A Nest. One Viper.

I am in such a bad mood. Frustrated, fed up, cross, angry. GRUMPY. I don’t know if I want to hit something and scream or cry. It’s that kind of grumpiness that makes me want to petulantly shout ‘oh just fuck off’ to anyone who says anything that annoys me. And it’s that type of crossness that means anything annoys me. You see that circle there? It’s vicious alright.

It’s not proportionate to events. It’s actually quite irrational. It’s not PMT, it’s not horrendous chronic pain. It’s pent-up frustration and unspent energy. And little things irritating me that have built up through the day and exploding like a fizzy bottle shaken too much.

I wasn’t in this mood all day. I had spent a lovely morning with my Winter Boy at a softplay centre, where there was a bored looking woman doing music and dancing with the children. And, as it turns out, with me. I have no rhythm any more and I suspect this realisation that I’m no longer able to rock with the toddlers added a teensy bit of Fizz into that bottle.

I had my third Expert Patients Programme session this afternoon. R had initially asked if he could drop me off, I said I needed the car. However, while I was out shaking pompoms and I utilised my fab female skill of multitasking and mentally realised that Summer Girl finished school during this session, unlike for the last 2 sessions over Easter holidays. When I got home I agreed with R that he does in fact need the car. It was not enough that I had bowed down to his greater wisdom. No. He was now cross about having to drive me there, and pick me back up again at 4:30pm. What was he going to do while I was there, with the children? Well, the same thing you had thought of doing when you  first suggested it and it was your idea. For Fuck’s Sake. And that was another dose of fizz added.

I was late. Ok I wasn’t late, I rocked up by the skin of my teeth, but that’s not the point. Because I am on R time, not my time. That means that before we leave, he needs to make himself a cooked lunch. And I am on Winter Boy time, not my time. And this means that before we leave Winter Boy had discarded his trousers and pants never to be seen again. As R drove the car along an alternative route to try it out, which is always great when you are late, another huge dose of fizz was injected into the bottle.

The Expert Patients Programme was good. We finished early at 4:15pm. R was not on his way, he was going to be 20 mins he said. Not sure how he figured he would be picking me up at the normal finish time of 4:30pm and so, with the wind in my hair, and my bones, the fizz started to creep up towards the neck of the clearly small bottle. But as I felt it rising, rising, I made a point of not shaking it, and started to walk. R met me half way.

Now, one thing that had kept me sane all day was the prospect of going swimming. With my new goggles. and my new nose clip. I had even dug out my flip-flops for the poolside and was ultra organised. Everything was packed right down to my razor for the long hot shower afterward, everything apart from my swimming cap. That’s around somewhere right? But, as I walked to meet R, I realised I really fancy some gym time, I need to burn sweat. I have too much energy, it needs to get out. I think about music and yes, that’s what I want! Can’t wait. R has obviously picked up my iPod nano from his locker at work, where it has been living for the last 2 months, as I asked to do so this week, and he went in today for something. The fizz settled a little.

I made tea for the children, and got ready, feeling my unspent frustrations all about to be pounded away at the gym. Couldn’t find socks that match, children had been playing with my goggles and headphones and then I asked The Question. I knew the answer as the words tumbled out of my mouth and I tensed everything up waiting for the bottle to explode as the words ‘oh shit! no sorry’ left R’s lips. I cannot exercise without music. I just can’t. OK, I can, if we are going to be picky about it. But I don’t enjoy it, I can’t pace myself and it goes from being fun to being a huge chore. I spent the next hour trying desperately to download Spotify to my Smartphone, only to find it’s not that fucking smart. So, absolutely devastated, crushed, that my perfect plan fell apart, the fizz quietly spilt out of the bottle as I stopped myself from throwing the phone at the wall.

But, that wasn’t enough to ruin my plans. I would just have to  swim, with my new goggles and new nose clip. But, can I find the FUCKING SWIMMING CAP? And so my evening has actually been ruined. I can’t go swimming now. I’m too cross. The bottle has no more room, and has been shaken violently. I am so fucking cross I am not really sure what to do with myself. And because it’s not entirely rational angst, I can’t deal with it ‘sensibly’.

The best thing to do is quietly take myself off upstairs to engross myself in social media world, but as I am not rude, I tell R I am going upstairs. ‘no you’re not! Dinner is here, if you’re not going out, you got to eat, you didn’t eat lunch’. I’m not hungry, but I might be tempted ‘what is it?’ ‘fish and chips’. FISH AND FUCKING CHIPS? FFS. we had that last night! I don’t want that again. Especially as I made a special tuna with chilli and garlic, home-made chips and salad. I don’t want oven chips, spaghetti and breaded fish. Bleurgh.  And at this point, the only thing that I can do to resolve this situation is to let the fizz outa that goddamm bottle and have a full-blown Proper Strop.

The cork hit the cat, who had tried to nuzzle and suckle and irritate me, after I had stomped up the stairs, and thrown myself onto the bed in a dramatic impression of a teenager not allowed out with her friends past 9pm and so I did petulantly shout ‘oh just fuck off!’ at her.

And I am now nestled in my duvet, fluffed with pillows I still feel poisonous because things didn’t go my way. And I still haven’t got my unspent energy out.

And I’m now fucking hungry.

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Thankful Thursday – 4 More Sleeps To Go…

On Monday, we are going to Center Parcs Winter Wonderland for 5 days.

You will easily spot us. Our family will consist of 1 Mother with sparkly christmas hat, badly singing christmas songs and the top of her voice, swirling and twirling and clapping and whooping. You will see a 6-and-a-half-year-old girl with a matching hat, singing with me, dancing and twirling and touching everything she sees. You will see an Exactly-3-Year-Old, crying because mummy is insisting that he wears his very own sparkly christmas hat, and occasionally falling over as he desperately runs after us, trying to join in Mummy and Big Sister’s craziness. You will see a slightly subdued, embarrassed Father hanging slightly back, asking everyone to calm down and occasionally getting cross with the children for not doing as they are told and, likely also telling his wife off for the same thing.

We really need this break. We need to shake the negative out of this year and get ready for a positive 2013. We are going to sit by the open fire and wrap christmas presents and write out christmas cards, while drinking mulled wine as the children sleep. We are going to drink hot chocolate and eat mince pies, sing Christmas songs and watch christmas films. We are going to ride our bikes through the woodland, swim in the Tropical Paradise Pool and do a 12-Days-of-Christmas Trail. We are going to visit Father Christmas in his Woodland Workshop, have a Christmas Carvery, and maybe I might even fit in a massage or facial.

I am thankful that I booked this at the end of January 2012 to cheer me up after feeling so rotten last christmas due to serious back pain. I am thankful that I am well enough to make this holiday. Despite still struggling to shake a general feeling of unwellness (my blood hurts, how is that even possible?!) at the moment my back feels relatively stable, and although I am aware it can ‘go’ any time, I am enjoying how it is now, and just praying it will last for the holiday.

We might even have snow -how magical would that be?

 

Gone Swimming.

I am going to take the plunge so to speak. I am not going swimming because I fancy a sauna. I am not going with £30 in my pocket to be tempted by an Elemis Facial. Absolutely not. Nor to use the disabled power shower where I can actually sit and shave my legs in comfort. No way. I am going swimming to help my back pain. Yep that is right. To strengthen my core muscles and get me back on the path of physical fitness again, standing straight with no more pain. Without a doubt. And therefore I have absolutely not packed my razor, or foot pumice to groom the areas that are long-overdue some loving.

Ok. I am doing all those things. But I have a good reason. There is absolutely no point going to the gym and getting changed to swim 6 lengths and get changed again just to home. I have to make full use of my membership seeing as I have just re-activated it after they kindly froze it for a few months. Seeing as I am now paying again, it has to be worth the money right?  And getting my foot in the door, that is halfway to getting fit again isn’t it? and sitting in the sauna watching those long distance swimmers keep on going, well that gives me motivation to aim towards my 1 mile swim next year.  And relaxing afterwards, reading the newspaper eating a healthy jacket potato and drinking coffee in their lovely quiet cafe, with no children or housework to think about, that is an important time to reflect on my swimming achievement and first step to recovering from my back problems.

…just going to have a quick coffee first…