monday, its my friday.

seriously, as a mother Monday is the best day of my week.

its not that I don’t feel sorry for you working folk who’ve come off the back of a nice weekend away from the office, its that im thankful you’re all back at work/school. you’re weekends off are my, everybody’s in my house all the time without 5 mins to have a piss let alone anything else.

the house can stay clean for more than two minutes.

I had breakfast without any body demanding what’s on my plate.

nobody’s arguing.

nobody’s asking for anything.

there isn’t incessant banging coming from upstairs.

and wait….wtfs that?…fucking hell I can hear myself think.

its been fantastic having you all home and spending time with you and all that crap but frankly I await Monday with baited breath.

im going to have a coffee 🙂

 

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The difference between nursery and reception.

Is that Toes learnt MORE in nursery.

the standards of teaching were higher and the one to one care was ten fold that it is now.

you cant have a class of 30 students aged 4 and expect 2 people to be able to give said students the time they need to grow.

I was told at feedback day (let me outline your childs education in the allocated 5 minute slot and wonder why you’re looking at me like you want to punch me in the face – day) That Toes, one of the brightest in the class, was stubborn and lacked respect for her elders.

*gasps in horror* at my child disrespecting somebody….er…no…

shes a bit of a smartarse like her mother,

one conversation went.

Toes: can I have some more red chalk?

Teacher: no there isn’t any red chalk left.

Toes: hmm, your standards are slipping.

 

this, is HILARIOUS, they should be less focused on how far they can insert sticks up their arse and more so on the fact that a 4 year old is able to use correct terminology in context of which is very mature for her age.

I see nothing wrong with what she said. and will not punish her thusly.

she is BORED because the standard of work you set her is the same as she was doing last year. yet the homework, Fuck my virtual life, is ridiculous, it amounts to half hour a day and an hour at weekends.

fuck….right….off.

Im expected to teach her to read and apparently im expected to do so alone, because they certainly aren’t doing it at school, as toes said, their standards are slipping.

my child will respect you as much as you respect her, its a two way street and the 20 year age gap means nothing in this scenario. shes intelligent and strong willed and ive no doubt she would make a better teacher than you.

convenience is the reason she is at the school she is, and very soon that will change and ill be waving goodbye to the appalling standards of teaching.

 

if you’re  reading this miss wall.

 

get some more fucking chalk.

If Theres Not Poo On The Walls..

I know im still asleep.

 

I HATE poo smearing!

now I know, son, that you are on a metaphorical island and I, alas am on another, I do my best to hike across that flimsy rope bridge day by day, but im just not sure I want to venture into an isle of which we paint with our shit.

even for your wonderfully autistic brain, I find it a push that poo painting would be considered a good idea.

so why do it?

does one not like the bathroom purple?

or was I meant to get that by the shit smeared hands and the jumping and shouting “the correct answer is iguana!” which, by the way I totally knew….all be it I have no idea what the question was.

I suppose to be fair to you, you are no different from half the “artists” I see today.

but I think your taking the:

~ Improve my tolerance of messy play

that’s on your ace plan to the extreme. I get it, you can stop now.

mummys autistic nose hates you :/

maybe if I got you some stencils you could actually make something, like, I dunno the bat signal.

shatman..

I like it.

 

 

Things Ive Done With My Week Away

every so often its good to give yourself a week away from the ties of social media.

whilst not blogging/tweeting/facebooking I have achieved the following.

1. I am THIS [—] close to prestigeing on C.O.D black ops 2. like thiiiisssss close. which concideing my score card usually looks like this

kills – 4. deaths – 34.

is a pretty good achievement id say. bluuup.

2. I have eaten 2 boxes and 10 small bags of cadburys fingers. I do yes, feel a tad sick.

3. speaking of sick, poor toes has been layed up with a tummy bug although clearly we still have time to dress up,

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well who dosent, a massive ginger fro is vital to all living I assume.

4. Super Fem Veggie Tosspot came to visit. took loads of presents home and rode back to whence she came! never to be seen again, until she needs a home cooked meal.

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5. The hairdressers rectified my appauling hair I spent lots of money on by actually giving me blonde highlights…

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seriously, don’t humour me, im aware its STILL not blonde, how fucking hard can it be. well tbh at least its somewhere close this time, you incompetent cowbag.

6. ive upset Father…shit happens ey? maybe he’ll stop fucking coming round…take a hint?…sod offski?…I mean the man hates football, clearly hes the son of Satan.

mostly ive just been chilling out, getting the most out of the xbox before One comes out in November and our poor 360 gets shelved, but that’s another post altogether.

anywhoo im back, for now, you know me, im flakey.

mom, stop reading, do some work, and get that thing printed off for me, safe, blud.

Would You Like Vomit With That?

Its been one of those weeks when just as I think everything’s quiet, BAM! there’s vomit on my shoes, down my top, on the new sofa, and yep…its in my tea.

this is the culprit

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Fry, you bloody beautiful child.

why so much sick?

I admit he doesn’t much look like that photo at the moment. what with the pale eyes, black bags and vomit coming from him nose. (he must look like me)

last night I found out what rice pudding looks like coming back up, better than it fecking smells I can tell you that much.

its half term, its nice (ish) weather, and I can only look at freedom from behind my double glazed windows, which clearly need washing.

also.

why when babies are sick, does their poo turn into watered down korma? I mean really? how many pyjamas were ruined during the making of this illness?

anyway, that’s where ive been/where im going.

head first back into the land of runny shit and vomit.

if anyone wants to bring my a full contamination suit it would be greatly appreciated.

 

meow, meow

not the drugs…
you guys…
honestly!

this…

 

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its a book!

(for those of you who don’t know what one looks like)

Face is reading it!

yeah you herd me, reading literature!…well its no works of plato but its a bloody start!

clearly we are only getting a response because its a cat book, one does love the felines.

I cant tell the school because we’re not meant to be encouraging his cat obsession, but fuck em ey, if it works why the hell not! anyway im being a proud mommy, who hasn’t had to listen to fucking echolalia for 10 minutes. its like being given a million pounds, or a date with per mertesacker (I have a bit of a football related crush, you giant fabulous man you)

here is how our bedroom routine looked today 😀

 

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beautiful huh!

hope all you autism parents had a ace day!

im having a victory rolo desert….mmmm