I'm in the blahs, but not a bad blah, just a blah. I'm busy, running everywhere and being something to everyone, and I'm getting kind of blah about it. You know, blah this blah that. I'm starting week five of this plateau and it's giving me serious blahs, even though I've jacked up my workouts and changed my eating a bit, still not lost an ounce in five weeks. Went to the doctor about it and he said it's normal, just keep going. Serious fucking sigh blah.
The kids are growing and changing and happy, which is great, but you know, blah. I've watched the same DVDs over and over I can recite Monsters Inc, Howl's moving Castle and Kiki's delivery service from memory now, so blah. Sassy finishes school in a few weeks, and I'm not sure what we'll do with ourselves, no I mean, I'm not sure what I'm going to do. It'll cost us £88pm to put the two of them in the creche while I go to the gym, and I'm worried it'll be considered an excessive expense - I hope not, but I just don't know. I may have to change to night time gym visits for those 6 weeks of school vacation. Why can't the UK have summer camps? I mean there's tons of land that really could do with a few wood cabins, a swimming pool, a lake, perhaps a horse camp too; lots of ideas but will it everhappenn? Not unless I win the lottery...hear me angels of fortune; I'll build a fun camp for kids if you let me win the lottery. Think about it, ok?
Shortie, who was so keen to use the toilet a few weeks ago, has lost interest and now demands a nappy instead. Sigh-de-blahdy-blah-blah. Plus, she's still winning the battle of the midnight milk. She's still not able to sleep through the night with consistency. If she wakes, she whines, moans and fake cries until I give her a cup of milk. If I don't give in, she'll moan and whine "miwk! miwk!" for HOURS! Damned Taurus kids. But that's it, I'm not giving in tonight or ever again. The mantra for today is "No milk in bed!" and we'll be saying no milk in bed a lot over the next week until she realises she'll not be given milk in bed anymore. You should've seen the size of her nappy this morning, it was so full of pee it was hanging from her hips by the straps and dangling down below her knees. Her pajamas were soaked, her bed was soaked and she's obviously not dehydrated, so she's not needing milk in bed. Half a cup of water, and she can sleep with that and leave me alone! I'm 34, I need my sleep or I'll begin to pickle.
I've been walking pat bushes of gorgeous lilacs and very tempted to rend a few branches to put in the house, and today I did it, they were just so pretty! I brought them home, snipped the ends, arranged them in vases and enjoyed them for about a half an hour before I realised: They Stink! They don't have that lovely sweet lilac scent, they small like bad garlic. They now reside in the garden where they'll rot and die. I've been naughty and it serves me right to pick public plants.
And my period is due and all the Hubs keeps saying to me is "Are you trying to pick a fight with me?" and I'm not! But geez folks, blah. If anything, he's picking the fights, he's the one pushing buttons and being a condescending dinkus. I give some back and it's *me* picking the fights - what's wrong with you menfolks?! Seriously, he's baiting me to give him a nasty Indian Burn (they're also called Chinese burns, but I don't know what you could call them that wouldn't sound somewhat racist? Twisty-skin burns doesn't sound right.)
So. There. Blah. I'm going to play Harvest Moon: It's a Wonderful Life until I die. Well, in the game I die, not me really die, that would be bad.