Yet another blogging mummy

I am sitting here in bed, while my husband is out with our Pickle. This morning, a Moana dress and head band arrived for her and she's been wearing it proudly all day. She looks just beautiful. The past three days we were in Vancouver, and she whined almost half the time she was there that she wanted to go home and that she missed home. That part wasn't enjoyable. A large part of the other half was spent telling me that she didn't want to talk, to eat, to dress, to stop doing this, to start doing that, that she was too hot, too cold, too thirsty or too hungry, but she didn't want to eat, drink, stand in the shade or stand in the sun, and I spent most of the time feeling completely overwhelmed and frustrated, which led to exhaustion and ultimately, a lot of big emotions inside me that couldn't come out. So, a large part of the rest of our time in Vancouver was spent in a state of trying to pacify the beast and feeling out of sorts.  Whenever this kind of thing happen...

Well it certainly was a summer of learning. My pickle grew about 3 feet in two months, and my heart grew at about the same rate. I also found out what I do not want to happen during the summer, which felt like it lasted 2-3 years. I don't want to get to the end of the school year and dread the summer starting, but I am already dreading it. And this one hasn't even ended yet.  Pickle was challenging, and I found the whole summer to be more exhausting and stressful than any other time during her life. I guess every parent goes through this, especially in the summers, but I think the first summer is probably the hardest. So, with that logic, surely it can only get better next time?  I had stopped drinking completely, from Christmas to June essentially, and in the summer, all that went out the window. I started drinking heavily again, stopped exercising, as I was with Pickle all day every day, and had no time to exercise, and basically I had absolutely no time to myself whatsoever...

It's Thursday. Which means that wherever you go, people have that Thursday look about them. Wednesday's people are much less Thursday than Thursday's people. Everyone just looks very Thursday. Today I feel very, very Thursday. Last night I did not sleep, not because, for once, my gloriously adorable pickle woke me up because of bad dreams, or that she needed the loo, or that she was wiggling beside me in her sleep, but because every full breath that my gorgeous husband took throughout the night was swaddled in an ear splitting snore. I know tigers that would be jealous of how roary his snores get.  So, today I woke up to my pickle being extremely arguments, and trying a thousand different tactics to get me to agree that she stay in bed, so the morning fighting, which has been almost non existent this week, resumed today. You know when your child, after not sleeping for 2 years, finally sleeps for a night, and you and your partner instantly start manically listing the things...