Once again linking up with my vodka buddy DearBabyG for FFS!? Friday
Woo to the hoo. I love me some ranting and whining, and funnily enough, I’m actually quite good at it!
This week…multiple items have shit me / shat me / shited me / caused me to have the shits / induced the shits, and as such, I have made a shortlist.
Behold, the top 5 on this week's FFS!? Friday shit list :
#1 – toilet training the twins
What was progressing well has gone in reverse. As one gets it, the other doesn’t. As the other gets it, the first one forgets it. All of this results in me manual handling an obscene and unjust quantity of 'IT', FFS!?
|Genius! With a semi-comfortable platform and arm rests the potty is transformed into a you will stay here 24/7 until you learn to crap and whizz solely in this thing parenting tool.|
#2 – the cat is on its last legs
Life #9 is fading away before my very eyes. He's old. Ye olde worlde kind of old. Now I love that cat, and have done since I first got it back in 1996. The thing is, I now have a man-child and three actual children, so my maternal caring can only stretch so far. Often, one of the kids misses out. Regularly, #1Hubby misses out. Sadly, the cat doesn’t even get a look in. Watching his now totally deaf self slowly lope around the house only causes me great guilt at the lack of time I’ve had for him, and suddenly I have guilt upon guilt upon guilt between failing toilet training, throwing tantrums to rival The Twin Tornado when I have to handle their shit (literally), and failing Miss6 in her extra educational needs, and now also the bloody cat has been failed by me. FFS!?
#3 – does anyone know where my memory is?
I’m sure I had it at some point. It’s probably buggered off to wherever my marbles up and fled to when I first got knocked up. If I have to lie about one more missed play date, coffee date, appointment, school project / special uniform requirement / class item / permission slip, I am going to crack. There’s only so many viable lies that I keep in my repertoire. I have exhausted all of them in the past week and a bit since school went back. I may have to resort to the crazy wailing woman persona of Day 1 in order to distract the teacher from my inherently shit parenting ethos, FFS!?
#4 – puzzles are sadistic
The Twin Tornado are into puzzles at the moment. Suddenly they realise there’s a reason the picture comes apart into lots of little pieces. Unfortunately, that doesn’t deter Mstr3 from ripping the rounded ends from the pieces, or Miss3 from consuming the pieces. Then they get all ranty tanty when they try and put the puzzle together and pieces don't fit together or are missing entirely. Inconsolable. Hurty ears style inconsolable, and all their own bloody doing, FFS!?
#5 – the covert mullet may be making a comeback
My heart, it is all Achy Breaky. I suspect Miss6 has been cutting her own mullet’s again. This troubles me deeply, as I thought she was old enough now to understand the talk we had about mullets only being for Billy Ray Cyrus and shopping centre carpark bogans. While I have not caught her in the act, I have resorted to measuring the sides of her hair with a ruler while doing her hair each morning for school, as she's all distracted by watching Dora's latest drama. If I find even the slightest reduction in length, I’m counting it as hard evidence and launching a full enquiry. It will be called MULLETGATE. FFS!?
|No, Billy Ray. Just, no.|
And there’s more, but I think I’ll leave you all on the comedic high that is MULLETGATE.
Insert suspenseful DUM DUM DUMMMMM.
Guess what my maiden name is ?? ... Mullett. I kid you notReplyDelete
1996! that's like Zsa Zsa Gabor in human years, he's had a great run but yes he definitely deserves to sit in a wheelchair with a crochet blanket over him too. Who has the time? :( honey flavoured vodka in the milk instead might make him happy?
Speaking of vodka, not long now until we are in frozen vodka bliss. Thank truck x
Bahahahahaha - Mullettgate - I love it!ReplyDelete
Love it! Like reading real life stuff...and knowing I am not alone :)ReplyDelete