I’m still in bed.  It’s my turn for first lie in as we split the day yet despite, as always, being knackered I’m not actually sleeping.  Sometimes it’s just nice to have space. To be alone. To not have to move or speak. So I’ve spent it navel gazing, procrastinating and listening to hubz and the kids argue.  A lot.

They’ve currently gone to the shops and I’m praying for bacon.

Despite the obvious high of the scan it’s been a funny old week really. 

The house is still in even more disarray then usual as the changing of the rooms which should have taken less than a week still hasn’t been completed. It stalled when we all became ill and hubz hasn’t picked it up again.  It doesn’t appear to bother him.  At all. If I mention it be will however go bezerk. I haven’t the mental energy to handle another of his tantrums so I sit and simmer over it instead.  Needless to say even a casual enquiry into its possible completion will turn into the usual of him listing all 1001 ways in which i’m useless, lazy,annoying and crap instead whilst reiterating how he does everything around the house (fair do’s be does indeed do 70% of housework) So yes, I’m just going to shut up.  If I dare  verbally bite back he will get louder, swear more and storm out.

He could do some this afternoon yet I can guarantee when I get up he will go to bed.  I still can’t fathom why a virile and healthy 38yr old man needs so many naps to equal his pregnant wife who has M.E but there you go.  The world is full of mysteries.

He’s been in a funny old mood these past few days.  I’ve learned to just leave him to it other then the casual mention of concern and the discreet checking his meds have been taken.

Hopefully next week will be better than the last which involved fucking bastard nits again. I hate the buggers. I’m sick of combing through every inch of the daughters hair.  It’s evident there’s a  selfish prick of a parent who doesn’t bother which means the rest of us have to do it all the time.  Because of them. Bastards.

Then there was Friday.  Hubz was convinced it was yet another none uniform day and this weeks payment was to take in a decorated egg which we predictably left till the last minute.  In a combined 71 years of life neither of us have ever decorated an egg. Google told us we need food colouring. Oops. Fail on that count.

We digged three ancient bottles of kids paint out of the cupboard and left them too it. The finished articles looked like preschooler vomit.

Fast forward to the morning when the kids sans  uniform were taken to school by hubz only to find nobody else had a bloody painted egg with them. It gets worse, it didn’t appear to be none uniform day either.  Hubz ended up telling the teachers the washing machine had broke with the  uniforms stuck in it to avoid looking like a total berk!

So it’s now the weekend.  As usual there’s no money to go anywhere or do anything and the weather is crap. The children wallow in various states of play and boredom  interspersed with bouts of trying to kill each other.   Joy.   As you can imagine I’m ecstatic over the inpending Easter holidays.  Two whole weeks of us all at home. 

Can you feel my joy?  Can you?  Nope.  Me neither.


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