Or am I just so tired its clouding my judgements.
This week (as most weeks) has consisted of getting up at four ish in the morning with ds, getting ready for work, going to work coming home making tea eating tea putting ds to bed, going to bed. I am, for want of a better word, fucked. Yesterday, as I work flexi I decided to finish at three however I don't drive, got to bus stop, realised had forgotten purse. Mil lives five mins from where I work and always offers to give me a ride home if I need it. So I called and asked if it was ok. She said yes and came and took me home.
Dh was pissed off I had asked his mum for a lift.
I have just been sick at work and been sent home (just in case its that nasty bug going around so i dont infect anyone else) personally I think its exhaustion.
The help thing is a separate issue but I don't understand why he went in a strop about me asking his mum for a lift when I'm drowning and need some quiet time to myself.