Today is/has tested me. After going to bed at ridiculous early o’clock last night, I bounded out of bed like the Duracell bunny around 5:45am. I was determined to make the hubster breakfast. However, on investigating the contents of our fridge I realised we had no food nor coffee due to coming back yesterday from our hols.
Undeterred, I googled the nearest shop- Asda, opening at 7am. Had a quick, quiet shower, hung out the washing and bounced off there.
On arriving at 6:45am, I realised I’d left my purse somewhere. Where I was not sure. I search my bag, car then I drove home and searched the drawer, kitchen etc. I got the hubsters keys and searched his car and there it is under the seat.
I head to a closer shop which opens at 7:30 and grab some bits. I’m luckily enough to get a warm baguette, which I’m excited about for lunch later.
Come home and hubsters not bothered about breakfast. Feel slightly deflated.
Decide to take BB to my mums at 9am as she hasn’t seen her for a week. I wanted to make sure the gingerbread we brought was still nice and fresh.
My mum is living with my 90 year old nan as she’s waiting for her house to go through, it’s all been horribly delayed due to Covid.
I’m playing on the floor with my beautiful baby and they’re attempting to stand. My nan and mum are seated in chairs around the living room. BB grabs at my neck and shoulder to try and stand up.
My nan comments to BB, “that’s it hold on to your meaty mummy, plenty to hold on to”. I want to cry.
She then tries to back track by saying “aren’t you lucky your mum is cuddly”. I still want to cry.
I get back in the car and drive home. The hubster has decided to lower BBs cot today so has already started the project. Now I love my husband dearly, but he is rubbish at any flat pack. His ex wife used to tease him about it and he’s extremely over sensitive about it. So I can’t comment, offer advice and any attempts to help will be seen as a weakness. Here we go.
Wearily I set up a travel cot for BB.
Sure enough by noon I’m told the room is too small, which frustrates the hell out of me as he insisted my step daughter has the bigger room and BB is squashed into a tiny room. Even though she’s only here 50% of the time and is always with us downstairs. I grit my teeth and put BB down for a nap in the travel cot.
Normally if I was drinking I’d already be planning that glass of wine. I’d be pulling the time forward, because I deserved it. Dreaming of tonic water isn’t having the same effect.
I try and nap, but I’m awoken twice by the husband to explain exactly why the cot is, in his opinion, rubbish. I ask if he’s read the instructions and he gives me a long look and then huffs off to a hardware store to regain some testosterone.
So it’s 3pm and I’m thinking about drinking. The cot saga is still ongoing and I’m trying to practice gratitude but I’m finding it difficult. So far I’ve come up with I’m grateful I have a tumble dryer.
I’m going to need to do yoga or run this evening just to work out this black cloud swirling inside me. I also need to stop eating my feelings but that’s another issue for another time.
Hope everyone else is staying strong, I find a lot of strength from others blog posts. So will also be doing a lot of reading later and looking at photos from this past week.
Love and screams of despair
Ps as writing this twat cat has decided to poop next to her dirt tray as revenge for leaving her. FML