The last few days have been very difficult.
Olly has been a complete pain. He is not happy at school at the moment and wont speak about it. (Typical autistic trait). He is so moody, it's like he's walking around with a black thundercloud above his head - all the time!
He has to be encouraged and cajoled to do anything - even to go to the loo. He would be quite happy just to sit in front of the telly or the computer imitating a Buddha for 24 hours a day.
I am absolutely exhausted with the amount of patience I have to constantly exhibit - when all I want to do is scream with sheer frustration.
Hubby has conveniently had to visit San Fransisco for the weekend (Oh, honey, I have a great idea. Lets get married, have kids and I'll sod off working abroad and leave you with the kids 24/7. that'll be nice, wont it?).
Being completely side-tracked by the event of the last few days, I completely forgot it was a Bank Holiday, which means no school on Monday. School is the only respite I get so I'm pissed off.
The kids cant be left in a room together for any length of time because they argue and start fighting. This is every minute of every day. Never do I get any peace when they are at home together. Never.
I can only put it down to Karma and the fact that because I enjoyed myself so much in my twenties, that I have relinquished any 'rights to fun' whatsoever for my thirties and my forties. High price to pay!
My friend Lou managed to shift her kids to the Grandparents for the weekend so she could have a break with her 'Dandy'. Unfortunately for me there are no Grandparents.
Maybe I should put an ad in the paper:
Loving Grandparents required for two uncontrollable little monsters. Tendency to shout, bicker, argue and fight, however good rates of pay with free muzzle accessories provided.
It has got to the point where I cannot sleep and just pick at my food, even nibbling on a little bit of chocolate makes me feel sick, which is most unusual!
I was crying into the chili I was making this evening, when 'Swiss' the student walked in. I had to pretend it was an acute case of hayfever.
Maybe I should have gone out with a 'bang' in my twenties with some illicit sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll story:
Pretty, slim, blonde, 22, found naked in pop star's apartment. Judging by the smile on the girl's face and the big, fat joint in her hand it is believed that she went happily after a night of boozing, drugging and frolicking. Detectives declined to comment on the grin.
The haggered woman with bleached hair originally identified as being 225 years old was in fact 40. The heart attack was believed to have been brought on by the extreme stress of having naughty children and a husband who preferred to work rather than take her out. She was only identified by the tattoo on her forehead which said 'wipe your feet here'.
I wish I had known at 22 what my life held for me at 40.