G’ah

So today was one of those days.
You know the one.
When you attempt too much in too shorter space of time and end up crying on the floor in the kitchen with the freezer door open and foodstuffs spewed forth all over the floor because the freezer is so effing small you put a baby chicken in there and it’s full and you’ve got about half a side of a cow to get in there and you realise your eldest child who does not have the coping mechanism to cope with such behaviour is simultaneously watching you and watching his youngest brother, the 11 week old, cry so much he has slipped out of the bouncy and is now lying on the floor crying his little heart out as his over-stretched-by-design mother had plonked him in the bouncy while trying to corale three children into the house, unpack groceries, feed the 11 week old and get back to the older middle child’s ‘student led conference’ which is code for what a clusterfuckofanidea clearly thought up by some education bureaucrat that neither has children or has ever stood in front of a group of children let alone gained qualifications in teaching and developed any form of comprehension as to what a waste of time this ‘conference’ is which was precluded by the aforementioned crying and then still more crying as I changed dirty nappies again and Thomas the Effing Engine music just about sent me over the edge so I turned it off which of course triggered a meltdown in the I-didn’t-really-have-a day-sleep younger middle child who kept thrusting a video in my face as I was changing the nappy which just made me snap, grab the video and t.h.r.o.w. it at the television causing it to fly open in one direction and the video to go in the other and stimulating more crying as I then saw oldest just sitting on the hallway steps trying not to cry and then trying to explain to him mummy was just overwhelmed, tired and hungry and he hadn’t done anything wrong before going to the clusterfuckofanidea, being late and seeing the older middle child just sitting forlornly waiting for his always late mother to then rush through everthing he’s learnt so far this year and then heading home again to do dinner, baths, supervise homework, sort washing, hang washing out, put more washing on, clean up from dinner, empty dishwasher and rage away at how effing useless it is and then as you’re repacking it, you realise the soap tablet is still in there and then you realise the cycle had barely started so clearly the younger middle child, the one currently very into pushing buttons, had turned it off before it had really begun so you realise everything you’ve just put away has essentially just been rinsed as opposed to cleaned but you can’t even muster the energy to pretend to care.
One of those days.