Mentions of Menstruation

It's been a busy weekend, the kind where I have been a hormonally mega crazy woman from hell with a big bloaty tummy and a grumpface. I got my period.  Every time the girls see my mooncup or its contents, they ask if I am having a baby.

In ye olden times in the caves and such, women who were menstruating took time out of their lives and rested and reflected and chilled.  Menstruation was a sacred time.  A relaxing time. A time to listen to your body and follow the ebb and flow of emotions and feelings.

The chances of this happening round here are fairly slim but as its the weekend, I get to lie in a bit longer which is blissful if not a little noisy on Sunday from the girls running around shrieking. All.  The. Time. uber excited that its Mothers Day and checking if I have woken up yet.

Ellie slept at grandmas on Friday night so Saturday morning was quiet and peaceful, mainly because I gave Maia my phone with YouTube and sent her back to her bedroom!! Somehow the day just frittered away in a mass of nothingness and unproductiveness.  Hubby took up the slack on dishes duty and we muddled through rather effectively...until.....Saturday night's bedtime fun.  Its a new game, its been played once before.  I was feeling too bleugh to remember details from last time except that they really enjoyed it.  This time too, I couldn't help but revel in their joy of this game.....until....I remembered.  It involves pretty much ALL their clothes.  Which of course, end up ALL over the floor.

Sunday morning rolls around.  The 'quiet' lie in happens.  The girls hand out their cards and eat my toblerone gift and then they decide to do a jumble sale of their toys. So, ALL their toys are brought out to inspect and decide if they are being sold.  So now, the upstairs is covered in ALL their clothes, the downstairs is covered in ALL their toys and the kitchen is covered in ALL our dishes.  Happy Mother's Day indeed.

The whole of Sunday was spent restoring the house.  The girls trawl the neighbours with their jumble in a basket and come back with a ton of money and a full basket.  It turns out that after no success selling her wares, Ellie decides to collect for charity instead and tells people she is collecting for cancer!! I'm slightly shocked and amazed at her ingenuity.  She realises she cant keep the money and takes the news very well!!

We attend a family party in the evening which was really lovely, but by now, after Tidying Sunday (not Mothering Sunday), I am knackered and in pain in my back and front and just curl up on the sofa and scowl.  

I'm such a joy to be around!

Meltdowns - none

Losing the Plot - just a wee one honest guv!

Breastfeeding - feels so different at this time of the month.  How amazingly weird are hormones??

Scooby flying fig Doo

I am so over Scooby Doo.  I must say I am a bit miffed at this.  I used to love Scooby Doo as a kid, I remember it fondly.  Now it bugs the crap out of me, even if I am in the kitchen doing other stuff, if one of the kids mentions they want to watch Scooby Doo I am not shy in letting them know how much I DON'T want to have it on...but they still watch it.  

I am ashamed to say, I was almost relieved today when a bit of Preppy Pigshite came on. I almost felt nostalgic for the Freaky Pig Family.  That was until Daddy Pig pissed me off with his interminable happiness and laughing at every sodding thing...I mean FFS is Daddy Pig on something, because there is no way he could be that tra-la-la all the time? I'm thinking Mummy pig is in on the action too.  Its just not representative of my household and G-d Dammit it makes me mad.  I want to roll about in shit and eat crap all day long and laugh at everything and not give a fuck *or as they say in politer societies a flying fig). I guess I'll have to settle for the mess and crap food, two out of three ain't bad.  

I reckon there could be sufficient audience pressure to turn Daddy and Mummy Pig into  snorting snivelling messes at least once.  Audience pressure managed to make sure Peppa and George were always strapped in.  What do you say? Are you with me? Shall I start another page?  I think I might anyway.

Yes I am over Scooby Doo, doesn't mean the girls are.....so however much I bemoan that I don't want to watch Scooby Doo, I don't interfere or force my choice...much.  Occasionally I put up such a stink that they relent and put something else on...the danger there is that it could be Alvin and the sodding chipmunks...who is Dave and why is he parenting three chipmunks anyway, it just doesn't make sense!!!

There have also been occasions when the true meaning of turn taking occurs (not the one where the girls choose for me) and I get to watch something I want to watch.  Those are rare though...I'm hoping its an age thing!!  I don't think I could live in this family if I didn't get MY choice once in a while..is that too much to ask??!!!  I'm patient *cough*. I can wait.

Also, in keeping with their love of Scooby Doo, because despite my protests, I still think its important to show an interest in my kids interests,  I am making supreme efforts to have a Scooby Doo themed party for Ellie also without going unbelievably over the top.    Thankfully Ellie has thus far asked for a werewolf, then vampire, then strawberry, then who knows what, she is impossible at making up her mind and I ought to tell her I am utterly useless at making anything thats not round or variation of the round I have just made.

Meltdowns - often but minimal
Losing the Plot - often but hormonally slanted
Breastfeeding - strangely completely stopped, I should probably write about that