Oh, snap, look at that. I'm back. Like a sack. Like a sack of CRACK. ("Say crack again." "Crack." 100 internet points to whoever gets it first)
So I have 90210 paused and loaded and waiting for me to click play and instead I am what? Here? Updating? Like an updating type of person? Crazy business.
What's new? We saw the paediatrician and I met the two craziest people in Sidcup, on the bus. This made me really really really want my car, NOW. The first was seriously mentally ill, obviously, so I feel bad talking shit about her, but seriously, she had a hair stuck in the scum in her teeth, and she clearly hadn't seen the inside of a bathtub in at least a month and she sat RIGHT NEXT TO ME (I like my space. I like it ALOT) and talked at me the entire journey, despite the fact that I was quite obviously reading a book and drinking a coke (common bus curtesy says if someone is reading, you leave them the shit alone) but luckily she didn't try to touch A.B, otherwise I could possibly have hit her. A woman in the pharmacy today touched A.B and I had to restrain myself from physically assaulting her. Do.Not.Touch.Other.Peoples.Babies. I know I sound crazy here, but seriously. You don't know me, you don't know my baby. Please do not come up to us and ignore me and while I am holding her TOUCH HER.
Anyway, second person was a 14 yr old boy who took it upon himself to beat the shit out of a 11 yr old boy in front of a bus full of witnesses. It happened so fast that no one could stop him, but we all offered the younger kid tissues and water and sympathy and I gave him my number and I'll be acting as a witness for the police. I nearly offered to walk home with him but he was with a group of friends and I think I would have just embarrassed him. It made me feel so old, mothering a boy in secondary school. I'm not old enough to be this mumsy!
Anyway, the paediatrician gave us an order to give to our GP to write a prescription for the meds she needs. That was last Tuesday, and through a series of cock-ups by my husband and then the GP, we only got the meds this morning (thursday, 9 days later). We can't really expect miracles just yet but we're hopeful that in time, they'll help.
Men baffle me. The other night I was ironing Mr Arienette's shirts and suddenly a black cloud descended on me. I could tell I was in a bad mood all of a sudden and that we'd end up having a fight, so I suggested he go to bed (I wasn't sending him off, he'd been saying for about an hour that he was tired and going to bed 'in a minute') so that we didn't get all ugly with each other. And what does he do? CONTINUES to sit on the sofa gormlessly playing with some Blu-Tack! I repeat a few more times that he should go to bed, or ask when he's going to bed, stating I really don't want to fight with him but I'm in a bad mood, and since I cannot remove myself from the situation, it's better if he removes HIMSELF. He continues to NOT leave the room.
I don't get it. I really don't. You don't want me to be bitchy and whiney and start a fight with you over 'nothing', yet when I inform you that a fight is likely brewing and give you an opportunity to avoid it, you choose to ignore me? WHAT? WHAT??
I could understand if he wasn't ready for bed, but he was, he was just too damn lazy to get up. From now on, I shan't bother. If I get into another bad mood I'm not even going to try to diffuse the situation. Why should I, when he's not only going to not help, but actually going to make things worse by rejecting my attempts to be nice?
A.B's carseat arrived, as did huge order of dairy-free yum. The only problem is I have no self control and therefore have eaten over 15oz's of dried papaya cubes today, and about 4 DF chocolate rice crispie bars. I'm terrible!
I also bought a dress for Mr A's Friends & Family work do, which I will go into later.
For now though, the glossy hairstyles and over the top story-lines of 90210 are calling my name.