I was an “easy-o-sy” baby according to my grandmother.
And I’ve generally aged into an “easy-o-sy” 50-year-old.
But there are some single mum mornings that push me that little bit too far.
Yesterday was one of them
I woke up at 5am and was too stressy to get back to sleep. To keep the house quiet for the exhausted skipper, I lay in bed looking at Facebook and Instagram for a few hours, then forced myself out from under the warm covers to have a shower.
At 7am I woke the eldest for the first time. Then again at 7.10, then again at 7.20 with loud sound effects.
By the time the eldest emerged from the bathroom, the schedule was seriously screwed, so I drove to a bus stop closer to their destination.
As we were driving, I glanced sideways at the massive shiner the eldest is sporting, which had been joined by blue lips after they were dared by a friend on Skype to ingest blue food dye.
Wasn’t getting a face full of bruises and a possibly fractured hand enough teenage stupidity for one week?
Obviously not. I am so looking forward to Parent-Teacher Night next week, introducing myself as the mother of that kid, the one they’ve been wondering whether to call DOCs about.
Then I drove home and rousted the grumpy, tired and sore youngest out of the house.
The youngest chose that moment to announce I needed to go to Spotlight before Wednesday to get her a bobbin and white thread for school.
How the freaking hell was I going to get to Spotlight by then? How?
Deep breaths. Googles “nearest sewing supplies”.
I dropped her off at the school gate and headed to work. Two blocks later I got a panicked phone call announcing she had forgotten to pack socks for skipping training and could I go home and get some and drop them to a friend’s house who lives near skipping training.
No. I. Could. Not.
And that’s the point I kinda lost my shit and my voice got a bit shrill on speaker phone.
It took me hours to get my zen back.
I started feeling myself again around lunch time, after sourcing a bobbin a few blocks down the road and buying myself a tub of Ben & Jerry’s on the way back to the office.
I never buy tubs of Ben & Jerry’s at lunchtime. Freaking teenagers, driving me to sugar.
Song of the day: Fine Young Cannibals “She drives me crazy”