In the school holidays I reckon I spoke to an average of about 5-6 people a day. Sometimes less if I didn’t leave the house. This week (first full week of teaching and Deaning for the year) I think I have averaged about 200 people a day – and mostly they were one way conversations. The first few weeks of term involve a LOT of introducing. New ideas, new people, new concepts, new skills, new tasks. All requiring explanation. Talk. Talk. Talk. I think I have run out of words. And no new ones are going in.

I get home from work each day and the grumpy Dutchman wants to tell me stuff but I am glazed over and nodding and walking out of the room before he has finished his sentences because I’m not capable of listening to him.

The kids have figured out that the way to break me down when asking for something I would normally say no to is to simply put it on repeat. After three no’s I have changed my tune to yes simply to get them out of the room. They love me like this. Master 7 even admitted it today ‘Mum I love you when you are all sleepy and you buy us icecream and let us eat all the junk food’.

The worst thing is that I revert to old bad habits to keep myself awake. I’m grazing. I’m NOT hungry. I stopped being hungry between meals once the sugar cravings fucked off. But I am constantly seeking food to put in my mouth. This is partly because that’s what I used to do at my desk too when work got boring; I was heaps better at only eating when I was hungry in the holidays. I’m making illicit stops at the stupidmarket for nectarines (only to be suffering for it half an hour later, fruit = sore tummy) but I’m in tired-self-destruct mode and can’t seem to help myself. Last year I would have come home and had wine for dinner. Tonight I ate Master 4’s dinner for him because it was easier than fighting him to eat it. He fed it to me and told me I was a good girl. Then sobbed in my arms because he couldn’t have dessert – didn’t eat his dinner you see. Tired but still a bitch.

It’s all very well knowing all of this. I know I should just be having a cup of tea because it doesn’t over fill me or damage my gut…. but meh. Tea schmea.

To finish off a long week, when I was strapping Master 4 in to his car seat after daycare, my midi length skirt blew up and over my head – showing the entire car park and neighbourhood my knickers. It took me a moment to react so I think I may have traumatised a fair few toddlers heading to their car seats after a long day at the sandpit. Sorry peeps. At least they were good knickers.