Every morning I have to do it, and every morning it's exactly the same. Know that film, Groundhog Day?
I know how late/early we are every morning by the people who are on the pavement and precisely where they are. Scooter crew at the crescent? Early. Man with large dog at the crescent? Average time, can still dawdle. Lady with ridiculous high heeled shoes tottering around the crescent? Late.
It''s depressing. It's beyond depressing.
It's like these folk are all playing out some kind of staged show just for me every morning. Like The Truman Show.
And worse? I'm so socially awkward and never talk to any of these people. They have built up their own cliques over time, because they have a routine. They see each other at he same time every day. Me? I'm all 'free and easy' and like to mix it up a little, which means once again, I am the single, alone girl in the playground.
One chocolate biscuit
2.We are so beyond the realms of skint, broke, poorness that I can't even fathom it.
I know this isn't the kind of thing you should speak about in public, but it's so real that it seems very unreal. To the point that getting a pound back in change from Thomas's dinner money means the difference between being able to pay for his gymnastics class. It's not always been this tough and it's not always going to be this tough, but at the moment, it is pressing down on me so hard that I am screaming inwardly from the minute I wake up in the morning.
And it wouldn't be so bad if it was just Dave and I - we understand cutting back and not having. But the kids are old enough to be hit by marketing.
And just now, it's all about the holiday, the outdoor toys, the Skylanders and the Lego.
Every word that comes out of Tom or Ethan's mouths just now starts with an 'H' and ends in 'Oliday'.
I desperately want to take them on holiday, but at the moment, it's looking beyond unlikely. For the next two years at least.
And this year we have 7 whole weeks of 'why can't we just go on a holiday, mummy?'
I'm gutted - we won't even manage a cheap and cheerful one this year.
Two bits of buttered toast. And a chocolate biscuit.
3. I haven't had time to myself for over 5 weeks.
I love my kids. I love them to the ends of the earth, but man am I tired.
I cherish my time with them, I cherish the weekends we have together and I love their little faces so much I could squeeze them, but wow, do I really need some 'me' time.
I can't remember the last time I completed a task in its entirety, ate a square meal without someone pinching something or watched an adult t.v programme.
Babysitters are something we talk about as in existing in the annals of time, and Dave and I just booked a holiday day off work so we could have a conversation together without being interrupted by information on the latest Skylander swap force character or having to find the next Peppa pig epsiode on Netflix.
You know what I'm doing this afternoon in that sacred hour after Ethan goes to nursery and Tom returns from school? Having a nap. It's knackering having to stay so alert to what the hell they are up to all the time. Where do they get their energy from? It's certainly not from sleeping in their own beds all night!
One bar of chocolate and a Diet Coke for caffeine
4.A huge change is coming and I don't think I'll be ready for it
I am coming to realise that when Ethan goes to school next year, and in order to get out of the funk I am currently in with the rest of this stuff, I am actually going to have to further my career. And it means doing something scary and professional and time-consuming. And it's probably going to be Teacher Training. And while my intellect is literally bursting at the seams with excitement, I am terrified of the consequences that studying and learning for said career will do to our finances and our family. It's one of those things that will be more than worth it in the long run, but I am having flashes of doubt in my ability to cope with a crazy demanding job on top of my already-crazy life.
I'm also terrified that I'm making a huge mistake. What if I hate it? What if I'm giving up something I love for something I'll hate? What if I'm not good enough? I have a while until it's a real issue and to commit properly, but the very fact that I'm ultimately not able to continue in my current job and progress there due to funding and policy is beyond gutting. I'm still working through it. Don't hold your breath, things might not pan out that way yet. I am however studying and trying to gain experience, so I must be more serious about it than I think I am.
Four chocolate biscuits, three bags of crisps with dip and half a bottle of wine, two pints of beer, ten tequilas and a shot of sambuca
5. The silly little things
I don't have a summer jacket. My washing pile is too high. I need to clear out the fridge. My car needs suspension brushes. The dog is old. I can't find my Nectar card so I keep missing out on all the points. There may or may not be a wasps nest upstairs, but there are more dead wasps than there should be.
Ethan wants to watch Christmas stuff all the time. My back really hurts and I should see a doctor, but I keep thinking it will be okay. I keep tripping over the bag of compost in the kitchen. The boys need shoes again. I think we should probably change doctor practice because we moved.
All the stupid little things that add up to make you feel poo.
Another chocolate biscuit and a hunk of cheese
There goes the diet.