12 Jul 2017

Hard

What's that song? That saying?  Nobody said life would be easy, but nobody said it'd be this fricking hard either...  have I got that right?  I can't remember.  My brain is addled from lack of sleep, which is not children related for once, but stress induced insomnia.  

I love insomnia. 

Especially stress induced insomnia.  It's awesome.  I feel so well rested and able to face any challenges that life throws at me.... 

Due to circumstances beyond our control, we are now a one income family. 

My income. 

I only work 24 hours a week so there is not much income INCOMING... see what I did there?  

In fact our bills exceed my income so we are officially up shits creek. 

I have cried so many tears in the last three weeks that I've had to increase my water consumption so I don't get dehydrated. 

I fake smile so much that I can't remember how to smile properly and my face hurts.  

When people ask me how I am, I brightly say 'great' through gritted teeth and move on, because they don't really care anyway. 

It's getting really hard to 'be positive' and 'look on the brightside' when bananas are almost $4 a kg and my kids eat 4 kg a week and people complain to me about how expensive the cost of living is these days as they're sipping their $5.50 takeaway latte and I'm nodding along thinking how the fuck am I going to afford to buy food next week? That latte they're drinking is 1.25kg of bananas!  

To make matters worse, or better, I finally have a date for my surgery.  It's the week after next.  Hooray you say, and hooray I say but fuck!  Could the timing be any bloody worse?!    

On one hand, I really need Juffin to be home to look after me so him not working at the moment is a bit great, but on the other, I really need him to find work so we're not destitute and starving! Can you say catch 22?  Truth be told, in my current state, I could serve to starve for a few days, but my kids, my kids don't need to starve at all.  They need their bananas.  For the love of bananas! 

Surgery also requires recovery time. I really need to take the time and heal properly after this surgery. Which means no kid wrangling, washing, driving etc... I literally just have to lay around which is fine for a day or two but when you have small children, supremely difficult but I have never had proper recovery time after any of my multiple operations and I don't want to have a repeat of this shithouse experience.  

On top of all this drama we've been battling snot monster Molly who has started throwing tantrums already and koalas Juffin 24/7 and a defiant, ignorant Mushroom who won't do as he's told or listen to a damn word either of us say.  To counteract said ignorance, I yell, A lot and it seems to fall on even deafer ears and then I get super mad and my head almost explodes.  I must sound like a total psychopath to my neighbours.  Especially when I'm shouting, "get your fingers out of your bum it's not for playing!" at the top of my lungs. Really feeling like a stellar parent when that needs to be said more than one f-ing time.     

This week I've been plagued with the beginnings of a bad cold and I'm thoroughly sick to death of the shitshow that is my life.  My patience has worn so thin that you can actually see through it.  It's almost non-existent.  I will snap at the tiniest thing.  

So please universe. I would actually just really appreciate it if we could just get a break from the bad juju for a little while... say 45 years? That would be fantastic.  

We still have coffee, and that mountain of washing has been folded and put away.  So there.  




5 Jun 2017

36

I'm not a nice person.

Or a very good friend.

I spend a lot of time quietly despising myself for being jealous of my friend's successes.

Don't get me wrong, I know that they worked hard to get where they are, they sacrificed for their success, they toughed it out.

I just can't seem to get over the feeling that I'm woefully inadequate compared to pretty much everyone I know.

This is both depressing, and fucking pathetic.

I spent the better part of last week crying because a) I got my period and that is total and utter shit these days, b) with my period comes hormonal almost migraines which render me angry and drained, and c) I got the email from my online college telling me that time I had to complete my course had expired, and d) I had a birthday coming up and who can be excited about being one year older when they've achieved nothing.

I'm thoroughly sick of myself.

I hate feeling like this and I hate comparing myself to everyone else.

I also hate that I can't seem to do anything about it.

I don't honestly know how to move forward.

I think I've literally felt like this my entire adult life and that's awful.

I spend a lot of time wishing for things to be different but not actually doing anything about it.

It's exhausting.

Maybe I read too many books when I was a kid. My life is certainly not as exciting as Anne Shirley's or Trixie Belden's.  Disney deserves a mention too while we're at it...  And Ann M. Martin circa Babysitters Club fame!

I know that I have absolutely nothing to complain about, I have a great job, friends, supportive family, loving partner, healthy kids, roof over my head... what's wrong with me?!  I'm 36.  I had a fabulous birthday, I was feeling really good and then today, it hit me again.  I just keep thinking that there has to be more... but is there?  Is there more?  Do I need professional help?  How can I break this cycle of self loathing and ineptitude? I feel like I'm letting my family down because I'm constantly thinking that we're doing it wrong.  But we're not... are we?  This is just life right?  It doesn't have to be extraordinary...

First world problems?  Am I right?


36
I don't know what the point of this post is.

Or why I have a blog at all really.

I guess it just makes me feel better to write it all down and overshare on the internet.  Insert grimace face emjoi here.


22 May 2017

Monday Morning

I woke up at 5. That's not a great start.  My alarm goes off at 6.  Which means you pee, and then try to get back to sleep only to doze for what feels like 3 seconds and then the alarm goes off.

I could have easily stayed in bed.

I shower, put coffee on, put make-up on and then I go and get Molly.  This is when it gets fun...

Somewhere between 6.30 and 7.25 my household enters a void of time suckage where literally nothing is achieved and the yelling starts.  I'm yelling, Mushroom's yelling, Molly's yelling.  Juffin's taking his sweet arse time doing his hair or whatever and yelling at Molly to get out of the wet shower stall. Of course I have a full face of make up on and a nightie, because, children.

Between 7.25 and 7.32 there is actual progress and we usually manage to get out the door, fully clothed, children fed, and 15000 bags in tow.

I generally run back because I've forgotten important things like breast pump or coffee.

Today the Mushroom decided to drag his backpack out the door, despite me telling him repeatedly to stop dragging his backpack, and the screen door slammed back on his foot and grazed his heel.

Notice how I used the word grazed.

Because it was a graze.

Mushroom thought his foot had been removed.

Cue hysterical screaming and over the top drama with full body shaking, tears and screaming at high pitch.

At 7.30 in the morning.

And the oscar goes to.....

I am the mean Mummy who ACTUALLY doesn't have time for that bullshit.

Like no time.  We're already late, We're now on the wrong side of 7.35 and time is moving forward at a rapid rate.

I give him a cuddle, make sure there's no blood and then carry on.

Obviously I have not given him enough attention because it's ongoing for OVER 10 MINUTES.

Juffin is cuddling him, blah blah blah.  I tell him to stop it and tell Mushroom to cut it out.  I mean honestly, I'm a bitch.  That much is clear.

By the time I get to daycare drop off it's already 7.50.  I'm so late for work. I send a message saying that I'll be 15 minutes late, because, again, children.

I carry the 15000 bags and the smallest child to the door.  Mushroom is mucking about with his bag and jumper (it's 22c and apparently that warrants wearing a jumper, don't even get me started) Molly smells suspiciously like poo.

I am already late so we do the check in thing and then I change her bum myself.  Because I feel like it's weird to watch someone else change your child's bum.  Unless it's their other parent.

Kiss, cuddle, bye bye.  Over to the pre-prep room. lunch sorted, bag in locker, drink bottle out, hat on, sign the book, walk over to toddler room.. kiss kiss cuddle cuddle, bye bye...

I race back to the car and slump into the drivers seat.  It's 8.04.

Can I go home now?!

Should have known it was going to be bad when this was how we started