Morning.
Officially 12 weeks today, well until the dating scan on Wednesday tells me otherwise and bunny is now the size of a plum.
So, the party...
All four of us went over for 3pm as requested by the invitation, only when we got there, there were already about 20 people there and who had been there for at least 30 minutes to an hour. The first thing Mrs Perfect asked was did I like her kitchen, to which I replied, yeh it's not bad, which she wasn't really happy with and promptly walked off. I'd only had 5 seconds and it didn't look that much different from her old kitchen. After being there a while, it is absolutely beautiful and exactely how I want my kitchen, though I never told her. Anyway, both DH and I stood there for just over an hour before someone approached us to talk about what primary school we were sending DS1 to. After this, Mrs Perfect announced that everyone should head inside for food, so all the children sat at the table. Apparently feeding adults is not the done thing at a childrens party. Whilst the children were sat around the table eating the most boring, unnimaginative food, the adults were stood behind them - both adults and children shared a very uncomfortable silence. Food was buttered bread, cheese slices, ham, sausage rolls, cheese rolls, cucumber slices, crisps and cheese and tomato pizza. DS2 was obviously not impressed and decided to head back into the garden to spill a bottle of bubbles over my arm and T-shirt. Then the cake came out and everyone sand Happy Birthday to the birthday boy and DS2 decided this was the perfect time to throw an almighty tantrum. So I left with DS2 and DH and DS1 came back about 30 minutes later. Oh and there were party bags, but they were shite.
So I'd probably rate the party a 4/10.
Seeing her house and in particular the kitchen, has reminded me just how much I hate this house and how much I want to do to it. I was almost in tears yesterday because I don't think I'll ever have a beautiful house or at least one DH and I are not embarressed by and stop people from coming to. DH doesn't seem to really care. As far as he's concerned, painting the walls and hanging pictures is all we need to do. I want to do much more. The problem is I only have £200 each month to spend on the house - his house and he won't let me do anything. I'm even having to fight him to get some wallpaper put up. I hate this place, the depressing thing is it could be so beautiful if he'd do stuff to it, but he won't. So we live like squatters whilst we surrounded by neighbours who take pride in their houses and do them up to a high standard.
Really fed up and see little point in cleaning/tidying when I'm forced to live like this.