While Bec was smiling inanely wearing overalls and a daffodil yellow tee…

I was living another over-committed weekend.

***** UPDATE: I’ve felt weird about this post ever since writing it. Let it be known it’s not like I’m trying to claim rights to the shittiest weekend ever. That this is really just a standard weekend day for any of us. I’m just whinging. Really. Indulge me. *****

Can I just say (again) how much I absolutely, purely h.a.t.e. Saturday mornings. I believe this pathological hatred stems from the fact that my albeit short life as a university student and then part of a dual-income-no-kids existence where Saturdays were the day you slept in until at least 11 but sometimes 1, then spent a couple of hours reading the papers often with friends at some gorgeous little cafe that did the best eggs and coffee, before either heading home to prepare dinner for friends or to go out for dinner with friends.

Kim’s life circa 1996
Friday night – binge drink with workmates, maybe smoke, get home sometime after midnight but usually before 3am
11am – rise and drink litre of water, take a couple of panadeine, go back to bed
1pm – get up, go and buy papers, maybe some croissants from this awesome French patisserie in Mosman
a.l.l. afternoon – read papers
3pm – gin and tonic o’clock
evening – friends over for dinner – eat massive amounts of sumptious food, drink copious amounts of red wine have a glorious time
1am (ish) – bed

Kim’ s life circa 2006
5am – woken by baby or eldest child. If woken by oscar it is to a refrain of “no school?” then a “yay!” then denying requests to play computer, Star Wars Lego. Drag self out of bed to put Star Wars DVD on to stop the whinging.
5.15 – re-woken to wipe eldest’s bottom. (the writing is so on the wall isn’t it, as to how a day will transpire if it starts wiping someone elses arse)
By 7am – onto second load of washing. Kids dressed for chiropractic adventures.
8am – attempt to leave house for soccer.
Stand on edge of field cheering. Pretend to care.
10ish – home. Feed Jasper morning tea.
10.15 – leave for tennis.
after tennis this week we went to Warriewood Squank (its a square but skanky) and I bought the boys bribe presents for later in the day.
12.30 ish – Home for a bit. Jasper gets about 15 minutes in his cot.
Torrential rain.
12.45 – Leave for eye appt. With three children. (hence earlier Star Wars Lego bribe presents)
Eye appt. Jasper crawls around floor. Boys play (beautifully) in main shop.
Bought bread, papers. Went home.
1.30 – Remembered b’day party.
1.45 – Left for b’day party.
Hung out with people I don’t know at b’day party. Oscar cried a few times. Felix looked sooo bored.
5.30pm – home. Cooked dinner. Fell asleep in Felix’s bed- around 8.30.

SUCKVILLE, people. That’s not a Saturday, that’s a week-in-one-day. The highlight of which was that I managed not to yell at anyone (much) and instigated minimal psychological damage on my children to add to their already vault-laden years-of-therapy quota.

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