Scorchio, camel cock pie and .. scenery

Sunday the 8th of July 2018

Blimey, it’s scorchio out there. Well for here anyway, it’s 26 degrees. All of the men in the village have been raped of their shirts and as a result I’ve seen enough pale blue legs and big flabby moobs to last me a life time. Scottish blokes are not meant for warmer climates – fact. There’s a lot of  young gingers uns up here and I’m always fearful for them when I see them with their tops off and no socks under their Adidas trainers. I know it’s going to end up with them looking like a very angry carrot and having blisters on their hooves. For what? Fuck all, that’s what, because after the sunburn fades they’ll return to their vampire like pallor and will probably have pus filled blisters for days as their only keepsake of “that time the sun was oot”. Don’t do it fellas, just stay covered up…. and get some flip flops, or at least put socks on with your trainers. And take your juice bottle out of your back pocket. You look a dick.

I’ll put my hands up (slowly obvs) – it’s too hot for me. So much so that I’m sat indoors. Primarily because I’m a miserable fucker and I was getting mardy with the bright sun burning my eyeballs and my skin, but also because Christiaan has just taken Eli out to give me a break and I can’t be arsed to get back up from the couch. Which I guess cements my original statement: I’m a miserable fucker.

I’m miserable because I’m in a mood today, I know I’m snapping and short tempered and I know that Christiaan is walking on eggshells which makes me feel evil because he doesn’t deserve it.  Eli couldn’t give a fuck, by the way,  he has all the bravado of a nearly 3 year old who rules the roost and has balls the size of Australia. Wee Fucker. I’ve tried really hard to draw myself out of it several times today; it’s not fair on anyone, and I hate it but it’s sticking like glue for some reason so now I’m in a bad mood with my  bad fucking mood. THE WORLD IS A PIECE OF CAMEL COCK PIE. Eeeesht.

What’s caused it? No fucking idea, hormones maybe? The heat? The fact I’m knackered? A little from column A, B and C? Who the fuck knows, all I know is that I could easily scream and shout till my throat is red raw and I have an ASBO for my efforts. I think in truth I’m just a bit fucked off with the lay of the land; being knackered and hot is just adding to the self indulgence of the pity party. It’s nowt serious, whatever it is, and I’ll be back to normal as soon as we can get Eli n bed and I feel like I can deflate again.

Eli’s been a swine most of the day, which hasn’t helped but it’s not his fault I’m mardy, I woke up like this. There have been definite glimmers of charisma and humour but mostly he’s just tested my patience. We’ve been trying to get him more and more used to the idea of not pissing in a nappy. Now for most kids, I imagine this is a natural progression but Eli is… well, he’s idle. At the grand old age of 2 and three quarters I can already tell you that he’s capable of doing most things but he’s too fucking lazy to do them at anything other than his own motivational speed, which goes between slow and non-existent. He will HAPPILY sit in his own shite, and will DENY that he has shat until my nostrils are stinging and the air is cloudy. He tells me he NEVER needs a pee, which makes him, well a fucking liar to be honest because I change gallon heavy piss bags several times a day. Now all of this was OK when we could excuse him because “he was a baby” but… he’s almost 3, and although he’s not behind, that is later that a lot of kids train, so it’s about time we started. Below you’ll see some pics charting our progress:

 

First things first; don’t worry, I haven’t super glued a unicorn to his cock in a sort of penile answer to the vajazzle. It’s an emoji I whacked on the picture because while I’m happy to show pics of my kid and his arse to anyone who’s reading,  I’m not sure he’d forgive me when I was 18 if I flashed his knob everywhere before it had entered it’s prime. Anyway, you’ll see we have two different style potty’s, we also have a wee kiddys step ladder up to the normal toilet – a plethora of receptacles. You’ll also see he’s spent more time rolling around with his knob out than actually sat on ANY of the contraptions we’ve bought. He’s not happy about any of this, and especially not when he’s been told that the chocolate buttons that are in the fridge are ONLY to be presented to his darling little gob when he actually pisses in something that resembles a toilet. This, my friends, was the end of his tiny fucking universe. We have had tears, we have had lies “look mummy, I did a pee pee!” and we’ve had negotiation… “buttons first mummy” but what we have NOT had, is piss. Now, this is just the warm up, I reckon next weekend is when we’ll get to it; we’ll be mostly home preparing for the outlaws landing with us on Monday for a week and we can persevere throughout the weekend and into the week if we need to. If I know Eli though this will not be an easy battle.

A bit like nap time today and yesterday actually, which went tits up because – reasons, possibly biological. Or possibly because he’s a tinier, more stubborn, more playful version of his mother who will not fucking admit she needs to go and sleep. Who knows. Either way, when you’re in a bad mood already, the last thing you need is a nap dodging midget with a propensity to swing between happy as fucking larry and the world is nigh…. it’s exhausting. Even with the 11 hours sleep I got last night.

Yep 11 hours. I went to bed just before 9, we had awakenings from the two furry arseholes from 4 onwards, but they woke me only briefly. Eli got up just after 5, Christiaan ordered me back to bed and that’s where I stayed till just before 8. I could have slept a lot longer, a lot longer. I just feel annihilated today – the previous two nights I really struggled to sleep and I think it’s all just caught up at once or I’ve going further down the rabbit hole… I dunno, we’ll see what tomorrow brings. I guess the positive about it landing today is that Christiaan is around and I don’t need to deal with Eli on my own, the downside is, along with my bad temper, it’s kind of pissed all over family time today a bit.

We did get out this morning briefly though, it should have been Eli’s swimming class but it’s finished up for 4 weeks over the summer so we decided we’d take him to our local pool. Our local pool is tiny and located in the holiday caravan park just up the road from us; it’s always warm, rarely busy and has cracking views so it’s generally always a winner for parents with young kids. He was a bit confused by the change in venue, lack of structure and you could tell he was wondering where his wee pals were, but overall he did alright and Christiaan managed to get a lot of the “practise” moves from his class sorted for him so he kinda understood the script. I sat on the chairs at the side of the pool and enjoyed watching the traffic on the Forth sail back and forward; there are definitely worse ways to spend an hour on a Sunday morning.

 

Nice innit? I never fail to realise how lucky we are having all of this on our doorstep and I only hope that Eli realises that it’s a special place to live. There’s always something to look at. We’ve got the beach at one end of the road and then just a few streets back on the outskirts of the village there’s the loch which is a really beautiful place to spend a sunny day. It’s where we ended up for an hour yesterday actually, it was wee Jamie’s 2nd birthday party and his folks had hired out the Ecology Centre space up at the loch. It’s beautiful up there but I’ve not been in more than year because up until v recently Eli had a strong desire to try and jump in any form of water he found.  He seems to have realised  fairly recently that his last name’s not Deadpool and is a bit more reserved so it was a right treat to be there and watch him playing around and having fun – all the kids had a ball actually. The weather was perfect and the space was pretty epic for them all just to run wild. I could only stop for an hour because yesterday was a bit shit again but it got me out which I was really grateful for.

 

It’s been a v low key weekend for me all in actually; the hour at the loch yesterday and the hour at the pool today are as much as I’ve managed, the rest of the time I’ve been home, pretty much stationary for the most part.  I’m really struggling to get through the other side of this week and although normally I try and power on with “I’ll just do this” (see SC I do listen) this weekend has been a bit of a show stopper with more of a “not a fucking chance” type approach. I’ve just not been fit for it really and there’s a difference between pushing it because I’m frustrated and pushing it because I’m stupid and fancy a fortnights holiday with my duvet. The house is in a bit of disarray and I know that Christiaan would do the stuff that’s driving me mental if I asked but it’s bits that only females notice (skirtings etc) and there’s a reason for that; it’s peripheral unimportant shit –  but it’s stuff that I want to do, as in me, the woman of the house, because it’s more about me being ABLE to do it rather than it getting done… if that makes sense?

I reckon that’s one of the hardest battles about all this you know – giving up the freedom to “do”. When I was well I wouldn’t have needed to work up to running a jiffed up cloth round the bath (I refuse to call it cif, if you can’t say the letter J you’ve more problems that having a mucky bath, sort it out); I might have put it off because I couldn’t be arsed, but eventually I’d have just done it. Now, I need to schedule it as an activity and often my whole day can be planned around singular tasks like that; because when you have limited energy every fucking task is a sprint up a mountain in stiletto’s.

I’ve been pretty relaxed about the house work slipping a bit these last few months but on the run up to Christiaans folks landing I can feel myself starting to get itchy about it all. They’ll not notice any of it by the way, most people wouldn’t – it’s not like I’ve turned the house into a hovel, it’s just that I’m used to presenting a very polished version of my home to people, especially when they come to stay (which used to happen v regularly), so it feels a bit alien to me that the blemishes are on show. I’ll get a few bits done and I know I’ll feel better about it all but if I don’t I’ll just need to hope that I can get us all out in the garden for the majority of time!

Easier said that done at the minute mind, the new fucking parasol snapped a leg last night and in this blistering head that’s bad news. No one needs a semi-erect parasol in their lives at any time, but less so when its fucking roasting, so I’ve packed Christiaan off with it to see if we can get another, or our money back, or a credit note because, obviously, OBVIOUSLY I’ve lost the bastard receipt. Three times actually. I’ve lost the paper receipt and I’ve also managed to delete the electronic copy of my receipt they send me via email after I shop there. I’ve also managed to delete my trash in my mailbox. Three chances to get our money back and I’ve fucked every one of them. I called their helpline and there’s nothing they can do to track it down so I’m guessing it’ll be a credit note because looking online they have no more in stock to offer a replacement.The next fun and games will be trying to find another, reasonably priced, good quality one…. in the height of the hottest Scottish summer for years. Joy.

So tomorrow hails the beginning of solo parenting day 1, I’ve arranged to meet with D and the twins in the morning and then hopefully another friend in the afty (yet to be confirmed, if you’re reading this F… LOOK AT YOUR WHATSAPP) so I’m hoping that’ll be enough to keep Eli entertained. I don’t know if you remember me saying that one of the other times we met at soft play I ran into some old friends who don’t really know my situation and it lead to an embarrassing convo about how “well” I was looking; in other words, far less fucking fat and a bit more tanned than before. I remember trying to explain to you all what wading through that conversation was like but I’m not sure I explained it quite as well as @spoonie_village did on Instagram the other day, so have a read, and really let it sink in… and if I see you tomorrow out and about and you think I’m looking well, I’ll take your compliment and I’ll be chuffed to bits because, the reality is I feel like shite and you KNOW from reading that it’s been a really tough few months. So, next time you meet anyone with an illness, especially one that’s not in your face obvious, remember: it’s often not all looking like you’re at deaths door and bemoaning the pain and sadness you feel…. it’s called a silent illness for a reason, it does the worst of it’s damage away from the public domain.

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The End

  • Highlights
    • I’ve been out of the house for at least an hour on Saturday and Sunday
    • We live in a truly beautiful place and it serves me well to take time to be “out” in it
    • My jaw has FINALLY eased off completely – hooooray
  •  Lowlights
    • Welllllllllllllll it’s not all been Mary Poppins gets fornicated has it? 2 hours out in a whole weekend isn’t brilliant by anyones standards but it’s a poor show for me when I have Christiaan around to help
    • Eli has been an utter challenge at a time where I really needed him to be a bit less of a dick
    • The fucking parasol has snapped and as I feared it’s a credit note. Why they feel the need to be a bunch of twats about it I don’t know, they are the only people who fucking sell them, they’ve only appeared in stores for last few months and Christiaan showed them a bank statement proving purchase. Where did they think we got the fucking thing from? You need to take a leaf out of Simba’s book B & Q – you’ll go under without me supporting your business!
    • I’m in a bad mood.. with myself mostly
  • What’s on the menu Mellars?
    • Breakfast –  Negative
    • Lunch – 2 poached eggs, bacon, beans, mushrooms and a slice of wholemeal – well it is Sunday after all
    • Dinner  – Leftovers I think, Christiaan and I have either chicken curry or left over pork mince to use up. There’s enough for one portion of each so either way we’re winning because both are tasty tasty bastards

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

#ThisisME

ME Blogger extraordinaire… not really

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