It’s going to be a supremely moany self pitying post today. Just to warn you in advance, in case you’d rather skip it. These whiny tomes can get somewhat tedious, I appreciate.

I am officially having the week from hell! Actually, let me rewrite that, to award it the gravitas it deserves. The Week From….(dramatic sinister drum roll) HELL. I reckon you could write a wonderfully terrifying horror film based on a week like this, or at least, a strong documentary designed to put anyone off having offspring in the near future. I am seriously at the end of my tether! It’s gone beyond a joke!

Let us start with the night. The NIGHT From Hell…( yes, ok, I’ll stop labouring the point now. Over-egging notice duly received.) Poor old DB2 launched into his one unique version of the lurgy with great gusto. He awoke, spluttering and hacking at 2am. He eventually went back to sleep at 3:30. I myself nodded back off about half an hour later. Only to be awoken again 45 minutes after that. And that was it for the night. At 6am, after DB1 had complicated things by also clambering into bed with us and moaning and whining every time DB2 accidentally brushed up against him, we gave up. And got up. In a very depressed and sleep deprived state.

Not to mention, to add insult to injury, the fact that I also had the lurgy, and started the day by quite liberally chugging and choking my guts out. It was a glorious start. 6am in the bloody morning and I was already raring to climb back under the covers.

We drove OH to work, (I like the fact that Db1 reminded him to not steal the house keys this time…yes,indeed, DB1. You tell him.) and had a ferocious debate about politics and the issue of bad parenting and social overcrowding (its always when we are either knackered or pissed that we end up having these debates. I wonder why? Is that naturally when we are both at our most articulate? Or just our most belligerent and pompous?). Anyway, we parted company by affectionately accusing one another of being a ‘fluffy liberal w*nker who doesn’t live in the real world’ (that one was aimed at OH) and, rather more simply for me, ‘Hitler’. Charming. My dear OH thinks I’m like one of the most evil people who ever existed. I merely said that people who have too many children should have their balls cut off. What is wrong with that? (please don’t kill me… It was Tongue in cheek, honest. Ahem. Perhaps it is a bit third reich…)

When we got home, sans ‘fluffy w*nker’, that was when the real fun and games started. DB2 woke up. And started to howl.

He didn’t really stop. Well, he stopped briefly in order to feed frantically for a few minutes, just to recharge those old batteries before continuing, like some deranged car alarm. He paused for 15 minutes to have a brief kip, before gearing up again for another good old shriek. Seriously. I suspect at this point, you think I have progressed from the realm of the real, to the land of hyperbole. I haven’t. He screamed ALL DAY.

Obviously, I felt very sorry for him. Poor little love had a bad cough and was feeling horrid. I must admit though, I was feeling fairly sorry for me too though. No sleep, a throat like a muskrat was in there using it as a scratching post, a head pounding like mad…yes, I felt sorry for me too.

I don’t think anyone can possibly comprehend the sheer exhaustion that comes with bouncing a (very solid and slightly weighty) baby for hours. Imagine jiggling a writhing, thrusting terrier, who won’t stop barking in your ear. Similar sort of thing. Except you can happily deposit the dog in the nearest garden and run. You can’t really do that with your second born son and official apple of your eye. (or even indeed, the first born. Tempting sometimes though…)

Add to this a toddler who has decided it is amusing to try to pull your trousers down at every given opportunity. Who also finds it a laugh to use you as a climbing frame. Particularly when you are trying to work. Who finds it acceptable to spend quarter of an hour in floods of tears, bawling ‘WANT MY PANCAKES! WANT MY PANCAKES!’ even though you are cooking them in full view of him, and when you asked him previously if he was ready for lunch, he replied in the negative.

He’s asleep now though. In fact, they both are…dare I try to do the same?

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