cranky pregnant woman

I realise this week’s mood has been largely set by lack of sleep (as opposed to last week’s which was determined by Oscar health issues) but man am I cranky.

Firstly, my husband seems to have forgotten the word ‘consideration’. Firstly, on the way home from getting the casts made for Oscar’s super legs, he ate an entire packet of Kettle chips and didn’t even offer me o.n.e. . I didn’t want one mind you – such delicacies are a highway to heartburn for me at the moment – but really, just O.F.F.E.R.

Then, yesterday, I didn’t have breakfast and I left late for work as we HAD to get Oscar’s enrolment forms in for next year (they’re so overdue its making me feel ill). I even filled in his section. All the while he sat on the lounge eating a massive bowl of cereal drinking a coffee. He hadn’t offered to even make me a cup of tea while standing at kettle preparing his morning hot beverage. ALL he had to do was sign in his spot and then, in the several hours he had at home ALONE drive down the road and hand it in. Nope, not done. Nor did he help me by remaking Oscar’s bed (that he had leaked in as Pull-Ups are a nice word for substandard big boy nappies) that I had stripped and washed.


For the FIFTH time this week, I had to stand the entire way in on the bus from Narra to the city. That is over an hour peoples. And incase people thought my girth was just gristle, I.AM.INCUBATING.

So let it be known – yes, the Northern Beaches are home to divine beaches and all that goes with such things – but the people who live there, nay, the people who live there and catch public transport are self-centred, misogynistic arseholes who deserve all my wrath… and as you can see, are getting it.

Happy Friday!