I'm really fed up, George has been sick all week, really really ill, he's been on antibiotics and seems to have just started to get better, he's had some kind of chest infection and has been coughing like mad which means he can't keep anything down, hideous. He had about 5 days of good health before he got his current illness, the 2 weeks prior to that he had a sickness bug. Obviously he's been off from nursery and obviously I've been taking care of him but as much as I love him I've had enough now, I'm exhausted, I don't think I've had an unbroken nights sleep in a month and on top of getting up with George I'm really not sleeping very well. I'm also trying to plan Christmas and it's Isobel's birthday party next week.
My husband works really long hours and commutes in to central London, obviously, he can't do much. But, if he wakes up after a full nights sleep (having not heard George or been woken by Isobel to be told some fact or other) and tells me he is exhausted I will do him serious damage with a medicine bottle!
As he's been ill I've not been to the gym since Sunday and I feel guilty, I know that it's not my fault but I do. Paul has taken Isobel to a party and I'm planning to go to the gym once they get back, I also need to go shopping for yet another birthday present for another party tomorrow, I have ordered something but it's not arrived, such a pain.
My weight has been quite stable but I hit the peanut m&m's last night and am up a pound. My band seems to have shut today and I'm struggling through some salad and breaded camembert which is the first thing I've eaten today (almost 1pm here) I'm sure I'll be back down tomorrow if I keep on the straight and narrow today.
So that's it really, nothing constructive to say at all. If anyone knows him can Father Christmas send me for 3 days at a health spa with an enormous suite of my own with lots of beauty treatments and loads of trash tv to lay around watching please? Thanks