Monday, November 5, 2012

Enter the banshee

It's just a phase, it's just a phase, it's just a phase it's just a phase.  The infamous tantrum phase. I was hoping that we had earnt a 'get of of jail free' card by enduring what felt like a lifetime's worth of crying during the first six months. It must have got lost in the mail. Or maybe I was a villain in a past life. Or maybe this is just what having a toddler is like.  Tonight after practising the patience of a monk for approximately 2.8 days I checked myself into spa De Mansill for the luxury of some time to myself. Zero whinging babies, one long shower, 30 blissful minutes in which I have absolutely no idea what is going on outside the cocoon of this indulgent retreat. Otherwise known as the bathroom. Yep that's right, never underestimate the luxury of your very own home. Here I am sitting on the toilet (lid down just so you know), laptop on my knees, fan on(to block out any sudden ear piercing whip cracking 15 month yr old shrieks), music on(just in case the shrieks are extra extra loud) feeling more peaceful than I have all day. I am even contemplating ordering room service (email to husband) as the only thing that is missing in a vino.


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