Shake, shake the ketchup bottle....

Oh my goodness, I don't understand what is wrong with us. A weekend spent cleaning and the house looks like a disaster zone! The last 48 hours have been complete bedlem; Hannah is refusing to sleep and it feels like she is spending 70% of her time in bed resisting it and the other 30% creating chaos around the house, completely manic and overtired.

For some completely obscure reason, unbeknown to me, I decide to start painting the wall behind the piano. I used the biggest tin of paint that was sitting behind our toilet door, which so happening to be aquaenamel semi gloss in white. I painted everything on or connected to that wall; filling the nail holes with paint and happily brushing over scuff marks. I know, I know. Completely ridiculous. Its like 4 years of procrastinating has surmounted into one reckless frenzy that has made our home feel like a drop zone. I am crazy. I am a crazy, crazy lady.

Meanwhile we have been living off the most ridiculous fast food. Hannah is so fussy with her eating, the fridge is empty and with me and nathan up to our armpits in rubbish, we are pretty much eating crackers, porridge and fast food. I feel evil. Wasn't I the mother her swore that chocolate would never touch the tongue of her child? Who clucked my tongue at toddlers hoeing into happy meals?

And now here I am, willing to serve up anything Hannah will eat, just to get through this flippin' weekend! LOL If I add tomato sauce to it, she will happily devour most anything. This is a wonderful trick for getting her to eat mini corn cobs, and I remind myself that if it has tomatoes, it must be good for you.

Today however, it just adds to the burden of guilt as I dowse her sausage roll with the sticky red goo in an attempt to passify her finicky nibbling.

In all reality, these last 2 days, anarchy has reigned in the form of our bombastic little two-something year old, who has seemed to call the shots all weekend, leaving us as dithering, neurotic idiots, incapable of the most menial tasks. Any time we attempt to be productive it seems we are pulled to a screaming halt by this tiny little bundle of energy. I swear, I don't know why the CIA bothers with torture based forms of interregation; if they really want to break someone down, they just need a band of sleep deprived toddlers to crack even the hardest crim. Or even one!

I keep reminding myself that I am not a bad parent I am just having a bad weekend, but gosh the whole perfect mother syndrome is hard to shake!!

I fully aim to regain the reigns and pick up the mantle of competent, in-control, boundary-based, nutritious-snack-making, quality-timing mothering tomorrow, but for now, I am off to eat whatever I can find that is not moving!