You know

I’d be talking to you all if I wasn’t having a fucking nervous breakdown.

Because you see, now there’s a dog in the house.

The one I won’t have to do anything for or with.
The one Chef is going to do everything for. (That would be the same Chef who got home tonight at 6 and went out to a staff dinner at 7. The staff dinner I didn’t go to becaues someone had to look after the fucking dog.)

The one I fucking drove to the other side of Sydney to pick up.
With a kid asking me every freaking minute if we were going to get “Coco woof woof” – as opposed to fucking “Coco moo moo”, which I suspect would be far fucking easier to look after.
The one that tries to eat the baby if I put the baby on the floor, all in gorgeous playful puppy licking nibblingness of course. But you know? I’d like to put my kid down every now and then.
The one I have to watch every fucking minute incase it pisses on the floor. Which it has done twice. When I wasn’t watching it but trying to be a mother or even
The one I’ve stood out in the fucking rain with encouraging it to piss but instead it does that puppy playful falling over thing and chews on some other half broken crap toy from the sandpit. The one that has been crying, nay fucking screaming in a mournful hollow wailing kind of way from its bed in the laundry. For about three fucking hours. Which means I can’t go in there to put Oscar’s sheets in the drier or put another load of washing on. And you all know how much comfort my OCD tendencies get from doing washing.
The one that has destroyed any last thread of sanity I was hanging on to because the little white happy pills aren’t fucking working.
And you know what is making it all worse.
That it is so fucking cute – and intelligent (the little shit already gets the idea of fetch, sit and down) I can’t help but look after the little fucker:

In other news.

We (for Felix) completed our first craft project this week:

I found out this afternoon that Felix is significantly behind in reading. Worringly so.

And I wonder if I am capable of producing children without fucking issues???

And look – tomorrow’s Saturday.

Oh Goody.

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