25 things that shit me to tears

From Suse and Kim. Can't resist.

  1. That all the cameras in the house use a different cord to upload images to the computer (3 cameras now, Grace's, my big one and the little one. And Gerard's phone). Surely, if camera cords were standard, you could be asked in the shop if you needed another one. This would mean less stuff in the world when you said no thank you, I already have one.

  2. There is too much stuff in the world. Just way too much stuff.

  3. Badly written instructions. The ones from the new telly (justification, the old TV was from the eighties) are astonishingly bad. Fantastic TV, just took me several days to figure out how to set it all up. I know instructions can be good because, once upon a time, I used to write instructions.

  4. That the house doesn't clean itself.

  5. And that no-one has invented little dirt eating robots or similar.

  6. Buying a dress on sale that I liked when it was full price, thinking yes, it's a simple little alteration and then three days later it's still making me swear (finished now, but not as good as I thought it would be and now I am intimate with how badly it was made in the first place which also shits me).

  7. The crick in my neck because my computer screen is a little high and I haven't got around to getting a proper office chair and asking G to cut down my wooden stand for the computer. He's happy to do it, being good like that. I just keep forgetting to ask (already done now, thanks G it's so much better).

  8. The heat. Of course.

  9. When people leave the back door open on 42 degree days allowing hot wind to blow into the house.

  10. Or don't open it all up when the cool change arrives and I'm not here.

  11. That I can't seem to explain how to manage this house the in heat. I know how because I've lived here for a very long time (nearly twenty years).

  12. Certain aspects of the division of labour pertaining to childcare when we're both home, especially following the afternoon sleep. Best not go into detail here (grits teeth, there's been a discussion, and it's somewhat better).

  13. That I allowed myself to become as manic as I did. Yeah, yeah, I know I'm not supposed to blame myself and all that. But still.

  14. Having to take pills that make me feel I've had part of my brain removed and and want to throw up. It could be worse, I suppose. And they do make feel chilled (without the need for weed, because I haven't medicated that way since when I started wanting to become a mother and because drugs are bad mnnn).

  15. That drugs from your doctor are OK but the fun ones aren't. When I'm in my seventies I'm going to do some serious partying.

  16. Not ever being able to go to the toilet by myself at home (except when she's sleeping) or without someone little howling outside the closed door.

  17. Having to go back to work to be able to go to the toilet by myself.

  18. Having to go back to work (although I'd be really stuffed if I were a casual worker, more on that later).

  19. The rainbow lorikeets in next doors almond tree that screech in every afternoon and every morning at five. Causing me to retreat to the couch in the loungeroom for another couple of hours sleep. Often referred to as those bloody parrots. I love the wattle birds, yellow honeyeaters, pigeons, crows and the fruit bats that visit but seriously, I want to throw rocks at those lorikeets.

  20. Not being able to eat as much chocolate weetbix slice as I really want. Because I shouldn't and because I feel nauseous from the pills.

  21. But still doing it anyway. The pills, despite everything, enhancing the craving for sweet carbs.

  22. Being fat in the first place. Not getting the thin genes. Hoping Grace has the thin genes.

  23. Trying to let go of some of my issues around food and fat (I've been reading Shapely Prose since blue milk linked there, and is it ever challenging, even when you think you've been a fat accepting feminist for a long time).

  24. That to feel better physically, especially with the medication, I really am going to have to excerise (some swimming last week, it was great once I started) and go with the Healthy at Every Size thingo.

  25. The way the lock on the passenger side of the car needs a special touch to be opened. Quite a feat when it's hot, you have a two and three quarter year old, a big bag of stuff and you're on a main road or in a carpark.

Well, there you go. Do I feel better? Yes. Thank-you.


Shula said...

I haven't been to the toilet on my own for years.
The polar is convinced something bad will happen to me.

suse said...

And I thought to myself, yes I am a mother.

suse said...

The toilet privacy eventually returns. Although someone invariably calls Muuu-uum the minute I head in there.
I've mentioned before in someone's comments (perhaps yours?) about the time when I had two tiny children and an outdoor dunny. I was in there for not two seconds before the cat (a Burmese, natch) wandered in, then Son #1 aged about 4 and I said something about it being a bit crowded, when Son #2 appeared (aged 2) WITH HIS WHEELBARROW.

Stomper Girl said...

It is so hard to keep the heat out of the house when the small people are around. And I obsess about it which means I am doubly unpleasant to be around on those days. It's even worse when they put the heater on and then forget about it.

Laura J R said...

Or when you visit someone else's house with an outdoor loo and THEIR three year old follows you in and says 'you've got a very fat bottom'
Sigh. Everybody's a critic.
My kids are 22 and 19 and I can safely say that the loo has not been an issue for some time. However finding privacy for some quality time with the husband....another story. That joy awaits!

Lazy Cow said...

Too much stuff in MY house.
Bugger about the meds. Someone very close to me has just gone off her anti-depressants (the highest possible dose, taken them for years) and it's HARD.