Is it bedtime yet?

Today I have shouted. A lot. And loudly. And I’ve cried.

I have just had one of those days where it all seems unmanagable and overwhelming and out of control.

My buttons have been pushed, check my patience has been tested and I’ve not responded in the best of ways.

The children haven’t had their listening ears on, nor has their OCD cleaning and tidying gene which I’d hoped they had inherited from me come to the fore yet.

My ironing pile is gargantun in proportions. My kitchen floor has been swept 5 times and still has pink playdough dots all over it.  As does the livingroom carpet. Which is cream.

I’m having a bad hair day.  My right eyebrow looks curly.  My socks have holes in. Actually, scrap that. They aren’t even my socks. They belong to a man with size 11 feet, which means they are baggy at both the toes and the heels on my ickle size 3’s.

I burnt my tongue on my lunch and I stood on the plug of the hoover.

I fought with the ironing board. Ironed three things, then fought with the ironing board again.

I woke Little Monster Blue from his afternoon nap to get to a family fun day only to find it was bursting at the seams with families and there was little fun to be had.  A consolation face paint did the trick for Little Princess Pink.  A carton of apple juice sweetened Little Monster Blue.

I still have mascara smeared all over my cheeks from my earlier tantrum, and I probably should have sat on the naughty step (with a good book) for 33 minutes (a minute per year old in this house)

So today, I’m telling it like it is.  Sunday Sucked.  I did not like it and strangely, I’m rather looking forward to Monday.

Is it bedtime yet?




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