Half term, a mother’s moment of sanity. Monday of half-term means I get to indulge in sleeping until the sun is actually risen. But, it doesn’t. It heralds the one day when all three children wake up singing and dancing straight out The Chorus Line at sparrow’s fart. This does not make for a happy Monday Mummy.
Neither did small girl aged 5’s not so subtle emotional manipulation.
Small girl aged 5: “You don’t love me. You always leave.”
Mummy: “Angel, I do love you, but I have to go to work.’
Small girl aged 5: “No you don’t. You just don’t want to be with me!”
Score one for small girl aged 5. Mummy leaves house close to tears feeling like very very Bad Mummy.
GAH! Do not forget – birthday ring on Wednesday must provide helium balloons (from where?) and birthday cake (need to order from Fournos? Do they do that? Ah, or home industry shop in the Mall.) Please notice I have decided to ignore the Invisible Mommy and buy the cake instead of staying up late on Tuesday. This is assuming I remember to order a cake in time.
Weekend three of the Great Wendy House Construction. Those Extreme Home Makeover people make it look way too easy. My back is aching and my hair is stuck together with Lollipop Pink paint and clear varnish (I had to cut off great hanks of it this morning and now resemble a long haired sheep with mange.) Also, the paint stripper seems to have given me a partial facial peel. On the bright side we now have one perfectly varnished floor, a refurbished pink toy box and the skeleton of the structure. The children have largely lost interest and are taking refuge in World of Warcraft.
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