self medicating with wine and toffifee :0(
Not a happy blog today peeps - more disharmony from Harry this morning, and surprise suprise its been the same argument again, yes you can get in bed with us, NO you cant bring your toy box with you!, this more he kicked off as Stew was facing him and having the audacity to breathe in H's general direction!
So due to general grumpyness, the sort even a bacon buttie can fix! I decided to take H out of the equation ( I didnt put a contract out on him or anything!) killing 2 birds with one stone ( I have no psychopathic tendencies honest gov!) I thought I would get some work done with out the distraction of being in the house and my growing facebook/twitter obsession. So leaving Grumpy Stew to go fora walk, a paper and a bit of fresh air with snotty Pheebz, I decided to brave The Zone again - so rucksack packed and 2 sprogs in tow, we set off.
Travelling towards Kellet, we passed the Televison transmitter - cue my darling Abigail asking me if telly's were invented when I was little ( just how old does the little bag think i am!!) I explained that yes there was but Grandad Peter didnt have a telly when he was little, he used to listen to the radio and go to the cinema. the 1950's getting mixed up with the 1970's yep, i can cope with that ( as much as I love Ab's she REALLY doesnt know when to shhhhhh). Mummmmmmieeeeeeeeee, Yes Abbie, Where hospitals clean or dirty when you where little? cos Florence nightingale made sure they were all cleaned and she died when she was 90 in 1870 - GEEEEEEZZZZZZZZZ Abbie make your mum feel young and spritely why dontcha!!!!
On arrival at the zone it appearred to be fairly yummy free, it was however crammed with biddys, again no seat, so I plonked myself on a bench, ordered a current teacake and a pot of tea and set about researching and writing the essay which is rapidly becoming the millstone round my neck! There must be a paradox somewhere that states that at a soft play emporium biddys and yummy's can not co-exist in the same time and space as once the biddys left the yummys flooded in. I managed to bag a table inbetween the mass migrations so it was all good.
I thought with it being the last day of the hellidays - I would treat the kids to a McD's and all was well there too.
Once we got home, and the McD's was duly scoffed, the horns sprouted and screaming, fighting and trashing started, so we exited the house and all was calm till we got to my mums and it all started again, I have never had to shout and threaten as much in my life :0(
Stew and I are shattered, I know they say that special kids get special parents, but why cant the special parents get a manual?? not a step by step instruction manual but a few hints here and there wouldnt go amiss
No comments:
Post a Comment