Wednesday, 11 April 2012

Predictably The Husband and I had that age old debate this morning of 'I'm more fucking tired then you' which concluded with me having an hour in bed, result! (He does love me it would appear Hoorah!) Some of the little pearls from the 'discussion' involved me pointing out he chooses to go out and have fun to which he countered that I choose to breastfeed and co-sleep and thus be woken throughout the night.  Oh and M.E is just yuppie flu. Considering he drank my Pepsi last night when he got in I think that quite frankly a lie in was the least I deserved. He did condition it with me having to change, dress and give The Toddler his breakfast first, to which The Toddler decided only Daddy could feed him. Ha! Back of the net!

The Toddler lately has fought wildly against me changing, dressing, lifting him in and out of things etc and absolutely insists that Daddy does it.  I'd be offended but quite frankly after changing every nappy for 23 months I'm rather amused that I'm now seemingly banned from these tasks (unless daddy is out)  However, the little charmer saved his shitty nappy for when Daddy was home, lucky Daddy.

Why do they always produce a poo when you've just washed all the nappies so that it can linger and fester at the bottom of the nappy bin?

Thing Two proclaimed that she likes it when Mummy does breakfast because Daddy is just a body with a willy and has no head, arms or legs (who smells) Did I mention she also loves me more?  it's true, she's told us, several times.  It's terribly equal though, I'm almost positive that Thing One loves The Husband more.

Whilst swinging her dollies around she informed me that they were 2 month, 4 month and 5 month old and then continued to ask me if I knew what they love to eat? Sausages and chips apparently.

Me: 'erm aren't they a little young for that?'
Thing Two :'it's okay they don't put salt on them or anything!'

Oh.  Dear.

Thing One had a tremendously good time at the outlaws and returned in good cheer although now the terrible twosome are reunited arguments, fighting and insatiable silliness has ensued or should I say merely recommenced.

I rejoiced this morning when The scales of Doom showed that despite going way over my calorie allowance for several days and living predominantly off copious amounts of chocolate (Sorry Kids) I've lost a pound! No doubt they're only teasing and tomorrow I'll have gained four, yet today I am at least 4stone lighter then I was at my heaviest (it's debatable it's either 4 stone or 4st 8lbs as the old scales were a bit squiffy and were 8lbs out, though I'm not actually sure at what point they went that way). Only one dress size and 17lbs to go, oh motivation where art thou?

It has dawned on me that June this year will mark 12 years of The Husband and I being together 8 of which we've been married.  Then I felt a little depressed so tried not to think about it too much any more.

No, I jest.... I feel in the current social climate were relationships start and end on Social Networking and long term relationships are considered to long term after 2 weeks that we've actually done rather well especially as we have dastardly bad luck and our fair share of ups and downs. Crikey maybe that bothersome 'Till Death Do Us Part' may actually be real.  Damn.

I do love him, sort of ... in a way.

Well best go, The Husband is snoozing on the sofa, The toddler is having a break from parading around in his sisters lilac play heeled shoes to have his 6567575th boobie snack today whilst driving me berserk as he tries to tune in radio Luxembourg with the nipple he isn't suckling and Thing One and Thing Two gone disturbingly quiet.....I'm trying not to think about what they could be filming on Thing Two's leappad, especially as bums, sick, wee, poo, boobies and willies feature high on the amusement list.

I dream of vodka (& Valium)


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