The Way the Cookie Crumbles

I’m bloody annoyed at myself. Bloody annoyed. I ruined today. A whole day with my 2 favourite people in the world and I moped about, not knowing what to do with myself, feeling generally sorry for myself for no particular reason. Most of the morning my darling boys were taking every opportunity to screech (Rufus) or hit their brother (Edgar). If they weren’t doing that they were ganging up on me, begging for cookies to add crumbs down the sides of the sofas and to my neglected living room carpet, or asking to watch toy bloody Thomas trains on television.

Fortunately today I discovered a way to ensure they play beautifully together for a nice long time, the method is to cry. Yup, at approximately 2.30pm this afternoon I lost my cable knitting needle and cried. Like a baby. I couldn’t find the fucking thing anywhere and I’d only had it just before lunch, I had a headache, I needed a wee, I was hunting like a mad woman, I’d stuffed my hands down every skanky, crumb-filled sofa crevice and no one was helping me. I was attempting to eat only healthy things, I was forcing myself to have a nice relaxing day with my boys, but it wasn’t happening. The screeching, hitting and shit TV were prevailing, and the loss of a stupid needle brought tears. I ate a whole packet of Milky Way Magic Stars, out of date ones from BnM, 39ps worth of anger management gone in seconds. As I sat on the floor crying, admitting cable needle defeat, the boys thought I was playing and laughed at me, admittedly I’m not a cryer so it’s more likely that I was fooling around, but I wasn’t, I was sad! When that dawned on them, the poor loves didn’t know what to do, they skulked off and played happily in the garden, I was left to chug the tears out alone. I gathered myself eventually and sat on the sofa staring out the window, the boys slunk past to go and play upstairs. Then they reappeared…

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“Daddy will make you feel better Mummy,” said Ruru, whilst Eddie insanely waved Daddy’s toy owlie infront of me. They were attempting, and succeeding in cheering me up. We chatted and I explained I felt sad, which is different to cross, but that I was sorry I’d got cross. And I felt guilty, guilty they’d been exposed to that trauma. But as I reflect, as I write, I realise perhaps being exposed to such raw, ridiculous and normal (it’s normal right?) human emotion isn’t so bad?

They’re not wrong Daddy did cheer me up, he found the lost needle, and sitting at my desk drawing silly cats helped me feel like I’d produced something other than tears, and the boys continued to play nicely, for a while anyway. I’m still annoyed that I ruined today, but hey that’s the way the cookie crumbles right? Ooh cookie, yes please!

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