Pulling My Hair Out

"Bake Day" is all well and good, until it's finished. By which time, my kitchen is a mess (baking the creations), my front room floor is a mess (eating the creations) and both kids are screaming over each other for a drink. I've been treated with zero respect today and i'm worn out. Baby E.M is being miserable and J.R is having trouble concentrating on me, or even acknowledging me when i'm talking to her. They wont play nicely together, if left in their room together, within five minutes one will be crying and the other one will be looking guilty.

Meanwhile downstairs there's a pile of washing up in the sink that looks like I haven't touched it in three days when it was all done this morning. The whole place needs hoovering again - mess travels - and the clothes need to be hung out to dry. Whoever came up with the definition of the "stay at home mum" as a lazy, money scrounging, ready-meal eating, couch potato needs a kick in the arse. This is the hardest job i've ever done, and if that's the way they want to define it now, it looks like i'm missing out.