A friend of mine with an 8 month old confided in me a few months back that she was ‘just so cranky all the time’. I told her it was time to cut herself some slack. She’d gone back to work when the baby was about 4 weeks own (they run their own business), they have two older children, no help from her husband’s family and the help from hers comes dripping in guilt and that “well, OK, but…” kinda sentiment.
Anyway, today, actually it started incrementally yesterday, the crankiness is setting in. I mean, incubus hasn’t even come out yet. But I’m cranky at the world, as you could probably tell from my post on Sunday night. So really the increments are now a good 48hours old.
I walked in tonight and Felix said almost instantly, “Mummy, are you feeling a bit sad?” How switched on to his mother’s emotions is this child…
Did you note the ‘walked in’ part – that’s because after the driver’s seat in the car being broken for a good 6 months, Chef finally arranged to get it fixed today (after it really really broke last week so that when you accelerated the front of the seat flung backwards as if you were going warp speed) and getting it fixed today means your wife who is 37.5 weeks pregnant walks home from the bus stop that involves a b.i.g. hill. Getting it fixed today (as opposed to arranging it last week for Monday) means that I now don’t have the car tomorrow on the O.N.E. day of the week I have the car so do not have to endure up to 2 hours of sitting on a bus with stinky farting seat hogging men and stinky Supre dressed skanky hoes that frequent bus services on the northern beaches (these are the same bastards and bitches that still don’t offer a seat to a pregnant woman, let along a heavily I’m-about-to-drop-and-really-hope-my-waters-breaking-splashes-up-your-leg pregnant woman). Tomorrow was also the 50th birthday celebratory drinks gathering of a friend which I could actually go as I.would.have.the.car. – but now of course can’t go as its the other side of town and just not feasible in.my.condition.
The other aspect of the ‘walked in’ is that yes, Chef could have come and picked me up in Mum’s car, but the fussing about that, the filibustering about it was just not something I needed. I am going to GET it tomorrow morning anyway as now, despite the fact I.p.r.o.m.i.s.e.d. the boys I would drop them at holiday camp (aka vacation care) Mum will now do it as I w.o.n.’.t have the car.
I think you can sense my frustration that a) why wasn’t this done MONTHS ago and b) why was it done TODAY not yesterday, so it had minimal impact on everyone as opposed to MAXIMUM negative impact on me?
Then there was the request to clean up for me today. So as I walked in tonight, the house resembled an army (albeit of 3) of ants frantically trying to clean up before I walked in. The question remains – what the FUCK have you been doing on your TWO DAYS OFF – one with the boys at HOLIDAY CAMP – that has been so critical you couldn’t clean up the dining room table, vacuum and do some washing???
Putting Ikea shelving up in the wrong location, that’s what. With I think the most God-awful wall brakets he could find at the hardware shop, there are now four massive, UGLY brakets on the wall in.the.wrong.spot.
The next question is – why not do the things I asked if he would be able to do (which he said he would but didn’t) and do something that requires two people and cock-it-up???
That sort of summates the crankiness – there is another source but that would dooce me big time so I’m just swallowing that one.
The teariness just came from nowhere as I walked home and then some more as I disappeared up the bedroom as Felix dropped an entire bowl of pasta (a dinner there was no way I could eat but was made anyway despite there being a fridge full of meat, vegies and other far more nutritious options that if someone hadn’t been sitting on their fat arse all day and mounting shelves in the wrong spot could have cooked) onto the floor.