Toddlers, Carpets and not faking it.

Tuesday the 19th of June 2018

Well bugger me backwards and call me Phyllis, I’ve made it back again. That’s two days on the trot people – I’ll soon be kicking JK Rowling in the arse as I’m passing her by. Harry Potter my fucking arse, get a real job.

So, it’s Tuesday, the day after my weigh in day splurge which ended with a magnificent crescendo of rhubarb pie and custard; of which I ate a sparrows portion because I was full from pizza (Marks and Spencers kind, cos I’m posh… and also because I like a light base and not a fucktonne of cheese). I am utterly shit at binge eating these days and I’m grateful because I daresay I could undo my entire weeks work in one sitting if I wasn’t. As it is, the day as a whole is more relaxed but my portions remain incredibly sensible; a wee bit of what you fancy does you good, a bit big of what you fancy is gluttony and no one likes to be a greedy bastard. Unless it crisps, all bets are off with crisps (or corn/maize based snacks as a whole) because they’re basically air and taters and don’t count. No, not even when you deep fry them. Guilt free – fill your boots.

Tuesday, as you know, because I’m a character of impeccable habit is also the day I go through to see my folks in the morning. We pretend we’re visiting to say hello but in reality they’re helping me with Eli and we’re all under no illusions it’s to give me a break.  I was pleased of it this morning because hes been going at a hundred miles an hour since he woke up just before 6. I’ve no idea why and when I tried to ask him his answer was “a monkey running in the forest” so … well I’m not sure where that leaves us to be fair. He had a great time as always when we were there though and was playing with his best pal, his grandad, for the most part. They’re two peas in a pod those two. They have the same temper, humour, fun loving cheeky nature mixed with the exact same amount arseholery; you can go through a rainbow of moods in a day. My dad gets away with far more with Eli than we do because they’re so similar. In fact if I did half of what my dad does to wind him up, it would land in tears, probably mine as he twatted me in the chops. So they played away but we couldn’t stay as long as normal because I needed to get back here for my telephone appointment with occupational health therapist from work.

I know people normally dread these things and I can’t say I was looking forward to it but it went fine. The OH was really understanding and could tell I was struggling to converse I think (this morning wasn’t great for me stumbling with my words). We went through my physical limitations, what drugs I’m on and what steps I’ve taken to help myself and she agreed I was doing as much as I could to get better and there was nothing really the company could offer to help (SHOCKER). It was really important to hear that to be honest; I wasn’t sure when we first starting speaking that I needed her validation but actually it was a relief. See, I always worry people think I’m taking the piss by not being at work. If they were with me day to day they’d not think that because they’d be able to see how I fare, but over the phone I can sometimes sound OK, and well… I write a blog, so I can’t be that ill can I? It’s a tricky thing to balance; I have no “I’m poorly” voice, I have no interest in milking sympathy and this blog is the ONLY place you’ll generally get a very candid view of what’s going on (when I don’t skirt over it) because…. I’m really fucking embarrassed by it all. I know that’s daft but I think it’s a fairly common feeling for anyone who isn’t a shining beacon of health; I spend a lot of time wishing people would understand and just as much time trying to hide it. Madness. Anyway, she agreed there was little chance of being able to function at the moment and also that the timeline for getting better was unknown. She offered some advice for when I am ready to return around a phased return and micro breaks but ultimately she said I should just focus on getting better – which I am allllllllllllll over. I’m desperate to get back and I made that very clear; this version of life isn’t the one I enjoy. I want to feel useful and productive again, and I’ve set myself a deadline of August to try and get back to work. If I’m not better I guess I need to understand how best to fit my job around my current capability; it’s a Mohammed and the mountain kind of analogy I think. Who knows. August might come and I might be worse… M.E. is a bit of a shit stirrer like that.

This afty was a relaxed state of affairs –  I had a couple of local friends round with their wee ones. We share a similar love of Scandi clothes and often ran into each other on the Facebook pages so it was time to get the brightly clad kids together and see if they could destroy some cake. It’s ideal for me that, I get to stay in the comfort of my own home, being able to sit down, while their kids entertain mine. It was a right nice afternoon but Eli was being a bit odd. He’s generally fine with other kids in his space but like I said earlier he’s been wired today and I’m not sure why, so as a result he was a bit of a whirling dervish and spent a lot of time either whining or being told off. He wouldn’t sit and concentrate on anything which really isn’t like him and meant he missed having a snack completely. He eats lunch around 11 so it’s along wait till 5 for his dinner and he’d gone past wanting anything small.  “He’d eat if he was hungry” I hear you chant, no actually, he wouldn’t, primarily because he’s a contrary little arsehole that ONLY eats when he is content. If anything isn’t quite right he doesn’t eat, then he gets hangry and then it all goes to shit, and that’s kind of what happened. He had an epic melt down as I was tidying up when everyone left – he was fucking fuming with himself for not eating his cake, I could tell. Well kiddo, that should teach you a bit of a valuable lesson that; don’t be a bell end. Some pasta sorted him out but he was still mental when he went upstairs to bed so I’ve no idea how Christiaan is going to get on with bed time.

In amongst the chaos of three toddlers the carpet fitters arrived to sort the bedroom carpet out. They were supposed to call to confirm what time they’d land down but clearly couldn’t be arsed – lovely. So after they moaning about the carpet up the stairs (what the actual fuck) the eldest of the two came down the stairs sighing heavily and declaring dramatically “you have a problem”. Oh for fucks sake, what now? Giant termites dancing the Macarena in the wood? The radiator has exploded and jizzed out rancid badger piss? Donald Trump is having a dump in the middle of the room? No… “your measured your room wrong, the carpet is 50cm too short”, I almost shouted IS THAT FUCKING IT? DO YOU KNOW WHAT SHITE WE HAVE GOING ON? 50CM SHORT IS A WALK IN THE FUCKING PARK but I didn’t, I took a deep breath and asked the only logical question there was: “can you join in seamlessly?” and you know what he said? He said “yes”. Right then, whats the fucking problem? Just do that and piss off panicking me, and he did. He took great delight in trying to make me guess where the join was when he was finished, and I made no bones about the fact I couldn’t be arsed looking, if he was confident enough I couldn’t see it then so was I – there was no need for a game of eye spy.

So, after the girls had left, and the carpet fitter had left Christiaan got hard to work getting the bed put back together, except the bed slats and their shitey badly designed holders were not playing ball. It needed an expert. I got my shit together and went up to save the day….. or put wood in plastic holders, whichever, anyway it was sorted in amongst Eli bouncing off the fucking walls, and floor, and bed, and mattress and anything else he could get his hands on. The sooner that kids asleep the quieter this world will be; I can’t bastard wait. Eventually we got everything back where it should be and of course, OF COURSE, I am absolutely fucked. It’s been a really busy day for me, yes even though I’ve spent about 95% of it on my arse. I’ve needed to be switched on and able to talk which is a real challenge normally but given the last week or so is a pretty epic ask and I know I’m not long until I need to sleep. Ideally I wanted to sleep at lunch time but decided that I didn’t want to seem like I was off my head when the girls came round so kept myself ticking over. I guess it could seem like a mistake in the grand scheme of things – I know I’ll pay for it tomorrow but then I don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow, Eli is in nursery and the car is being picked up in the morning to get taken to the garage to sort a few bits, so it’s no biggy. Tomorrow I shall sleep but tonight I plan to sit and zone out because, I am home alone. Well apart from the tiny tit upstairs in his bed that is.

Our Christiaan is off on a man-date (no not a mandate) to the cinema with one of my brothers and his friend to see the latest sci-fi shite. Not my bag at all, I’d rather eat my own toenails. I’m chuffed he’s going out though, the last few years have been pretty consuming for him and I always worry he feels isolated to just our four walls. He’s got a really close circle of friends down in Chesterfield where he used to live (before I came into his life and fucked shit up *grin*) but because I’m literally never out we never get the chance to socialise up here and as a result he’s stuck with me and laddo day in day out. He tells me he’s alright with that, but still, it’s good for him to be going out and having is geek-gasms over the sort of shite I would never watch. He’ll get to eat shite, have a brightly coloured chemical laden slushy and stay up late like a proper grown up. I on the other hand, will be in bed lovely and early as usual.


Here’s a wee pic of Seamus and Agnes to tide you over…..


The end


  • Highlights
    • Solo parenting for the week – done
    • Bedroom carpet – sorted
    • OH appointment – done and wasn’t as bad as I feared
    • A nice afternoon with two of the localites
    • Back on plan and did NOT eat doughnuts when the others did – win
  •  Lowlights
    • I’m utterly fucked and will now spend the rest of the week recovering
  • What’s on the menu Mellars? Back on it….
    • Breakfast –  A yoghurt
    • Lunch – Crustless fake quiche and salad – epic
    • Dinner  – Chicken curry off of the instant pot but I made it too spicy

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.

  1. Well you’re here, so you may as well get comfy
  2. Can’t stop M.E. now…. ahmm having such a good time, ahmm tickling your balllssss!
  3. When are the grown ups coming?
  4. Major surgery…again?
  5. You’ve got to be kidding M.E.?

#mecfs #meawarenessuk #mewarrior #silentillness #swearymum #meblogging


ME Blogger extraordinaire… not really


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