I appreciate that by having a massive rant on my last post and then disappearing is the blogging equivalent of those Facebook posts. You know the ones, the dramatic “Checked in at local hospital” posts with the ambiguous “I’ll PM you hun” when anyone asks what the fuck is going on.

It wasn’t that, I didn’t drink. I really wanted to. But then I’d be pissed off and hungover and that didn’t seem the most attractive option. So I dealt, weathered the storm and something surprising happened, I started doing real life stuff. Really boring real life stuff, cleaning and sorting and visiting family.

My husband’s away so this morning I was parenting solo, to four children who seem to make it their life missions to drive me insane. I timed No.3 getting dressed, after 15 minutes I discovered he was  still in is pyjamas contemplating which clothes to wear (your UNIFORM, you put your uniform on, their is no choice!). After 25 minutes he had removed his pyjama bottoms and after a full 50 minutes he was dressed bar his socks, these were not to be applied until 30 seconds before leaving, reasons unknown.

Why didn’t I supervise him? Well, No.1 decided to encourage No. 4 to be Superman. This involved removing every cushion in the sitting room area to make a landing spot before leaping off the sofas. Inspired by the superhero theme, No 4. spontaneously decided to accessorise his outfit with a rather snug toilet seat over his head. However he somehow managed to get this wedged so was screaming at full volume while I wrestled it off (I actually thought I was going to have to take him to A&E to get it removed, at least I’d have got a Facebook post out of it).


Why wasn’t I supervising them? I was in the kitchen preparing 3 packed lunches while bellowing out spellings, “calves!”, “unnecessarily!” at No.2 who currently has ear problems resulting in him being as deaf as a post.

In the past this would have started me down a well worn track. I would justify to myself that the morning had been hectic enough that I should reward myself some way. Eat shit, zone out on the internet, do nothing. Then when it came time to collect the children I’d already be stressed because I wouldn’t have accomplished any essential tasks that day. So then I’d try and fit them in while parenting and it wouldn’t work and I’d get more stressed until the only thing keeping me going would be the thought of collapsing on the sofa, drink in hand and forgetting the day had happened.

But today is different, I did eat some junk, I am on the internet right now but I’ve also done some of those essential tasks and what’s most important, I will not have a drink.

Childhood, the most draining years of a parent’s life


  1. You’re so right, the whole thing is rather draining! I know that feeling too, I got prosecco in the post just after 9am this morning and had an overwhelming urge to crack it open. I resisted. Go me. Hats off to you going through it with four of them 😉

    • Ha! I blame Christmas. You have people trying to strongarm you into a double brandy at 7am (Come on, it’s Chrrisstmasss!) For about 2 weeks then suddenly you’re supposed to behave.
      I call it the January twitches and my four would drive the Pope himdelf to the communion wine.
      Hope you’re surviving all this (nonexistent) snow!


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