It's struck in a big way here. But there are still another two and a half weeks of school to get through.
This afternoon is going to be hard work. I need to deal with a child who burst into tears today in front of his class because he didn't get a medal in the poetry competition at school. We then need to go and buy a present for a girl in his class, whose party on Saturday he's been invited to (and I'm quoting what the girl said to him here...) "because I'm asking J (another boy in the class) and he'll need another boy to play with." Lucky I know the girl's Mum, otherwise I'd be a bit offended by that kind of invitation.
Between now and then I have to fill in heaps of forms for a short term job that I'm starting in Term 1 next year. This is tedious because just a couple of weeks ago I had to fill in another hundred forms to go onto the casual pool with NSW Health. I thought those forms were for this job, but no, it turns out that for this contract I'm actually being employed by the University of Sydney. Go figure.
And I'm exhausted because at 10.45pm last night, just as we were thinking we might go to bed, we heard the three year old vomiting in her bedroom. She'd seemed a bit restless earlier in the evening but she hadn't mentioned at any of my earlier visits that she was feeling unwell, so she had no vomit bucket (not that she's great at using it anyway) and there was vomit everywhere. Everywhere. She'd rolled in it, it was all through her hair, all three of her blankies were coated in it and sheets and pillows all needed washing. Not a sight you want to come across when all you really want to do is go to bed.
Vent over. Sorry, folks. That's an appalling blog post. I'd like to justify it by saying "hey, just keeping it real" but I think I'm just in a very self-pitying frame of mind today.
Would someone please put me out of my misery and tell me that life looks like this some days in their houses too?
5 comments:
Hang in there. Nothing looks good when there's vomit involved. May tonight be a better night!
More often than not my life looks like that! Always something mad going on.
Yep, I have plenty of bad-day stories too. An already bad-day that includes vomit at the end of it is pretty awful, though. I won't bore you with vomit stories, except to say that bolting while vomiting to the toilet around the corner on tiles, sliding on your own vomit and vomiting in the Lego on the way, just after you father has left for a 10 day trip to Perth and left your mother alone with you and your brothers, is also a bad story!!
Yes, we all have those days. The worst story I've known is one a friend told me. She'd gone to bed on Christmas Eve and her excitable younger sister climbed into bed with her because the power was off. Her sister was so excited about Christmas that she threw up into my friends long hair. They lived where the power drove the water pumps so there was no water to clean up!!!
Hang in there!
Oh, and a friend once told me about a projectile poo during a nappy changing session that literally hit a fan. Nasty!!
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