I get up, the cat tries to kill me on the stairs by weaving in and out of my legs, I put the kettle on, feed the rabbit, make a brew and proceed to get myself ready for the day.
Now, I don’t know what arrangements some of you guys have, but for us, my children are with their dad on a weekend, which means the majority of the time, I wake up on a Saturday morning…. Alone. *weeps in to green tea*
I get up, the cat tries to kill me on the stairs by weaving in and out of my legs, I put the kettle on, feed the rabbit, make a brew and proceed to get myself ready for the day.
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Recently, I've moved bedtime forward a bit to make sure they're ready and refreshed for school the next day. They broke up from school seven days ago… and I’m already losing the will to live. I don’t understand where my darling children have gone, and why they’ve been replaced by havoc wreaking demons! I mentioned the bomb going off in the living room toy box the other day, well this morning, after waking up with a headache and a cold, I was faced with a train set tripping hazard on the hallway, which just happens to be in between my bedroom and the bathroom. After standing on two little trees, stubbing my toe on a train station and then tripping over the bridge, I knew I was all set up for a very bad day indeed.
Firstly I must apologize for seemingly disappearing off the face of the earth this week. I’ve been struggling to find time to write in between MMR boosters, bombing the house, pill checks (I’ve lost half a stone by the way! High five me!), bonfire night and a generally unwell little princess. Secondly, I’m going to touch on a subject which people seem to forget about. A subject which lies close to my heart. I can’t fault the media for raising awareness of this topic every now and again, but it seems to be that as soon as its coverage has finished, it’s forgotten. It’s that age old out of sight, out of mind scenario. The topic today is PND. Post Natal Depression. |
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