Work

So I'm back at work for a few weeks to help out - one day in the office and one day from home. Thought I'd share with you what going to work means to a mother of a 3 year old and a 6 month old.

Drinking my coffee in the manner in which it is served ie hot
Going to the bathroom without an audience
Eating without having share my lunch with the gaping maw that is the eldest
40 minutes of uninterrupted quiet time on the bus to work
And 40 minutes of uninterrupted quiet time on the bus home from work
Wearing clothes for an entire day without getting baby-puke on them
Wearing makeup that is not applied in the car en route to somewhere
Getting in an elevator without having to check that any part of my entourage gets stuck in the door
A day without tears (mostly)
Talking to other adults without a small monster swinging on your leg saying 'mummy, mummy, mummy, mummy'

Ahhhh, happy days. Did I also mention that I get PAID to show up? And my workmates say thankyou *AND* please without prompting.

Things I Hate (and I hate a lot of things so this is the abridged version from today).

The 'sent from my iPhone' message that appears on my emails.
Leggings worn under a normal length skirt.
Cheap shoes that allow the wearer foot to roll inwards.
Trousers meant to be worn with flat shoes that are teamed with high
heels and result in pants flapping around the ankle.
Beige. Tan. Biscuit.
People with complicated coffee orders.
People who read the newspaper on the bus.
Dyed black hair (unless you are under the age of 21 and are doing
'alternative').
iPods too loud for the earplugs to contain the noise.
Small dogs that bark a lot.
Sub-standard bakeries.
Smokers.
Palm trees.
Not being in charge of the world.
Phone shops.

So, still channeling the rage here then.

Honestly ....

I'd rather you were honest than polite. If I invite you somewhere, or
offer to help with something, and you don't want to go or just plain
don't want my help, just say so. Really, it's much easier for
everyone. Not replying to my emails just makes me cross, a simple 'no
thanks' is all it takes and I won't take it personally (well, I'll do
my best not to take it personally).

Chatterbox

I'm in the bathroom getting ready for work. The MonkeyFish comes in
with a banana. You'd better ask Dadda if you eat that, say I. So he
wanders over to Mark, Dadda, can I have a banana? Of course you can,
MonkeyFish, says Dadda. I have one here, says the MonkeyFish,
producing the banana from behind his back where he has stashed it.

Nothing to see here, now move along.

I'd like to say that I've been busy doing exciting and fascinating things but that would be untrue. Everybody is either sick, getting sick or recovering from being sick. The MonkeyFish is on his second round of the same cold, Ponyboy has Bronchiolitis and I have viral conjunctivitis in my right eye. Buster is infuriatingly well.

We were meant to be going to Melbourne this weekend for a wedding but Ponyboy probably won't be ok to fly so Buster will be going on his own. Very disappointed as I actually fit into my dress and even bought new, staggeringly high heels to wear. But better to stay home than for Ponyboy to get sick again.

I haven't even been reading any books I can tell you about. Ponyboy is also on meds for reflux so I haven't been getting enough sleep to make reading feasible. I haven't even been cooking anything as I've been on rations to lose weight to fit into my fancy frock.

I can talk about the new Doctor Who though - I don't love him but I do like him. I like him than the before last but I guess following Mr Tennant is a bit rough.