It was my birthday on Wednesday, and as much as I wasn’t in the humour of celebrating because I couldn’t see a thing I had a great day with the gremlins. They made me breakfast in bed and ate it too. They cleaned the playroom before school then wrecked it again just before we left. They sent me flowers and ate the accompanying chocolates. Joe even organised the family together for a cake that evening, I ate it with a fork (more…)
I know I have a bun in the oven but bloody hell I’m roasting. It’s sweating outside. It’s sweating inside. It’s sweating in the car. It’s sweating in the shower. There’s no escaping it. The heat is killing me. It’s sticky, there’s no breeze, my sun cream is melting off my arm, I cannot cope. I’m hormonal in general but today I sobbed hysterically for a good ten minutes just because I was just too warm. The five year old thinks I’ve lost the plot altogether. I have though, I’m giving out about summer, the sun and the sun in summer in Ireland.