Monday was just, urgh, Monday, Boy back to school after a lovely weekend down south. We also got a phonecall to say that the two little friends we'd briefly seen on Friday had erupted with chicken pox on Saturday so am now watching Baby like a hawk. That'll be fun!
Tuesday was playdate tea with a little friend from school which was actually really lovely and went really well (read: noone cried and noone screamed about what was for tea!)
Wednesday morning is where it all started to go downhill. Despite every bone in my body shrieking 'no no no, it'll cause havoc with naptime' I had agreed to go for a loooong overdue coffee with the NCT girls straight after the school run and promptly spent the entire time there watching the clock and feeling a little sick. I really have to work on this control issue. Then when I got home I had an email about Boy's first class trip and promptly spiralled into a panic attack about coach crashes on the M6, paedophiles lurking in theatre bathrooms, children wandering off and getting lost for hours on end and being traumatised for life...it was emotionally exhausting. Needless to say, have taken decisive action immediately to put my mind at rest...I jest, have hidden the consent form and am refusing to think about it until the deadline for payment. Ostrich, head, sand, that's me!
(that's Baby admiring the traditional nativity line-up at Wyevale on the way to our fraught coffee)
Thursday was Boy's first class assembly and while he was the image of cool and calm, when he finally stood up to say his line infront of the whole school I welled up so much I couldn't even SEE him clearly.
(Batman's mother is the one at the back crying)
It probably didn't help that I had had to leave Baby with Husband's mother for the morning so was a hot mess about that too. As it turned out he was absolutely fine, of course, and hadn't really noticed I had left when I returned 90 minutes later. Sigh!
And the other thing that I've cried about is that I have set my heart on these little beauties...
and of course, after weeks of dithering about them and finally making my mind up...they are now sold out in my size. Which only means I need and want them even more. Have convinced myself they will solve all my Christmas party outfit issues. They won't. When they finally arrive they will look ridiculous. But that didn't stop me crying over them like a crazy woman. Le sigh!
So yes, am verging on dehydrated and have the worst puffy eyes since I first watched Gladiator (don't ask, something about that film has me in hysterics every time, Husband has banned it in our house)
Here's hoping the weekend won't involve any tears. Spag bol is in the slow cooker, have a girls' day out with Posh Mama planned for tomorrow (Husband doesn't know yet, hmm, we'll see how that goes down?!) and then it's Goddaughter's 5th birthday celebrations at the local soft play. Sunday is a comfy cozy lazy day...can not wait!
Have you got nice plans? It's meant to rain the entire time so whatever they are, pack a brolly!