I've had the major rats this week (not another week, surely, I hear you ask). My lovely child who is normally so chilled and fun to be around has turned into a bit of a nightmare. I was going to call her an asshole but, y'know, bad mother's do that (eye roll), her behaviour has been an asshole (better?). Can you tell I'm gunning for someones, anyones, guts today? Call it general four year old bullshit, call it the transitional phase, big changes... call it what you want, it doesn't make it any sweeter and to be honest I'm pretty over it.
Today I have sent a shitty email to my local MP about some wanker parking on the main path on the way to school meaning I have to cross a dangerous road EVERY DAY that has no crossing, just lots of blind spots and raging traffic every morning because the school run turns people into dicks. I've scowled at the traffic warden who couldn't do anything about said wanker, death stared at the idiot who bumped into me because she was too busy looking at her phone to notice my huge pregnant ass walking along the path, tutted at the idiotic teenage boy who almost ran Lil over on his bike GET OFF THE FUCKING PATH YOU LITTLE SHIT and sighed and sighed and sighed at everyone else because... PEOPLE.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm well aware I'm lucky these are my only problems (as well as chronic heartburn and a vagina threatening to fall out). I'm very aware. But it doesn't mean I'm not going to moan about them because they are my problems and I'm British so I'm going to complain.
everything hurts
37 weeks is approaching and I've been thinking of ways I can kick start this little monkey into getting her ass out of me. EVICTION NOTICE. I mean, if she doesn't come on the next full moon and I end up being wrong I'm going to be pretty disappointed. The moon is always screwing me over so I thought perhaps she could do me a favour just this once and use her moony vibes to help me get my body back.
Screaming, non-sleeping newborn tiredness has to be better than a challenging four year old and her teenage attitude, it has to be. At least I'll get a few weeks off the school run (that has only just started, I know) to spend snuggling with a baby who probably won't want to sleep but can't answer back (the only difference being Lil can, sleep seems to be pretty erratic with her right now).
I know I don't have long left, please don't keep telling me. I'm sore and tired and weepy and ragey and the end feels like it's never going to come. Just send me all your eviction vibes and pray that next weekend I'll be swept up in the newborn tired fog all smiley and exhausted with an intact vagina...
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