Who is having the sechs then? Poor MrP didn't even get sechs on his birthday this week.
Don't worry, I am not witholding or anything - it was a mutual problem of complete and utter exhaustion.
I actually think I am suffering from exhaustion verging on PND. I am crying and exhausted all the time, and really struggling to feel competent and normal on a day-to-day basis.
My small glimmer of hope is that it is related to our current circumstances and WILL improve with a bit of sunshine / childcare / sleep / actual roof over our heads.
Update on the house situation: the bastard agent for the 1970s house went all weird and started adding ridiculous conditions. We got a very bad feeling and pulled out. Then we lost the other house too. That was a very dark day. We now have a rental application in on a lovely 3 bed semi with a huge garden in an area we hadn't previously considered, but looks great! All fingers and toes are crossed waiting for the nod. (Terrified and nervous though.)
In the mean time we are still struggling in the holiday cottage where the bed is too small, I have precisely 8 inches between my bedside and Clyde's cot, and everything is just a bit chaotic.
I think we would all cope a bit better if we were sleeping properly but it is now about as bad as it has ever been. Both children are now refusing to go to sleep in the evenings. Bonnie screams hysterically unless one of us lies in her bed and cuddles her! FFS, how did it get to this?
Clyde won't go down until 10pm or later, and then wakes at least 3 times a night for feeding and reawakes crying when I attempt to put him back in the cot! MrP ends up spending half the night on the sofa (ref. bed too small) and we are both like zombies during the day.
I know we have really messed things up with all the changes we have inflicted on the children in the last 3 months and we are terrified about how to get things back on track.
Sorry for the me me post but I have to get this stuff out there. It is useless pretending everything is lovely.
I know that other people cope with two children just fine, so I feel like a failure a lot of the time. I have taught MrP to congratulate me ecstatically each day when he gets home and I can report: 'Nobody got hurt; nobody died.'
Believe me, I do actually count that as an achievement! I am thinking that having really basic, very low expectations for each day is the way to go.
As you were.
PS. box loving the fight with the bank. Idiots.