Grumpy Mummy

imageAfter a great summer of late starts, time off work, sunshine and fun, I’m sorry to admit that I have not handled the first week back to school well. I appear to have turned into Grumpy Mummy. It was our best summer to date, with T being so much older and more manageable and I’ll be honest, I really bloody miss it already.

The kids seem to have settled into their new classes well and I’ve not had any complaints from them about being back in the routine, but I feel a bit like a floundering fish on a river bank, thrashing about pointlessly. I’m just not at all in my groove yet.

The leaves have started to fall too. Usually I love Autumn so much that I don’t care when summer ends, but not this year. Summer rocked and I don’t want to face the fact that it is over.

OK, so the school run gets to me by the end of term but I usually quite like the weekly routine of term time. It works. I know where every kid has to be on any given day of the week and I usually manage to get them there roughly on time without too much stress. But this time term has kicked off, with the clubs starting again next week, and I feel ridiculously behind the curve with it all. It is by some miracle that the older two made it to school every day and I feel totally drained by week one. God knows how I’ll manage with all the clubs starting.

Not only am I feeling that I am still very much in holiday mode in a regimented term-time world, but I have added the pressure on by choosing now as the time to start potty training the little one again. Foolish in the extreme, given that he literally could not give a monkeys about pooing on the loo. He keeps saying he is still a baby and babies wear nappies. That isn’t a great sign, is it?

imageI’ve become even more of an alcoholic too. On holiday we drank every day and I appear to have carried on that trend. I’ve got a bit of a cricked neck at the moment and the osteopath can’t fit me in for ages so it is kinda medicinal. Or so I tell myself. My neck is giving me headaches, which I treat with more booze. It relaxes the muscles, right? So surely it will help. Besides, I need it after a day of cleaning up wee and flicking poo out of pants. And it is either that or seriously lose my shit. Booze is about the only thing keeping Grumpy Mummy at bay some evenings. Sometimes the bedtime routine is just unthinkable without kids TV rolling and a massive glass of wine. Most times, this week. I’m definitely not even contemplating adding up my units.

I’m not going on a big downer here. I know this is just a bad combination of shit. The pain in the neck has a lot to answer for. It is hard to grab life by the balls when you have an neverending headache. And I maybe could have waited a couple of weeks to restart the potty training.

imageI’m almost certain that by this time next week, with a full week of school, work, clubs and all the jazz under my belt, I’ll feel totally on top of it all again. No doom and gloom. Just a bit of grump and groan. But I’m looking forward to feeling less grouchy and more on top of things.

We got our first homework back from school today; our first school newsletter giving dates of things right up to Christmas. There is no escaping it. Term has us in it’s grip. There is nothing to do but suck it down, even if it tastes rubbish.

My biggest concern about being in seriously Grumpy Mummy mode now that the weekend has landed is that I am liable to do something a bit daft. I am going out for dinner and drinks tomorrow with a brilliant mate who listens to all my moans and has a habit of plying me with more wine than I can handle. I can already foresee that Sunday is going to a right off. Part of me dreads the idea of doing homework with the eldest with a stinking headache but another (sadly much bigger) part of me is saying “Do it!! It will make you feel sooo much better about everything!” I have a suspicion I know which voice is going to win.

So, let’s write this weekend off. And then it is time to start scribbling on the calendar, planning the logistics of the every day, the juggling three small social whirls. And muttering under my breath “You can do it, you can do it”. Or, if that doesn’t work, muttering “Fuck fuck fuck fuck” from time to time. Whatever works, right?

Good luck everyone. Let’s beat the shit out of this school run bollocks.



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