Saturday, May 28, 2011

One of my children asked what I was eating and I replied “misery and ashes”. I was actually eating an anzac biscuit, but I was feeling depressed.

It’s St Johns Wort time of the month again, and my hormones are being evil.  I’m trying to find nice, joyful and interesting pictures to take for my Project 365, but everything I take pictures of makes me sad.

My oldest daughter’s first disco was supposed to be exciting, but she lost her glow-bangle and her jumper and when I went to collect her, instead of begging to stay longer she said sorrowfully “can we go home now?”

The cute piggies I went to feed this morning just looked like Death Row prisoners, waiting for the final day.  I almost had an anxiety attack going over to feed them too, which I think is another PMT symptom.  I had to go through 3 electric fence spring gates, and through a field that may or may not have contained a large bull, all of which fill me with dread at the best of times, but during Hormone Week make me feel like I am about to dive off a tall building with nothing but knicker elastic holding me up.

Spring gates scare me because I have been zapped going through them a number of times:

The girls are fighting, the baby just wants to get into the cupboards and Mapera tried to poke a hairpin into an electrical socket this morning.
 Is it wrong to tell your child calmly that if they do that, they will die?  She was a bit scared I think.  I don’t want her to develop some sort of socket-phobia, but I figured it was serious enough for Mummy’s Quiet Voice.

I would really love for someone to just drop in for a visit on Saturday afternoons, someone with lots to talk about, and maybe some chocolate…or cake…or diazepam.

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