Okay, so we're back from the UK for a whole 3 days now and it's about time I caught up with posting.
Had a major breakdown on Monday when I lost it with the kids over their playroom. It's a lovely room, filled with lovely toys. Lovely sodding toys that I now appear to spend half my bloody day picking up. I was having the kitchen looked over by the HSE on Tuesday and even though they were only interested in the kitchen I thought it best if the whole house was spotless. Y'know, the way it is in real, everyday life.
I pulled out their sofa and a tonne of toy cars, biscuits, markers and enough bloody Lego to build a castle fell out. I lost it. No. I'm not proud. Not in the least. I roared at them. I roared and told them that if they didn't start looking after their toys and picking them up I was going to pick them up and give them away to some children who have nothing. I looked around and said "I'm going to give away the Lego, the x-box, the colouring books and . . . RIZZO and RAFFY'. I was on flying form. I threatened my two youngest with getting rid of their absolute favourite teddy. Each. # 3 got so upset he cried until he had a headache.
Then I got a headache from stressing out my lovely, if untidy, little boys. Buggery duck.
Apologised later and promised I would never, ever throw out Rizzo or Raffy but I bloody would throw out the Lego.
I am officially the world's worst mother.
