Diary of a Desperate Wife and Mother - aged 35...and a half

Did I Mention That We Have A Cat Too

Tuesday

Scarlett's spot cleared up which is good news for us all because honestly she is a bit of a madam when things aren't perfect. I remember being just like her which makes it kind of difficult to get really mad with her...although I do manage it from time to time and when I do it's real fireworks. Paul has no such problem he flips at Scarlett's sulks, tantrums and downright rudeness but for the most part my husband is a calm presence.

Work was better, I remembered my purse and bought a bacon bap from the caravan on the car park outside of the shop. I was supposed to be eating more healthily this week, but the king size Mars bar I ate after the bap sealed my fate for today.

When I got home today I cleaned the windows. I had no intention of cleaning them but the cat, did I mention we have a cat too? Well we do and she has a bit of a cold at the moment and she managed to make her way around every room upstairs and sneezed across all of the windows, which translates to, snotted up every window. She also did the same to the full length mirrors that cover the wardrobes in our bedroom so I cleaned them too. Well, I say cleaned, it was more a case of I removed the cat snot but the mirrors and all the windows are now a mass of smears which wasn't my fault, it was the sun shining on them that did it.

The dog missed out on an afternoon walk as the windows took so long. I apologised and although he is considered overweight by the vet I gave him a couple of doggy sausages in recompense, doggy sausages as in sausages for dogs, not sausages made of dog...I know, that makes no sense, but hey, I want to lose a stone and ate a bacon bap and a king size chocolate bar so who am I to judge his extra padding or his love of treats. By the time I got to school for Finn I realised that my sporty outfit of leggings, trainers and long sleeved t-shirt are not conveying sporty and I will not be welcomed into the fold of the gym mums. My t-shirt seems to have a mark on the right boob, and if I am honest it's not a fresh mark, it's a stain, tea or food of some description and my leggings...they are covered in dog and cat hair and as they're black there's no disguising them. I make a mental note to put a lint roller in the hall, on the table near the door. That one will be in addition to the one in the kitchen, the conservatory, my bedroom, the car and my work locker. Bloody animal hair gets everywhere. I stand alone for a while until Gemma appears and even she looks taken aback by my appearance and as I explain about the cat and dog rubbing themselves up me and my earlier cleaning of snot the head together mum, Monique appears and clearly hears enough to cause her to sneer at me, maybe she missed the bit about the snot belonging to the cat and simply thinks my family are in the habit of snotting everywhere.

I am relieved that the teacher, Mrs Forbes sends Finn out first because I am desperate to get away, although it does mean that everyone is privy to his cry of, "Mum, Robert (his friend) was sick today and it came down his nose!" My son was beyond impressed by that.

Mrs Forbes did call after him not to forget to practise his spellings which essentially told the other parents that he needs to practise, which he does because he finds spelling hard, but I am sure by the time I get home that she, the bloody teacher has told all the other mums that my son is a bit thick or that he has a problem, which he doesn't, I don't think, oh shit, what if he does? I now know that I will have a sleepless night worrying about some kind of learning difficulty and future lowering of education and career prospects.

I made a lasagne for dinner that I served with salad...Paul and the kids wondered why we didn't have chips with it, apparently everyone else has chips with lasagne and clearly I am depriving them of a vital dietary requirement. Briefly I questioned if that is why my son can't spell.

After tea and Finn's bath we did the bloody spellings and despite several explanations about their, there and they're my son is none the wiser. He asked all the way to bed time why we couldn't just have one spelling and my reply of 'because we don't' seemed inadequate, so inadequate that he refused a bedtime story because 'he's not friends with the English language'. After kissing him goodnight he asked for his Dad. Honestly, if he is relying on Paul to clarify the variations on spellings we are all doomed.

My husband was more than happy to go up to Finn because that meant he couldn't walk the dog meaning muggings got that job. I considered the offer of another sausage, or a biscuit, maybe even a slice of ham from the fridge instead but as Paul had playfully slapped my behind as he passed me and I was convinced the aftershocks were still rippling I decided that was a bad idea, for us both.

The dog was happy to go out, although I don't go into the park once it's dark, which is why Paul normally does last walk so we walked round the block instead. By the time we were on our way back up the garden path I was almost ready to smile and then I heard the crushing sound of a snail underfoot meaning I had killed a snail and his remains were now spread across my shoe...perfect end to a perfect day really.