Ok… soo….My BELOVED KITCHEN KNIFE… given as a wedding gift (and part of a 6 group) … has randomly disappeared in the last week. Disappeared. How does a knife just get up and leave an apartment? Its a KNIFE for fucks sake?!
I mean, where does it go? Is it also having Sundays off and forgot to come home until “2 for 1” hour was over? Is it sitting on a beach somewhere in Repulse Bay, waiting for its owner/mates? Is it meeting up with other knives on its day off and talking about how bad I am as a knife owner? I don’t care. The point is…how does it disappear? Its become a conundrum… *FYI…Photo below of a Rubix cube (being an 80’s child n’ all) seemed my only way of showing a conundrum…
Now…. I know what you’re thinking....”this crazy bitch has faaaar too much time on her hands to wonder where the frigg this knife has disappeared to…” but seriously… WHERE IS IT?!?!?
How do you lose a sharp (and I mean, “Plastic Surgeon” sharp) knife in an apartment….with three kids…under the age of 3 years old (yes…. don’t remind me)?
I’m worried that (a) its been used to cut something (usually celotape, post, Park n Shop deliveries) and forgotten about in our apartment…now lurking for an inevitable eye/leg/police report when “Mummy was drunk” injury with my kids…or (b) its off in Kowloon or Wan Chai…working the tables… earning some cash… never to return again….unless its on Asiaexpat with tales of abuse. How does a kitchen knife, that lives in a block of knives, disappear? Seriously….its annoying the shit out of me. Stay at home Mum or working Mum… this is really irritating me.
Plus…lets be honest. I know, that knife was taken out on a day off, or maybe while out with the kids (Chinese kids are harsh in the playground….c’mon) but just ADMIT you took it. I kinda get why people who go mad while interrogating some criminal suspect loses it (when they know someone is lying….)… you just want them to admit the truth. i.e.. “I took the knife out with my friends to demonstrate my karate/kung fu skills while working with my English/Iranian (obviously terrorist) family and accidentally killed someone, so I tossed it in Wan Chai, and its never to be seen again”. I would accept that.
But did I get an explanation? Nope. My Helpers response (No.2) “ Knife? There was another knife? In that block? Really Madam… Are you sure your drunken eyes don’t deceive you?”
My response… “Yes, that bright pink knife with the Mickey Mouse motif (from Japan Homes...love that place), does not match all the black ones. Did you take it out? Please just tell me so I can stop the stupid search.” Helpers response (No.2, not favourite number.1… “No…maybe you lost it when you were drinking Maaam…”
In the last week, what have I been doing? Aside from scratching my arse, irritating the Help/Kids/Husband/neighbours… Ive been looking for a knife. A knife. We know its gone for good (no one but me seems to be searching for it,which is always a sign it’s buried in the backyard under the rose-bush (if you live in Sai Kung), where our neighbours dog continues to sniff)…. but I just need to know where it is.
That is what my life has become. I think I need to go back to work….
On a separate note, something has occurred in the last 2 weeks…Scratchy (Twin B…Bigger twin.Boy) has regressed with the potty training situation. Has anyone else experienced this?
I am going out of my mind with the smell of shit. I actually walk away from situations rather than lecture/talk/discuss in-depth as now, it just sounds stupid. I don’t think my Son gets it.
For a start, I think he only speaks Filipino. Seriously. All my kids do. Well, that, Farsi and bits of English. Thank the Lord for help. If I was home..I’d be losing the Mummy plot and probably (if I’m honest) screaming, about it after months of books/talks/potty training etc). I mean, I have sat there…with a stupid arse book about a dog doing a shit in a toilet. I also learned (myself yes, embarrassing) where shit goes. I mean…. really….I need to being cooing and aching over this shit (literally)? Fuck off!!!!
I think, since I discovered having help (the twins were 8 months so I was used to doing everything alone…plus I had to look after The Captain too). I know, because I’m sooo spoilt…I can’t even stomach the smell of vomit, bad runny shit and anything that looks like an angry bully of a Chinese kid in a playground (seriously… I HATE horrible kids. The piss me off).
Our Helpers here are like family. We are so blessed. Anyhow…. after a few in-depth conversations with my three-year olds (last resort), I assumed, everyone understood that crapping in our Pampers pull-ups was a huge “no-no”.
Apparently, my Son didn’t get the memo…and then chose to smirk whenever there was a “mishap“. Something that gets under my skin and makes me want to scream/punch a Smurf/shout at The Captain later. A smirk at the age of 3? What the fuck is going to happen at 15? Bring it on son, bring it on.
You have no idea who your parents used to be. I alone was a fucking nightmare, the Captain? There are stories going back to the 80’s which I can’t even print. Our kids have NO IDEA who they are messing with. The fools.
My Son has suddenly started shitting and pissing…well…everywhere. I don’t even think he realises its about to happen until…well… you know “touching cloth” happens. He then walks around like a Sumo wrestler waiting to take a dump. We discovered him peeing the other day by our swimming pool (not private) but in a hedge none the less. Apparently “Daddy said it was ok“. The Captain denies all knowledge. I pretended he wasn’t mine.
Anyhow…his sister… the smaller one…4lbs 9 oz … The one I always worried about. I still ALWAYS worry about because of her coughs and hospital visits for asthma related issues (2 visits in the past year, sleeping next to her cot, 4 or 5 days minimum, she can’t catch her breath)…. she’s fine with the whole potty situation. I thought she would be the one to keep an eye on.
She’s now, going off, with an encyclopaedia (in Mandarin, written backwards) and screams she’s done a “big poo” so we can go get her for the joyful cleanup. Our daughter now thinks that she needs to announce every dump, to everyone.
And because she has a huge bunch of Shirley Temple curls…everyone wants to help. I’ve seen people run across public toilets to assist wiping my daughters arse. Very disconcerting. We explained to our little girl that this is not acceptable (no matter how adorable) in public, but she still insists on telling everyone when she takes a dump. She told the Taxi driver recently after sunday brunch at The Hyatt that she’d done “a big poo”. He smiled and said he would take us to “Kowloon”. I don’t even know how that translated to “Kowloon”, although..it is considered the “dark side”. She continues to ask for stickers/chocolate/Vodka (so proud) whenever she’s done…
Her twin brother, 5lbs 12oz, first born, massive lips/ears. I thought would be the quicker one due to size and my zero knowledge of kids. As it turns out…size doesn’t mean anything to, well, anyone. In the last few months I’ve changed their cots to beds, taken diapers off altogether at nap times, treated them a little bit older ie. “Do you want Vodka or Whisky with your pre-dinner aperitifs?” My daughter has blossomed and my Son has regressed. My daughter insists on patting her twin brother on the head and telling him “Its time for poo before stories”. I wanted to die from pride and regret, all at the same time.
Now I get my parents…slightly. You can’t balance different people that easily. If one twin is sooo bright, how can you not help but encourage them? However, the other, is different (not slower, DIFFERENT) and they are watching, as I still do, even now as a grown woman, with 3 brothers (and I was never the favourite). I don’t want them to think I love one more than the other, ever. But at the age of 3, I know they already do think this. Do we all have a favourite? You are lying through your teeth if you say you don’t. If you don’t, please share your wisdom.
Anyhow…lets go back to the potty situation….
After having a looooong chat with the kids about taking the bars off their hotbeds, going to the potty, bla fucking shoot me bla, they agreed to behave and stay in bed for their lunchtime naps. Until I got them out, around 3/4pm ish (or whenever “Happy Hour” at the clubhouse was over).
This is what happened in my Sons bedroom.
He literally opened every drawer he could reach and took everything out of his cupboards, shelves, bed. under his bed, under the floorboards (I’m sure, if we bothered to check)… you name it.
He was naked when we found him. NAKED. And, smirking. The cheeky sod…*Photo below… of my Son (AKA “Satan’s”) room.
What was my reaction after seeing his room?? I backed out, stifled my giggles (took a photo obviously)…and walked away.
If I was living back home in London, alone, without help…would my reaction have been the same? Doubtful. I think I would have gone fucking nuts because of the mess (he literally emptied every drawer). But…this was pretty funny…. I didn’t have to tidy up. Thank fuck for Help.
SO lately I’ve had yet another mild case of “writers block” which generally involves me (a) writing sod all, and therefore, (b) turning to my beloved white wine for some inspiration/commiseration. Turns out, its not actually writers block per se, but more “I-have-no-energy-because-the-childen-are-sucking-the-life out-of-me-block”.
The last few updates involved the joys of potty training twins. Well….judging from the very real photo above taken of a fresh shit one of our kids did in our lounge….i’ll say its not going too badly.
The Captain however needs a bit more training on the whole “potty thing”. For example, he needs to believe the kids when they say they have to go use the potty…. which is how the above accident happened.
The conversation went something like this:-
Twin A, “Daddy, I need the potty”.
The Captain, “Are you sure… or, are you playing around again?”
Twin A’s response to Daddy’s question … “No, Daddy I need potty”.
The Captain, “Are you really, really sure?”
Twin A, “Right then, I’ll just do a big shit on the floor instead. Maybe he’ll believe me next time”. Hence, Exhibit A above.
Along with all the above crap, I’ve now come down with a bad cold/exhaustion.
My last words on the matter. Potty training sucks arse. Deal with it Mums and Dads… well… unless they stay-at-home… they just dont get the pain/mess we go through.
I HATE POTTY TRAINING TWINS. AND, I’M SURE THEY HATE ME.
This week has been all about potty training the twins. After everyone around me has managed to do this, I decided…. ok, this week is THE week. I don’t want to feel inferior for fucks sake.
We were/are one staff member short at our household (yes, only the ONE nanny this week to help… the kids hate her btw). So.. I did some googling and decided on the 3 day plan (sounds like the AA 12 Steps, so I was all for it… although you don’t have to walk around without underwear in AA meetings, unlike the potty training plan id found). Aside for the short-tempered Nanny, and piss all over the apartment… we’re ok… so far.
Day ONE of potty training… surprisingly good. The kids respond well to doggy treats and scratching their tummies whenever they do a good job. What I don’t get is why they still keep pissing on the floor, AFTER they’ve got a sticker on their “wall chart” and understand they need to do their business inside the potty (which sings songs btw). Now I don’t remember potty training but I am POSITIVE, my Mums approach involved a wooden spoon and screaming. I feel quite placid and remarkably sober for this shit.. Plus the kids look exhausted by the whole “Tell Mummy if you need the potty” business. I’m so tired I’m actually passing out in front of the Captain at 8pm (I swear he has sex with me at this time).
Along with all of this, I’ve now been entirely sober for the past 6 weeks & 4 days (6 hours & 12 seconds) without any nights of screaming at the Captain for no reason and basically remembering every second of the evenings out (must have been boring/shit if I can recall anything). I felt like those weirdos I knew at school (yeh, early drinker… i went to Catholic school for fucks sake) or university, who didn’t drink and appeared to fake having a good time. Now, I recently did a DETOX (yep, you read that properly), where I’m now sooo fucking posh, they deliver the shit to your front door (18 bottles of Punch Detox) of juice. This stuff is meant to clear all the crap out of your body and it appears, I had plenty. Why? Because I CAN’T stomach alcohol. Yes, you read that right. I have tried EVERYTHING to make me drink again and nothing works…. until….. this evening. It turns out, I have a weakness for (aside from cheap wine & sex)……. Champagne ladies. Lots and lots of champagne. It was the one drink I could stomach while pregnant with Number 3 so it clearly has some sort of healing or medicinal purpose in my life…. and that’s what I’m telling child services.
Anyway, day 2 of potty training wasn’t as fabulous. my son decided to try to write his name (in Greek because he’s clearly a genius) on the window… in shit. I had to bite my lip so hard, not to kill him that I now have Angelina Jolie type lips (without surgery. bonus eh..?.). Why are they not grasping it? Because they are clearly punishing me for all the shit I put my mum through, We discussed this crap at length for fucks sake?!! “Peepy? in the potty. Poo poo, in the potty.” Which part of the tale am I missing? Well, my mates/new friends who I hate, whose kids are potty trained, walk in like a bunch of peacocks, peering down at my gorgeous monkies, who clearly have no idea and work for treats (you get M&M’s for a poo in our household). My only saving grace? They trained ONE child at a time. I’m superwoman clearly.
Anyhow…its day three and I’m tempted to keep the kids in their nappies until they head off for university. Especially my son, who has no idea what is happening when he does a poo & seems to lie constantly… Whats the Captains response to his Son being like this? “oh bless, isn’t he sweet?”, (because he looks like his father)… yeh, give me a valium.
On a separate note, some arse monkey tried to steal my wallet last week at Ocean Park (Hong Kong’s version of Alton Towers), so be careful ladies. It turns out that having been brought up in SW London means shit in this neck of the woods. I started shouting at Chinese people on the way out of the park just because i felt so violated… plus everyone keeps trying to touch the kids (my son has straight blonde hair, my daughter resembles an Iranian Shirley Temple)… its pissing me off but apparently as Boy/Girl Twins in Hong Kong… “wery wery Lucky”... fuck off…
Lately I have found it super hard to try to blog and keep up a happy family charade. The Captain pleads for my time but also encourages me to blog as he loves reading everything. That said, he doesn’t want me up writing late into the night, nor does he want me doing it at weekends, or any other time that interferes with us. This basically means, its impossible. I LIKE to work late at night. NO ONE bothers me and it gives me that time to be alone without the kids asking for everything and the Captain telling me to “relax”. I have always been a night owl when it comes to creativity. My days as an artist will show that… ok, I’m not an artist… just a little creative and can colour by numbers.
I barely have time to answer emails or text messages (“Wassap” on the iPhone BTW is fucking genius!). When am I supposed to sleep, eat, shower, have sex (yeh right), write, relax?! Its a non-stop job this parenting malarkey. Plus, I’ve constantly got admin stuff to do every day. Even with 2 domestic helpers living in my apartment full-time to “help”, I’m busy. They also do my head in after a while as I never get to be on my own. Ever. Its bad enough that the kids walk into my bathroom when I’m sat on the loo doing a shit, but when our Helpers just walk into my bedroom while I’m mid clothes change with a tit sticking out, it gets a little fucking irritating. I now lock my bedroom door so no one bursts in. Now the kids can reach the door handles, every door is meant to be opened and shut at least 3 or 4 times. I’m dreading the day when a little hand gets caught.
I bought some of those spongy door things to stop the door shutting all the way and explained to our Helpers that every time the kids wake from their nap-time (soon stopping…shit), they need to put the door guard back on. But of course that would be waaaaaay too difficult. They forget to do anything that involves safety. I have added those plastic corner protectors onto tables in our apartment and plug sockets have been covered. What do my Helpers do? They go to vacuum and will forget to put the obvious white plug protector back into the socket. The kids are then sat there trying to shove a fork (they can get into the kitchen as the Helpers always forget to shut the damn door) and they shove anything into the electric sockets. I have had maaaaany discussions about child safety with these girls and despite saying “yes Maaam”, off they trot, flip-flops flapping behind them. What happens later that day, one of them accidentally burns our AC remote control by placing it onto of a very hot cable box. Dumb or what? I feel like I’m having to not only watch my two toddlers and newborn baby, but also my two Domestic Helpers.
As for potty training, this is going nowhere at the moment. I have read them books, demonstrated how to do it, drawn pictures, got toys to take a dump in the singing potty, but nope. They have no interest. Aside from one of the kids farting on the loo with a bit of follow through (sorry but its true), there has not been one poo in the potty. Now, my twins group here in Hong Kong are great at sharing information and have come back with some interesting potty training stories, but I’ve got to be honest. I’m fucking exhausted. Now, I have to sit indoors for a week solid with 2 pottys and a pair of two-year olds being held hostage until they hand over their crap? It’s going to be hell. Plus, everyone says, cover the furniture, accidents will happen. HEH?!? Not on my expensive suede couch it will!! Now we had a great nanny back home who worked for us 2 days a week. Yes, I only had help 2 days a week until the twins were 8 months and I moved to Hong Kong. Now I’m a spoiled bitch and think I need a third Domestic Helper (dunno what for but I’ll think of something). Anyhow, our Nanny at home had potty trained her 6 kids within a couple of days by the time they were 1.5 years. She said nappies were too expensive. How the fuck did she do this is beyond me but she did. She would have my twins out of their nappies in about a day but as she’s not here and I’m stuck with Dumb & Dumber (my Helpers), I’m going to have to tackle this on my own. I think my plan will start next week when I’m doing a Detox (yes, me, detox. Ha bloody ha). I’ll just let them run around naked in the apartment and hope they shit in the potty. Hey, I’m not cleaning it up so why do I care?!
My Daughter has also started ripping her nappy off during the lunchtime nap and when its full of shit, she tosses it out of her cot. We found her in bed yesterday afternoon saying, “Oh my goodness!” after she had smeared shit into her pillow, favourite Minnie Mouse toy and her shitty nappy was on the floor. What did I do? What any self-respecting Mother in Hong Kong would do. I called my Helpers to come and clear the shit up while I popped out for a Pedicure.
I’m also finding that the older the twins get, the more stuff I have to do to knacker them out. I spent the whole of yesterday running up and down a huge playroom in Tai Tam at the American Club (I’m not a member but I can get in with a friend who is). My kids ran and ran and ran… and I was the one needing an afternoon sleep by the time we headed home. Even then, they didn’t sleep long enough. Grrrrr! I, on the other hand was out cold, fully dressed (including shoes) on my bed.
Why am I bending over arsewards to keep my 2-year-old kids occupied? Is it just in case they fall behind socially?! I mean…. they’re TWO!? They barely acknowledge the other kids in their playgroup. Hey I don’t blame them… most of them are French or simply annoying (or both), but what a load of crap. They are attending an International Nursery and learning Mandarin. My son, I hasten to add, STILL can’t say the word “Please” properly in English… fuck Mandarin. Plus he’s got massive buck teeth (no, not like a horse) and this seems to hinder his speech.
Anyhow, now, I’m turning up at school shows, watching HORRIFIC performances from 2 year olds (cute as they may be) and taking bloody photos too. I try to ignore all the other Mums that look like Geeks but for some reason, everyone at School likes to have chit-chat. I hate small talk!! I end up telling people shit I never meant to say, ie. “Congrats on the pregnancy!”, other Mums response, “What pregnancy?!”, my response “Shit. I have to go. I forgot to put hemorrhoid cream on my arse this morning. Bye”. Anyway, back to school shows, may I just add that I will physically beat any child or parent that ever dares to speak when my pair of monkies get up on stage to sing “The Sun’ll come out tomorrow...” or whatever crap they’ve been taught. I’ve also been a Mystery reader at the kid’s school last week, which involved me turning up and reading to my twins class. They had no idea I was going so were really happy to see me. Bless ’em. I on the other hand, was shitting myself before I turned up! I mean, reading to a large group of two-year olds I didn’t know (save for my pair) was a bit daunting, especially as I was sober (no booze for the last 2.5 weeks people) and unable to give anyone a swift backhand if they interrupted me during story time. As it turns out, I’m a bloody fab reader and have been asked back. I guess it’s because I can do the Queens accent really well when reading ‘The Hungry Caterpillar’ (no reason why but I like doing her accent… it makes my kids laugh).
Going back to the kids being kept entertained, we have just booked tickets to go and see Mickey Mouse on ice (or something like that) in October. The kids better still be into him then, or we’re stuck with 4 tickets to nowhere. And me, well, I just can’t be bothered. I hate shows, plays, musicals etc. The Captain took me to see so many when we first started dating, I had to keep my hip flask tucked in my bra to ease the pain, while swallowing painkillers every 2 minutes. Musicals are NOT for me. Never have been. I DO COMEDY & ONLY COMEDY. LIVE STAND-UP HILARIOUS COMEDY.
The point of this very brief blog? I’m a Mother, I’m not fucking Mother Teresa (G-d Bless her).
ps. Being sober is highly overrated but I’m still going to try it for another week. My skin looks friggin amazing though. Anyhow, as I’ve got sod all to moan about I’ve added a couple of random photos below.
Photo above taken near the Big Buddha, Lantau Island, where a group of fine, very toned young men from the Shaolin Kung Fu school did some dancing with poles (not male strippers) & knives (not Thai strippers). Photo below is clearly the Big fat Buddha having a bad hair and earlobe day.
Well, I’ve been thinking lately about going on some sort of health kick, like everyone else I know here in Hong Kong. There are so many annoying people jogging past me in the morning with those straps attached to their arms so they can listen to music, that it really bugs me. Especially as I’m in my car, eating a burger and screaming at the kids.
So… I decided, maybe quit drinking, eating crap and start exercising more just to try and reduce the impact all the years of drinking and partying have had on my skin and body. I must stress that I’ve only been thinking about this…not actually doing it. Yes I recently went to my first Pilates class after 7 months of zero exercise. As a result, I almost fell off the Reformer (Pilates machine that looks like a torture rack) and was knackered within 10 minutes. My whole body is now rigid with pain and I can’t bend over without moaning as my legs are friggin killing me. I’ve literally rubbed Aloe Vera (good for sprains) all over my body…. and yet still… I am in agony. A word to the wise… never let Aloe Vera touch your private parts unless you are prepared for a freezing cold and painful shock.
Anyhow, back to dieting. Some people (actually A LOT of people), here in Hong Kong, have been doing the PCP diet AKA http://thepeakconditionproject.com/ which is a 90 day (YES NINETY) diet and health plan, that will make you lose weight. During these 90 days, you have to work out daily, eat right (customized weekly diet) and generally be a miserable, boring git who can’t go out for a meal with friends.
Now in my opinion, after, 90 days, anyone could bloody lose weight if they worked out continuously (I mean, not just lie about it, actually do it) and eat a well balanced diet. Also, of course you are going to start looking better because (a) you are not going out drinking, which leads to (b) going to bed at a reasonable hour and not carry on partying until 5am. You’re getting your beauty sleep, dieting and not drinking alcohol. How they are doing this diet is beyond me, but loads of people have done it and lost a shit load of weight.
After giving it a good long think about, I’ve decided… nope. Not for me. Daily workouts? Err…. when? If I haven’t slept properly the night before because one of the kids isn’t well, where are I supposed to summon the energy for a gym workout?! Plus gyms are so boring. The minute I get in there, I want to leave. Everyone always looks so smug in there too. Running on their machines, listening to their IPods, getting all toned and skinny. Plus lets face it Mums/Dads… If I don’t get a good nights sleep, I cant function at all. I’m never going to sleep well again until all my kids leave home …. or end up in Prison.
As for not drinking for 90 WHOLE days/nights. This is tres impossible for me. I have tried to go for 5 WHOLE days without a drink recently… taking one day at a time and all of that stuff Alcoholic Anonymous spouts, but the truth is this. IF one of the kids upsets me, or I’ve had a shitty day… where do I go? Medicine cabinet for headache tablets? No. Do I ring a friend or The Captain to complain? No. I open the wine fridge and decide which bottle of wine I’m going to have while I vow to only drink 2 glasses (don’t EVER open the expensive one though… it’s not worth it for a bad day’s drink). TWO bottles later… I’m happy and tired and called a number of people. By the way, NEVER EVER DRINK & DIAL. You will not recall the conversation and will usually get a concerned text or email from someone the next day, asking if you’re ok. I’ve had this happen on a number of occasions and am thinking “Huh? I feel great?! What are they going on about? When did I call them?!”
That’s another thing I’ve been experiencing lately…. severe memory loss. According to our Doctor, its due to stress (thank fuck she didn’t say alcohol…. I’d be devastated). Therefore recently, the Captain and I will have done something and I will have no recollection of it. Zilch. We apparently watched a Grey’s Anatomy (I’m into it big time) and the following night, I couldn’t understand why we had missed 2 whole episodes. The Captain explained that we had in fact watched them and thought I was joking every time I asked questions about it. It’s a good thing I haven’t forgotten having sex (yet), or the kids when it comes to picking them up from school.
So…. I’m also trying my hardest to potty train these cheeky monkies. It’s just not happening. They wait for approx 1 hour and after their poor little bums have turned red, sat on a potty (that sings & congratulates you when you do a shit) I think “let them go…its not happening” I’m a bad woman for forcing them….and what do they do? They do a massive poo in their nappy. I feel like a failure. I have demonstrated myself sat on the “big potty” (the shame as I’ve got shocking reactions to doing a poo), and yet…nothing is appearing in the potty. My Mum (AKA… God), told me, “leave them with me for 3 days and they will be trained”. She cracked after a day stating “your kids don’t listen to a word… whats wrong with them?” Err… whats wrong with them? They belong to me… therefore are defiant and a pain in the arse. I’m so proud.
Soooooo… at school, there are these very annoying people with their kids all “trained” and my two are, well, so NOT. I don’t care. I peed the bed until I was around 5. Apparenlty it was due to stress… yes, at FIVE YEARS OLD.
How are you all getting on with this potty business? Especially with twins? I dont want to push them…apparently it makes it worse and they will get stressed. So… now… slip a small shot of whisky in their milk and see what happens (joke obviously…childcare services HK).
As a parent… recently… I just feel like I keep failing. I feel guilty for shouting (more at myself than anyone else), I’m tired and can’t function, and therefore, I feel like, after IVF, I’m a bit of a crappy alcoholic letdown. I thought I was going to be a good one… not some tired, exhausted Mum… the one I vowed never to be. I love those monkies… so why am I so angry? Here I am though… angry and exhausted. Poor them. Poor me…?
As for the diet… screw it…. I’m doing a new one. The HK Wino diet. Yep… alcohol and no food. I can hear it now…. all those websites defending teenagers screaming “why support drinking”?! Stop setting a bad example”.
Firstly, they shouldn’t be on this site and secondly…. “because I Like it. Fuck off”.