Did I just tell my two year old to "Grow up" ???

Holy smokes Batman, I need a holiday.

You know you're getting old when...

So yesterday I was 50% child free (that means one is at kindy, for those of you playing at home) and so a prime time for some retail therapy. H2 took it upon herself to behave like an absolute champion and frankly, I was walking on sunshine! I got to actually browse and play about as opposed to my usual snatch and grab purchasing efforts.

Headed straight for one of my fave stores and relished the opportunity to spend some hardcore quality time coveting the goods. They had hairbands that I just knew would be a glorious tool to hide my hair - I don't have bad hair days; I'm living a bad hair life - but could not decide on a colour. I tried them all on, doing my best to choose one that might just go with everything (we are on a budget, after all) and had decided on one neutral enough to wear with most things.

I take it to the counter to pay and once the cashier performs the requisite "Hey, whatcha doin', how's your day been?" bullshit, she says, ever so nicely "Umm, I saw you trying them on and, like, did you know they're actually tops?" Well fuck me, common sense would dictate that if I did, in fact, know that, I would have been wrapping them around my breasts rather than my fucking head, little girl - that's what I wanted to say. What I said instead though, was "Well, like, der. But as if I'm gonna conform and do just what you think I should do with them!" (along with putting on my best ever Kylie Mole face). That stumped her; knocked her for an absolute six. She looked confused as hell and I thanked the good Lord for providing me with such vacuous teenage service.

"Ok... Cool. I was just checking" she says as she bags up my purchase. I turn on my heel and walk outta there with my head held high - taking comfort in the fact that she'll probably head out tonight with one wrapped 'round her noggin too.

Ahh, all in a day's work.

I'll take it back next week.

Is that really the time???

How is it 1pm? Seriously, it was 9.30am just minutes ago! Well, two hundred and ten minutes ago anyway! Don't get me wrong; I love that the morning went so fast because it means there is less time to wait until Fathership's return to assist with the taming of the beasts but...

Well fuck, I am still in my pajamas for one! H2 has been fed, changed, changed, fed, washed, changed, argued with and put to bed twice (albeit unsuccessfully) and H1 is also still in his night attire complete with Vegemite smears from lunch - or was it breakfast, I've lost track!

I simply have not stopped today and yet have precious little to show for it. The living room looks like the product of a recent home invasion and I look like Orphan Annie - except that she was cute. There's just no structure, no routine. I was never terribly organised but this is unbelievable! How are two tiny human beings ruling my domain so thoroughly? All I do is race from one to the other, trying to placate and abate. I'm rather like a politician really. I lie, I cheat, I simper, I bullshit... If only I had the wage! And that's the pissiest part; I work my tail off and get sweet FA for it, nada!

Ok, so that's not true. I get masses of "cuddools", kisses, heart wrenching grins and kooky giggles. Like having a chauffeur, PA, corporate lunches and eight day fortnights could ever top that! Ok Ren, stop thinking too hard, la la la, I'd hate it, I would! It'd be boring and loathsome and...

Please be mindful of others...

...during times of exercise.

To the man doing the half jog/half I'm-gonna-die shuffle up the hill this morning, if you simply must wear those too-small swishy fabric rugby shorts during your morning trek, please show some consideration and tug them back down once they've ridden up your legs. Seeing your underpants-clad, exhausted testicles hanging halfway down your thigh was not my idea of a pleasant visual experience.