It'a Thursday. Thursday is such a nothing day. It's says: "hello, hola, I'm a legitimate day of the week, but I've got no purpose. Want to get to Friday? Want to get to Saturday? You have to go through me first!"
I am tired, and crabby, and my tummy is upset. I can't even write a eeny weeny blog post without people whinging, crying, arguing or needing to go to the bathroom. I feel slightly mental.
It's probably a few things, lets unpack them:
It's raining. Rain means running streams of water down my pot-holed gravel driveway. Rain means running awkwardly with bag and child to school, glasses rendered useless with damp and steam. Rain means dark. Rain means grumpy indoor children, restless and bitey.
I go to bed too late. Who doesn't? The evening is my special time, my husband time, my craft time, my housework time, my shower time, my movies&television time. I can't seem to cut it short. There are too few hours in the evening.
My Tummy is Confused:
Probably TMI for y'all, but I'm bloated and crabby and sore. I don't eat properly. I'm not wanting to lose weight, only losers lose stuff right?
But I want to maintain my weight, for reasons I can not divulge. I do NOT want to gain 30 kgs in a year from laziness, exhaustion and rain. But I find it hard to find time to eat properly. I usually prepare my kids food first, they are the most vocal eaters and thus must be served LAST WEEK! So I prepare their meals, always just about 10 minutes too late, and put it on the table, and then make my own. By the time I have made mine, they have wolfed theirs down, and are demanding more. My food is usually devoured.
For example, this afternoon, I started feeling hungry at about 2.30, after a midday lunch. Tough titties, for there was a dirty nappy to change and a school girl to pick up by 3. We got home at 3.15, bags and children thrown through the door which was slammed against the foul weather. Two cats came up and said feed me now otherwise we will forever wrap around your ankles and gently bite your knees until you fall over and die. I fed them, while the children hollered for afternoon tea. One of the dear darling felines eats in the kitchen, so I can't actually make anyone else food unless she is content(NB Our kitchen is the size of a small walk-in wardrobe). Afternoon tea will be fruit muffins with peanut butter. I defrost one, saw it in half, whack it in the toaster, and start defrosting another. Schoolchild says in a whingy voice "mummy I'm STILL hungry and you STILL haven't fed me". I snap at her IT"S IN THE TOASTER! Preschool child: "mummy TOAST!" This time I suffice with a glare. Muffin two has been defrosted and sawn in half, muffin one pops and muffin two goes in. Muffin one is spread with butter and peanut butter. WHY DOES THE BUTTER KEEP ON HARDENING I HAVE TO WARM IT EVERY FIVE MINUTES... Muffin one is delivered. Muffin two pops, and is spread. Muffin two delivered, I start defrosting and carving a muffin for me. My Muffin goes in the toaster, and then pops. Quiet whinge from living room "I'm still very very hungry muuuuuumy!" FINE! My muffin is spread appropriately and delivered. I stick the FOURTH muffin in the microwave just as preschooler turns up, holding out his plate and saying in his cutest voice "finished mummy? finished?" Finished means I'm still hungry but my plate is now empty. Muffin four is toasted, spread and delivered to said preschooler. Muffin FIVE goes into the microwave, by now my hands are shaking and I am actually feeling dizzy from hunger. Into the toaster, pops and is in the middle of butter spreading, when Schoolchild demands help from the bathroom. She is, quite literally, sunk. I pull her folded body out of the toilet and wipe her, as she whispers to me "mummy I'm so so hungry and I heard the toaster pop..." Now for the final triumph of bad mummying. I lose it. I totally and utterly lose it. YOU HAVE EATEN SO MUCH THIS AFTERNOON AND I HAVEN'T EATEN ANYTHING AND I AM FEELING SICK WITH HUNGER AND THAT IS MY MUFFIN! I stop, breathless and guilt-ridden at my ogre-ish outbreak, and look up at her face. She meets my eyes, blinks once or twice, and then asks sweetly "Have you wiped my bottom?"
4.45. I eat my gosh-darned muffin. It isn't terrible but it's not healthy either. The gosh-darned 4.45 muffin means that at normal dinner time, when I am powering through with the kids, I will not feel hungry. I won't even feel hungry when Josh gets home at 7, or after the kids have gone to bed. One of us will eventually make something quick, and at about 8.30, absolutely starving, I will eat too much and then have Naughty Food after.
And I wonder why my tummy hurts....