please sir, can I have some more?

Sunday, 8 August 2010

Well aren't you the lucky ones, two...read it again, yest two updates. Do you feel special? you should. One may even suspect i might actually like you.

It is currently the torture period, aka the Summer Holidays which means The Boy-Child and The Girl-Child have all day everyday together resulting in WWIII atmosphere and The Husband on a very thin line between Hulk and a breakdown whilst I conveniently hide with The Baby in the bedroom (The Baby is a bit of a sleepoholic which is quite charming) My parents have conveniently 'buggered awf' to Spain for a week thus taking away our rehab option for The Boy Child to go and chill out whilst we try and regain some semblance of sanity, whatever that may be.

I'm one of those weird attached parents who breastfeed on demand, co-sleep, cloth bum, baby wear, refuse to CIO, abhor early weaning yada yada yada although i hasten to add i currently do not weave my knickers out of lentils and I'm hellishly carnivorous.....did i mention I bite? if you're lucky.

I'm finding it most difficult to accept the fact that The Baby will indeed be my last baby. I don't feel finished yet and my dear womb is positively weeping at the prospect of being abandoned and derelict. The Husband is most insistent that there shall be 'NO more' (oh please sir....? Can I have some more?) despite my incessant imploring and my bottom lip which has sulked out so far you could sit on it. He is most adamant he is going to get The Snip despite me kindly offering to do it for him in the comfort of our own home should he agree to a fourth.... Not that a fourth would be possible anyway since I refuse to go near him with that roadkill on his face and he refuses to shave it off. Abstinence is indeed the most successful contraceptive.

Oh and i'm now the ever fateful 3-0 with even less idea or direction in life then before. Arse.

I suppose one should really entertain the idea of gathering a life as such has been unbeknown to me since i became a socially anxious obese hermit (oh darling pvc i miss you) Actually leaving the house may be an idea as I seem not only to be reclusive but a touch agoraphobic now too, as if I didn't have enough issues (oh dear. I appear to have fallen into an emo realm)

The Baby is grumbling, must go....

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