Linking up with mah homey DearBabyG as usual for the weekly whinathon.
Labelling it a whinathon means I can dedicate lengthy periods of time to wine consumption, since it is an 'athon'. In fact, in my experience of anything ending in 'athon', I should be sponsored for my hard work and dedication.
So where's my sponsorship? FFS.
Speaking of athon's - Miss6 has a Mathathon. The biggest fundraiser wins an iPod Touch. She's been whining for one ever since. She has no idea what it does, but she needs it. FFS.
Even if I hit up every family member we'd never raise the most money. It would be cheaper for me to go out and buy her a bloody iPod Touch. Only she doesn't need one, and she wouldn't know how to use it, and she'd be bored with it the very second she realises it doesn't connect her directly to Hannah Montana's private number. FFS.
I hibernated at the indoor play centre yesterday to avoid the crappy, cold, rainy weather outside. I assumed it would be fairly vacant as other parents knew better and stayed indoors for the day. Quite the opposite, in fact. I'm still suffering from the ringing in my ears. FFS.
|Surely the Play Centre has a duty of care to post a warning such as this outside the threshold AKA Point Of No Return?|
I took the Twin Tornado to the toilet and we were gone all of 5 minutes. When I got back, a Dad was moving my stuff to a dirty but vacant adjacent table. He was in the middle of setting himself and his 2 kids up at our table when I stood there looking confused, and he said "Oh, you don't mind, right?".
Erm, no - by all means shove my stuff on to the dirty but vacant table right beside my occupied but clean table. I'd hate you and your 2 kids to have to clear a table, like you're expecting me and mine to do. FFS.
My level of pissed-offedness was way out of proportion, so I figured it was time to leave the place before I popped a vein over something so small. At the exact moment I got outside it pissed down with rain, thus increasing my already maxed out pissed-offedness. FFS.
I swore as Mstr3 gleefully jumped in a puddle and soaked me from the shins down. FFS.
The Twin Tornado spent the rest of the afternoon screaming said swear word out at the top of their lungs. FFS.
The Avon Lady came yesterday afternoon to collect her catalogue. I had to tell her that I hadn't seen it. Mstr3 said "No Mummy. Liv ate it." and pointed at his perpetually ravenous sister. FFS.
Then they cheerfully swore at the lovely old Avon lady by way of greeting. FFS.
So I had to hastily grab a spare catalogue off her and buy some random piece of crap that I don't want or need, purely out of guilt and the hope that my spending $4.99 will appease her moral standards and make her magically forget my lying and my kids' swearing. FFS.
I found another white brow hair. FFS.
#1Hubby's chest hair has also been invaded by a couple of white hairs. There goes any remote chance of closing my eyes and morphing him into George Clooney. FFS.
Now I will be literally having relations with #1Hubby and not a hybrid cross between him and George. Because there's only so much grey/white I can respectably deal with - you know, since I'm a wee youngun at only 24 years of age. Ahem and FFS.
|My grey hair limit (assuming the carpet matches the curtains)|
Miss6 is soon to lose her 2nd tooth. She's all excited about the Tooth Fairy visiting again and leaving her another $2 to spend on apparently consumable cheap crap lip gloss at the $2 shop. FFS.
Miss3 piped up with a request : "Mummy, when I'm a big girl and mines tooths do come out..."
Pause to ensure I'm listening. Serious faces all round....
"Make mines wine and not $2, ok Mummy?"
So Miss3 will take a glass of Soft Dry White instead, thank you very much. FFS
On the Lohan scale of children, Miss3 is going to be a Lindsay (wild and troublesome), not an Ali (quieter, sweeter). FFS.
Miss6 will be a Britney. FFS.
I'm now awaiting negative comments about my obviously extensive alcohol intake and the negative image it is conveying to my susceptible offspring. FFS.
And to those haters, I have but one thing to say in my defence:
Octomom made a porno (a solo porno?) and is doing a series of strip shows to promote her porno. The one person on the planet who possibly makes me look like a good parenting role model. God speed and boom chika wow wow, Octomom.