That’s the sound of the wheels falling off this rickety old single-parent wagon.

The first 3 weeks weren’t too bad.  I took pride in the fact that I was ‘handling’ it.  I kept everyone clothed, fed, and happy.  It was an adventure.  I laughed when the helium balloons set off the house alarm.  I paid bills, which I’m embarrassed to admit that I hadn’t done for a good 10 years or so. It was almost – but not quite – FUN!

I’m a stubbornly independent person and take great pride in being able to handle things, so its not easy for me to admit when things are getting to me but in the last week things have started to slide.

I am so tired my feet hurt.  I just can’t sleep deeply knowing that I’m the only thing standing in the way of complete chaos.  After the Missys are in bed the evening yawns blankly.  And Masterchef finishing doesn’t bloody help.

The Big Missy is struggling.  Last Wednesday evening she had a toddler tantrum.  Doors were slammed, tears flowed, nonsense spouted. She was sent to bed early.  Thursday night the same behaviour appeared after tea time.  I sat on her bedroom floor and asked what was really the matter here?

“Can we quit going to Singapore so that Dad can come home now?”

Ahhhhh…it took 4.5 weeks but the truth came out at last. She has been so cheery and brave, embracing the whole package with unfailing optimism. She’s always been a glass half full kind of kid but the glass is looking emptier and emptier to her.

We are trying to refill the glass with Daddy time on Skype and the phone, and lots of cuddles and affection from me.  I try and convey the “big picture” to her but almost-8-year-olds aren’t all that fantastic at “big pictures”.

And now the dog  has decided to lose control of her bladder. Yes, I know she technically didn’t ‘decide’ to become incontinent but why the heck did fate/karma/whatever decide now would be a great time for her body to give out?  I guess I can spend my blank evenings washing her, her bedding and the carpet.

And have I mentioned that the side fence is kapput? Fortunately the neighbour has taken on the  job of getting quotes but I do have to arrange for someone to come and cut down half the pittosporum so that they can replace it. And I really really don’t want to.

In fact, I don’t WANT to do anything, especially be an adult!

But, whatever doesn’t kill you makes me stronger. eh?  I bloody well hope so!

Anything to add? I love to hear your thoughts!

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