You know what I mean. I mean thinking up a think, writing up writing and posting up a post. It’s a lot of work for my poor, ancient, befuddled brain. That is already fully occupied with trying to work out what language Alex might be speaking, and even more confusing does she have a point. Then the most terrifying question of them all; if I smile and nod, how bad will be the resultant disaster that I have just approval actually be?
I have a hard life! I mean there is the recalcitrent sofa that keeps trying to run away. Of course it’s trying to escape, why else would the dogs and I have to sit on it ALL the time? What are you suggesting?
Then there are the children, my youngest just turned 21, and you know what a delicate age that can be; the late night feeding, the bottles everywhere, cleaning up their messes.
And the eldest is still in that difficult stage where she doesn’t want to get out of bed in the morning, she hasn’t quite gotten the hang of dressing herself, but she has a tantrum when her independence is questioned.
The middle two are still struggling with learning to speak, feeding themselves and all forms of self care. I look forward to the day when any of them grow up, but as all parents know that can take a long time. And after all they are still little children.
Can you imagine a world where little 21 and 31 year olds toddled around in the real world, making decisions, not calling Mummy and Daddy every few hours to tattle on their siblings? Neither can I. Ludicrous!
And I have my own problems. Christmas looms and my poor husband is overwhelmed and distraught at the work that needs to be done. Ignoring his distress is seriously impinging on my concentration, and catching him to do things for ME is getting more tricky.
And now I have to write something. I mean using my precariously overworked but still scintilatingly brilliant mind, and then I have to type with my poor aching fingers. Allergy has turned to inflammation, I hate Spring. With Spring comes flowers, flowers mean pollen, that slow acting poison the plants are deliberately using to turn animal life into fertillizer.
I mean its too hard. I don’t care what I promised.
THERE WILL BE NO POST, Today.
Wait! I could post this. Nobody is reading anyway. And anyone reading my stuff isn’t expecting anything good.
LOOK, I wrote another post.
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