I am exhausted.  But reassured.  I’ve been around the world tonight.  Well, around my world – otherwise known as the blogosphere and there seems to be a common theme appearing.  Everybody is fed up.  Fed up with being overlooked and overworked.  I wonder if it’s something to do with the full moon?  It appears to have caused many female bloggers that I know to have a rant about their lives.

I have just done exactly the same thing with my kids tonight during our evening meal.  I sat them down and tried to remain calm.  I simply pointed out that I was bored of having to do everything myself.  That I didn’t think it was fair that they don’t help me do anything around the house.  That my house is a tip and I’m exhausted.  My daughter had the bloody nerve to tell me that I was a hypocrite because my room was a tip too and I calmly pointed out that “IT’S MY BLOODY HOUSE AND I CAN DO WHAT I WANT WITH MY BEDROOM”.  I complained about having to spend all day teaching on Saturday only to come back, via the supermarket to cook for five, pay for pizza’s for three, give more money to teenage son to get back home safely, wait up and worry about them, cook a huge breakfast for 7 enormous children, including taking my daughter’s food up to her room because she texted me to ask for breakfast in bed, which was a first (and last) and then give money that i apparently owed although can’t remember to my daughter so that she could go and meet her friends, empty the dishwasher about 85 times, put 38 loads of washing on, bla bla bla you know the score.  I did an “it’s not easy on my own thing” wondering if that would find a way through their hard shell of “we don’t give a shit, you boring old ranty fart”, but it didn’t even touch the sides.  I’m pretty sure I didn’t get through even a chink of their disdain.  I even thought about crying but then couldn’t be bothered.

So.  New tactic tomorrow.  I’m charging £1 an item that isn’t where it’s meant to be and I am going on driving-them-to-school-strike.

They can bloody walk.

I might even hide their shoes and make them walk in bare feet.

Maybe with a bag full of bricks on their back.

This worm has turned.

Momentarily.

Until somebody buys me some orange chocolate and tells me they love me.

Or maybe all my pissed off blog friends and I should just bugger off for a week or two leaving all our kids home alone to fend for themselves.  That’ll teach them.  Although after my last blog post about teenage parties, I’m not sure I dare.

Anybody want to come with me??

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19 Comments
  • Expat Mum
    February 1, 2010

    Taking your daughter’s breakfast up to her bedroom. Are you mad? You’ve created a monster. I don’t even make breakfast for mine – I point to the pantry and make sure the cereal shelf if well stocked.

    • Family Affairs
      February 1, 2010

      Don’t worry. As I said, that was a first. I do have friends who do that every day. NO WAY. She just didn’t really fancy having breakfast with my older son’s friends and given that all that will change next year and she’ll come down with full make-up and no clothes on, I thought I’d just go with it. Lx

  • Di Foden
    February 1, 2010

    Can I come? My lot have finally left home, thank God (it took My Son the Actor till he was nearly 40)but I feell I could add some hope to the gathering by being living proof that ther is light at the end of the tunnel xx

  • Barenakedmummy
    February 1, 2010

    If I can have a lie in and no demands for milk, oklet and juice then I’m coming too!

    • Family Affairs
      February 1, 2010

      Great. You’re on the list too. We’ll get milk delivered. Or room service. (that’s not you and me exclusively btw – in case people suddenly think we’re going on a lesbian weekend!) Lx

  • Zed
    February 1, 2010

    I refused to clean up after the children many moons ago. If I find something of theirs’ somewhere where it shouldn’t be I simply confiscate it. It’s a bit like a lost property box. What annoys me the most is buying food only to be told that “I’m not eating here tonight”, so I buy frozen pizzas for the Friday night when they come home from their dad’s and see whether it’s worth buying food for the weekend.

    My daughters tend to hoard mugs in their bedrooms – I once found seven in Tatiana’s bedroom, so that’s the only thing I do in their rooms – remove the mugs and spoons. If the kids want to live in a tip, they can, as long as they don’t turn my living room into one too.

    • Family Affairs
      February 1, 2010

      Yes. Same. Daughter’s and bloody mugs. I took 4 out yesterday. Maybe I’ll do the same. Get a bin bag and chuck everything in there that is dumped on the floor – well done you Lx

  • Nicola
    February 1, 2010

    A friend of mine, when she finds anything belonging to her children out of place in communal rooms, simply opens the front door and hurls it out.

  • Jon Storey
    February 1, 2010

    Nicola has the right idea, though I compromise and open the kids bedroom doors and hurl everything in and let them sort their own mess out!

    If I can bring my Jack Russell can I sign up The Children’s Mother and me for the trip?

  • Sarah in Italy
    February 1, 2010

    Am packing as we speak.

    Admittedly giggling at you rpost, but in a very “Solidarity Sistah !” sort of way.

  • Zed
    February 2, 2010

    May I bring Herman?

    • Family Affairs
      February 2, 2010

      Herman will be a very calming influence on us all – no doubt about that L x

  • Muddling Along Mummy
    February 2, 2010

    Please can I come with you – I love the idea of charging for things not in the right place, reckon I could get Mr to fund me for a nice trip away !

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