The start of day

My day begins at 6pm when I am wakened by a hyperactive little girl and a Cat that follows her every step. She throws her arms around my neck, and the Cat..well the Cat is there for one reason and that is food. The morning coffee arrives from hubby (sometimes I think that is the only thing his mother showed him to do). Once he tried to bake and egg and it ended up next to the Pan instead of inside.

At about half past seven the doorbell rings for a fresh visit from mother-in-law on her way to work. Sometimes she complains, sometimes she brings us the latest family gossip, sometimes she fafs about our household but I couldn’t care less that time of the morning, I have honestly learnt to switch off between half past six & seven.

Between seven and half past we dress, and it is a mission telling a 4 year old what to put on according to the weather when all she really wants to put on is Bratz, Barbie or Hannah Montannah… Yesterday we searched for the Mickey Mouse beanie, and of all the beanies in her cupboard old Mickey had to be the one…

At half past seven I drop her at school and start the worst part of my day, the 60kms to work. One and a half hours later I arrive at work if there were no accidents, but on average 3 days out of 5 there are lane closures and accidents unfortunately. Not to mention one or more of the many robots that is out.

I leave work at half past three hoping to get to school at five, and once again, if I am lucky. At the end of July I am going on pregnancy leave, and hopefully I will sort out my life at the end of this year. I hate rushing to work and back.