- I've been feeling less than awesome for a week or so now and I've been blaming it on my flu shot of two weeks ago. Truthfully, it's probably sleep deprivation. Gah. FFS.
- I awoke at 1am and fed Pip, and again at 4.30am, and again at 6.30am, at which point I made a cup of tea and leave the tea infuser in. That's how dire my situation was. I congratulated myself on using breastfeeding as a way to weigh the least since early 2010. The downside is the lethargy. The plus side is aforementioned weight loss and the ability to imbibe a disgusting amount of chocolate and sugar. Sort of FFS.
- We breakfast, Pip goes down for a nap and I attempt to ready Millie for Playgroup, aka Mummy Time where Millie gets to play too.
Pip wakes and will not feed before we go out. Uhoh. This does not bode well. I find a dummy clip and congratulate myself (again) for a job well done, ensuring we have a quiet car ride without Pip flinging her dummy all over the place.
2 minutes up the road, I hear Pip yelling from her seat. Pull over to discover that dummy is indeed, still in her mouth. She's just holding it out to yell. FFS.
- 8 minutes up the road, Pip is still yelling in various dulcet tones of Bobcat Golthwait. Turn the radio up. Millie exclaims about every cow/tree/car/truck she can see.
15 minutes up the road, Pip yells louder again and Millie demands 'SING, MUM. TOO LOUD, PIP.' from the back seat. I begin singing songs about bicycles, working through my repertoire until I hit The Beatles. We make it to my friend's house and I dash inside to say hi whilst the kids are happily waiting in the car, talking to my friend's kids.
I dash back out, realise it's been a few minutes and both kids are screaming, snotty and inconsolable. Millie gets a box of sultanas, Pippa a headpat. We head to Playgroup. I sing more Beatles tunes loudly and Millie and I listen to Pippa's banshee screaming. FFS.
- Into Playgroup, Pippa starts screaming when a friend says hello to her, and doesn't stop and won't feed for the next 40 minutes. She eventally feeds, burps, looks happier. Millie sidles up to me and says 'Poo.'
No poo. She wanders off, and comes back in a few minutes, walking like a cowgirl. Alas. FFS.
- I change her nappy, change Pippa's nappy at the same time and run out of wet wipes. Congratulate myself for having the exact number of wipes required. You can see where this is going.
- Millie comes running up again, walking like a fragrant cowgirl. SERIOUSLY? FFS.
- A friend hands me her wet wipes and I realise that I'm out of Millie nappies. She is shoehorned into a Pippa sized nappy and we head home.
Well, almost. Pippa screams in the car park for ten minutes and I rock her gently by the side of my car until she's somewhat consoled. She is not consoled. I pack her into the car and thankfully she's asleep before we hit the highway.
- I bought a beautiful fancy True Cut Rotary Cutter this week. I nicked the blade on the second use. FFS.
- The next day I bought a replacement blade. First cut went via my finger. FFS.
- I have low platelets. This means I bleed a lot. I panicked, rand Mr S at work (voicemail?!) and Googled 'How to stop cut bleeding'. Pressure on wound, wound above heart. FFS.
- I was cutting white muslin. FFS. Thankfully (?) the cut was so deep it didn't bleed immediately. Muslin saved.
- That night Mr S was out, the girls were in bed by 7pm and the house was mine. I sat down on the floor with all my fabric and pattern and got cutting again. I was interrupted every ten seconds by Lucy the cat rubbing my hands, licking my fingers and scratching the pattern. FFS.
- Lucy also feels that using her litterbox is optional. Next to the box is much nicer option. FFS.
- Thankfully Lucy's litterbox lives in our bath, so it's an easy clean up. We've just started bathing both girls in the big bath so most days I wind up disinfecting and scrubbing the bath. FFS.
- Mirena. Enough said. FFS.
You missed my FFS, didn't you?
Now, go and enjoy Sarah's FFS Fridays too...