Time’s too short!

I think I must have typed myself out with that NaNo thing as I’m just not in the mood to post anything at the moment. It’s not that I don’t have things I keep thinking I could post about, I’m just too worn out to articulate myself!

But whilst I’m proving to be a lousy bl*gger, I’m doing better with the homemaker title and have spent the weekend wrangling with huge pieces of material for our lounge curtains! Apart from the two full length windows to be covered, I’m doing a door curtain so the kids can’t hear everything we say about them at night when they’re pretending to be asleep. Of course any normal person would have a door, but that’s too easy and expensive for us! On one side of the door curtain I’m using the lounge material, and on the other faux suede in cream. I’m also lining it with a thermal insulator and I think it will make an outstanding throw if we change our minds and opt for the doors.

And the BH has been busy too. He’s butchered one of our larder units from the garage and moved it to our kitchen hall, so now I have no excuses and have to put the hoover and ironing board away.

Our house might be a home by this time next year!

No that the kids’ll appreciate it. As fast as we work to make things nice, they’re staining the carpet and sticking irritating stickers all over their doors. And we have told them not to. But they outnumber us. J and S have even pulled down their curtains, complete with rail before the rest of us have any up!

And that brings my thoughts back around to my thermal insulator. And back doors. Anyone would think we had another person living here with the odd things that go on! I took P to rugby yesterday morning and unlocked the door to leave (no latch, you have to use a key), when we returned we were locked out. But the BH didn’t do it. R didn’t do it, and P and J were with me. Which does leave S, but she’s too small to reach the keys and I don’t believe she has the brains to take the key, lock the door, then replace the key. Very odd. Like my insulation lining. I went into the garage Saturday night, but couldn’t find it. Which isn’t so surprising with all the crap we store in there. But then yesterday it’s sitting right in front of me, draped over the BBQ, and worse still someone had used it as dust sheet and got oil on it! Now I know it wasn’t me, and the BH swears it wasn’t him, and the kids… well, anything remotely like work and they’re out of sight, so it wasn’t them!

Other highlights of the weekend include going head-to-head with P. I really thought we were cracking his tendency to over-react when things aren’t exactly as he wants them. But we had words on Friday night, because I put two desserts in one bowl (this came about because all four wanted custard but there wasn’t enough to go around, so I made a batch of angel delight too and said they could all share). He went potty and demanded two bowls. I said no because if you pander to one… and anyway, it all goes down the same way! Anyone would think I force feeding the boy worms the way he reacted. Cruel, horrid, mean, tortuous mother that I am, I told him to forget it, as the others didn’t mind eating his share. He ate it up darn quick, but didn’t stop scowling.

Then yesterday morning he wanted to take a hat for rugby, but couldn’t find his official rugby one. Would he accept his school hat? Not on your life! I wouldn’t mind if he was gracious and just said ‘hey-ho’ and went without. But that would be too easy and he refused to leave till I emptied out the hat drawer and found one he considered acceptable.

I won’t moan about his fury at having to tuck his rugby shirt in, because his temper wasn’t aimed at me and his coach didn’t much care that P was wishing him dead.

Then this morning! Oh how the world hates this boy (at least in his opinion). Each (and every!) child in this house has to get their clothes ready in the evening for the following days activities. P said he’d got his football stuff together. But he hadn’t. And when his football top couldn’t be found as we raced about with the usual chaos this morning, any normal person would be relieved their mother kept spares of everything! But not P. The sleeves were too long. So I rolled them up. And if there’s one way to make P cross, it’s to roll his sleeves! His father wasn’t putting up with his nonsense and was in the car waiting to go and I finally pushed P out the door (literally).

And I know he’s still pissed at me because his teacher called. When I heard her voice I thought he’d made himself sick or something, but no, he’s smarter than that! He told her he didn’t have any lunch, so she lent him some money and sent him to the canteen. Little sod is such a liar! He got his lunch from the fridge this morning and stood there and watched me put it in his bag, when he was hollering about his football top.

I love that boy to bits, but I’m mighty glad the other three are more relaxed (and organised) in their approach to life.

Wow, I’ve waffled. This might be why I never have any time!