Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Going to bed early is good for you. Early to bed, early to rise, makes a (wo)man healthy, wealthy and wise. Could do with all of those. I can do that. Two days later, no I cant. Whoever made up that saying did not have a DH that works a late shift coming home at silly o'clock and waking me with his cold feet. Neither could he - had to be a he - have a 15 yr old that needs to be dragged home from the (lovely) girlfriend; a 14 yr old that has never needed sleep; an 11 yr old that's just, well, 11; and an 8 yr old with SN that doesn't believe in going to bed!

So my good intentions last, what, 2 days. But I'm not failing, just delaying the start date. My new mantra for anything I fail at. So fall asleep just after midnight. Beep.Beep. Beep. or some other irritating noise wakes me up at 5.30am. Sorry mum, set my alarm wrong. Under my breath the words of Mutley from Dastardly and Mutley fame springs to mind. Out loud, s'okay, go back to sleep. Morning mummy. No hunny go back to sleep it's too early. Cbeebies? No, it's too early even for Cbeebies. There is a merciful God! Both go back to sleep. D (or not so D at that precise moment) H never even woke. Lay there trying to go back off, which we all know is pointless. Then start planning all the things that could get done if I only got out of bed, and yet still I lay there. Why do that? One of those questions on a par with what's the answer to life, the universe and everything. When the house eventually stirs normal chaos ensues. And strops - my God, how are teenagers so good at that. Off to work. Mid-afternoon took part in a long text chat with a dear friend that both DH and I wubs very much, who was feeling low - and can't say I blame her I would too if I were her. So impromptu visit straight after work with flowers. Laughter followed, rather a lot, tears streaming down our faces. Laughter really is the best medicine. Whenever Jeanette and I get together the topic of convo always reached sewer level. "Aha!" those that have listened to J and I when we're together "makes perfect sense". So in a few weeks if you see a couple of woman, 1 in a wheelchair and 1 pushing, laughing inanely; behaving totally inappropriately; and quoting 'want that one' please stop us and *tell us to act our age/introduce yourself/join in. *Delete as appropriate.

Get home. Take away. I know. I know. DIET. But I shouldn't think I put any weight on. I felt decidedly yeuck. TMI? Football on the telly. Could Liverpool play any worse than they did last Sat at home against Arsenal in FA Cup. Yes they could. Too painful to watch. DH give me a lift to Jaqs please. Okay, but no staying out till 1 in the morning. As if. I mean, 12.45am isn't quite 1am is it. No I didn't think so either. Had a lovely evening with a group of friends. Argued. Put the world to right. Laughed. And sadly cried. Not going into details, but remember 3 words can destroy a person. And you may have to explain your actions to Him one day.

Ending on a brighter note. DDH is a gem. DH would you mind if I booked another weekend away. Got 3 organised already. Yes. Well not yes. Text actually said (ok, yes, I'm a coward I texted to ask) Yeah, course, but you owe me big time in any shape and size I choose. Bit worried about what he means. Answers on a postcard to 'S**t Suzanne what have you let yourself in for.'

1 comments:

  1. Heck what a whirlwind, no wonder you need more sleep than you are getting! Your DH is precious saying yes to all your shenannigans!

    Hope you are in bed now and get a good lie in tomorrow too.

    xxxx's

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