Oh wenches. I have had a very bad morning. shouted at the children and totally lost the plot.
taking the bloody church thing to school, in the rain.
just as we were about to leave, going 3/4 hour early to avoid traffic (yeah, like that worked, took 40 minutes to get back home!!)
ds2 stuck his fingers in the nutella jar and had a fistful, and all over his jumper, tie, shirt and face.
I cant cope at the moment. My GP says she was saddened that trauma counselling was denied to me.
And no ds2 didn't like the party. The dad told me that lots of people hadn't responded, but had shown up, with siblings, and even though they had tonnes of spare bags of food, party bags and presents etc, there wasn't enough to go around.
ds had no food or place to sit, but then they got him another table and a plate.
dh thinks this is very rude.
when they did the piñata, all the siblings grabbed the sweets, ds got none, nothing and started to cry.
last night he said to me. I hate that pin-thing. I hate pin-tatar. I never want to play it again. I'm never having one at my party.
oh god. sorry for the winge. I am going to have a chocolate biscuit with my cup of tea, at work, and cheer myself up.