Ah so the summer of love is over and everything returns to normal. The kids are back to school. The Husband is back to running the country. And I am back to tearing my hair out.
Actually I haven't been totally honest with you about the summer holidays. It really wasn't all peachy. For example, a friend and I counted the amount of times our collective five children cried for no reason between the hours of 7am - 1pm and the answer was sixteen. We gave up counting after it got well into double figures. It was like a crying orchestra.
Anyway it's back to life, back to reality as the new school year starts. I am already paranoid in the playground. My new philosophy is trying to be non-bitchy but it's really hard especially when one of the mums said to me "Do you really allow your daughter to dress like that?". Everyone is commenting on how I seem to be turning into an Earth Mother but I'm insisting that it's just that I've let myself go since getting the dog. Gucci sandals, beads and flowery maxi dresses don't really go with walking through fields and washing off fox poo. I have been wearing the same pairs of shorts since last Tuesday but I am most definitely not baking cupcakes and making paper dolls.
I realised life was returning back to normal yesterday when everybody was getting on my nerves. Don't tell The Husband but The Dog was even doing my head in - she likes to chew shoes and up til now it's been quite funny because she always chooses The Husband's trainers. But yesterday she ripped a piece out of my Ugg boots and now it's not so funny anymore.
The Husband made some comment about it always being about me. Which it is but I didn't think I was that obvious. And I certainly don't want him thinking that. I want him to feel GUILTY AS HELL that he goes to work and has adult conversations and free time on the train while I'm stuck at home trying to stop World War Three from kicking off over Who Has The Most Jelly Tots In Their Packet.
The Tomboy since going back to school has started crying over absolutely bloody everything. Which is probably in the Top Three Things Of What Gets On My Nerves The Most to the point where she can have half her arm hanging off and I am way past caring. I explained to her about The Boy Who Cried Wolf and she said "Well what about The Mummy Who Didn't Have A Heart". Mmmmm maybe she's got a point.
The Tweenager has become a hardcore hip hop rapstar since going into Year 3 and, what the hell, I'm just gonna go with it. He might end up selling a multi-platinum album and having him being super-rude to me is a small price to pay for the riches which are heading for my bank account.
So you'll be happy to hear that my blog is on its way to returning back to normal. I must have been possessed over the summer by the Spirit Of An Almost Happy Mother who has been well and truly exorcised by the regular routine of Smith family life. Welcome back!