There has to be a better way

On days like today, I want to pack up and move to somewhere cheap, finish my degree, tack a dip ed on the end and get myself a job as a teacher. Crash can make clocks. And I won't have to have days like today.

I woke up at 4am with tonsillitis. The throat was the least of it, every joint in my body is killing me. And I knew I had to work all day today, regardless of how I felt. It was stressful work, and it was interspersed with even more stressful work. I took Ben to gymnastics because it meant a break - well, except for the phone calls.

And tomorrow I have a lot more work to do, and I probably won't be able to take Elissa to day care because of the conjunctivitis. We are probably going to have to play pass the baby parcel as we both have work to do in the city.

It was going so well

Crash gets back tomorrow evening. I was doing well. I made it through my first night alone with only a few nightmares and "things that go bump in the night" adrenaline attacks. I survived Wednesday and yesterday was good. This morning I once again got up on time, and nearly had all the lunches done when Ben appeared downstairs.

Him: "I had an accident."

Me: "Where?" (Thinking it is literally years since this kid had an accident)

Him: "In my room." (Looking wretched)

Me: "How much of an accident?" (Thinking small dribble)

Him: "Like a swimming pool."

He wasn't far from the mark. His room is carpeted. Two full sized towels followed by Spray&Wipe and I suspect I will need to organise carpet cleaners in the near future.

The day moved on OK, although all my motivation drowned in that swimming pool. Good thing a got a lot done yesterday. Although I had better keep going with the washing.

One of those days...

The day started well. I got up on time, had a shower, did the quick clean of the bathroom and managed to throw some clothes on before having to feed the baby. Made porridge for all, remembered to give the baby breakfast (apple and rice cereal). After that it all started to go to pot. I don't really know why.

By the time I got out the door, I was stressed and it was later than I was hoping for. I was going to Campbelltown (just over half an hour away in good traffic) for the day and I needed to exchange something at a shopping centre, take the baby to the doctor and get my hair cut/coloured. Because I was late, I didn't have time to go to the shopping centre first, so I ended up killing some time at Grandma's shop. I then headed off to the doctors, only to discover that in the chaos, I had left my wallet at home.

I rang home and got the Medicare number and doctor accepted that. Then the doctor informed me that the baby couldn't be healthier - but for that cough she's had for two weeks. The right answer, but it just meant I needn't have gone.

So then it's feed the baby again and rush off to the hairdresser, where I discover that they made a mistake and had booked me in for tomorrow. Apparently my face was quite clear on the subject of coming back tomorrow, and they fitted my in. The only problem was that this meant the entire exercise took 3hrs rather than 2.

So then it's feed the baby again and rush off to the shopping centre. That all goes well. I get back in the car and head home, leaving myself 45 minutes for a half hour trip. Yeah right. 45 minutes later I have travelled about 5km. Total trip about an hour and a half. Did I mention that Elissa screamed all the way through the traffic jam, and Charlie tried to talk to me the whole time too?

Why would anyone want to work full time?