throat until he was full. Thankfully he went down for his nap without any carry on, pre 5am wake ups are cracking for a quick nap turn around and he fell asleep cuddling in which was lovely (for me, I would imagine he wasn’t arsed). Even with a decorator grunting along to “Satisfaction” in the very next room. That kid can sleep through anything, me on the other hand…. well I felt like all of my senses were being assaulted, and not in a good way.
I dragged myself back downstairs, got lunch sorted, fed us both, made small talk and by the time all that was done it was time for Eli to be up. For the second time today, I could have cried. I really struggle with being switched on for so long, I rely on that hour or so just to stop and I could have done with it today to let my brain settle a bit… but it wasn’t to be. The worst of it was, Eli didn’t even want to get fucking up when I went to get him; he wanted to stay in bed and started slapping my hands away as I was trying to get him up out of bed. I know how you feel you little arsehole, I could have slapped you this morning when I didn’t want to get out of bed either, but no, I sucked it up because I knew if I didn’t you’d rip your piss riddled nappy off and shit somewhere. Your power is frightening you angry unreasonable little fucking goblin.
I knew when he woke up that I wasn’t going to get away with an afternoon in the house, what I want is irrelevant on parenting days. He wanted out and I couldn’t blame him, it brightening up and he’d been nowhere interesting at all today bar in the car and to DIY shops. So I sat and worked out the logistics – I couldn’t walk too far because my legs are arseholes and I have all the zing of a 4 day old used tea bag so there would be no walk but I could park across from the wee park, and sit on a bench while he went tonto at the play park bit. Low impact, outside, no danger of impending doom. Sorted.
On the whole it worked alright to be fair, but I need the wee man to work out how to get on the swings and push himself before I can join the other mums who couldn’t be arsed to be there on their special bench. They weren’t taking pictures. In fact, they probably had no idea what the fuck their kids were up to …. but they knew what fat Shirley had for her lunch thankfully, she posted a pic on Facebook.
Sad that innit? I do wonder if it upsets me so much because I miss a lot of outside time with Eli? I dunno, but even if I was more able I’d still be wondering why people were choosing social media (which is just news about people you barely know, or know too well) over watching their kids have fun – its the best bit about being a parent. The rest of it can be a bit shite if I’m honest, so if you’re choosing to miss the good bits you’re going to hate parenting and no amount of Shirley’s fakeaway pictures are going to make it better. I’m not saying we should all be doting on our kids ALL THE TIME by the way, that would be creepy and mental. I often take virtual breaks from Eli but not when we’re out specifically doing a thing, more when we’re at home and he’s pottering about doing nothing in particular.
Anyway, we were only there for half an hour before I bribed him into leaving by promising cake when we got home; I had no choice, I was struggling to get him in and out the swings because I couldn’t physically lift him. I’m not sure I even looked like a mum at that point, probably more like I’d borrowed him from a proper parent and was all cack handed and clueless. I got us home, picked up the painter and went via ScrewfuckingFix again to swap the special tape, which as it happens was £21 cheaper…. hiiii hoooo silver living! I drove him home, dropped in on my folks (they live just round the corner) for 10 minutes and FINALLY it was time to go home…. and make dinner. This day is one unrelenting bag of “fuck you” – thank fuck for my InstantPot, 10 minutes and we had a really tasty pasta sauce and some cooked pasta.
Now, I don’t need you to tell me that I’ve done too much. I know I have. Everything is screaming out in pain, I have no energy to move and I’m starting to shut down, I can feel it. It’s a fucking marvel I’ve been able to write at all, which means it’s a slow burn and I’ll pay in full tomorrow instead. Fine by me; Eli is in nursery and the painter has everything he needs and the ONLY thing I need to do is pick him up and then go and order a carpet. Easy. I can do that… I hope. I might just tape bin bags together instead. Easier innit?
For now though, I’ve fucked people so I’m off.
- Solo parenting for the week – DONE
- The bedroom has been started! Walls prepared(they were pretty fucked) and lined and should be painted either tomorrow or Thursday, I am fucking delighted
- Eli napped and actually fell asleep cuddling into me today which I needed
- I didn’t die
- I have done far too much, and I’m already feeling it… I know it’s only going to get worse and I’ve no idea how long I’ll take to bounce back. It’s getting longer and longer every time now
- Eli has been a challenge
- I really wanted to fuck off my diet today and just eat what was convenient…. the fact I didn’t should be a highlight I guess but the fact I felt like this through exasperation isn’t good news. Normally I choose to treat myself rather than feeling like it isn’t worth making the effort; it absolutely is, I just needed a word with myself. Which I had.
- What’s on the menu Mellars?
- Breakfast – a yoghurt… last of the big spenders innit but I wonder if I’ve been having too much fruit so I’m going to cut back on that this week and see if it makes a difference
- Lunch – Some home made barley, veg and gammon soup
- Dinner – pasta pepperonata with mushrooms and onions
Are you new round here?
If you’ve just stumbled across TryingToDoItAll and have no bastarding idea what’s going on you should probably go back and read a few blogs from the beginning. Don’t panic, I won’t ask you to read them all, but these few posts will help explain. Oh stop sighing, it’ll only take you a few minutes. Fucks sake.
- Well you’re here, so you may as well get comfy
- Can’t stop M.E. now…. ahmm having such a good time, ahmm tickling your balllssss!
- When are the grown ups coming?
- Major surgery…again?
- You’ve got to be kidding M.E.?
#mecfs #meawarenessuk #mewarrior #silentillness #swearymum