Mother and child both with bad colds and the wheels in our household slowly grind to a halt. She's sprawled on one sofa under a blankie watching Finding Nemo on loop. I'm under a throw, on another sofa with Dr Phil then the Nanny.
The front door's left half painted, a chair is in two pieces with its new upholstery stuffed into a wardrobe between winter coats. I keep shifting this bag of fabric, bought two weeks ago to make a new nightie, yet I'm still waking up with the old baggy one twisted around my body, corkscrew fashion.
When we manage vertical postures we stumble through rooms dotted with baskets of clean unfolded laundry like large untidy land mines.
Where is my obsessive compulsive disorder this week? I blew it out my nose into a wad of Kleenex. That was right after I sneezed eight times in a row throwing my back out in the processes. My back has never been the same since childbirth, followed by years of carrying child on hip and then child hitting 20 plus kilos.
Why am I not any thinner?
Well, when you're sick as a dog and your lovely husband offers you a Moroccan Lamb pizza with no washing up involved... Who gives a pair of dingoes kidneys? I'm ill and grumpy. I need nourishment not dishes!
"I wont think about those calories now, I'll think about them tomorrow," said Scarlett.
Each day the clutter builds, no one has the energy to pick up anything and there are literally dozens of Barbie's and Ken's strewn about the place, hanging from lamps and other fixtures, tucked under bedding and cushions and making head-to-toe trails from one room into the next.
The Barbie dolls themselves have become very untidy too it seems; there are tiny stilettos, hats, handbags, uniforms, tiaras and stethoscopes all over the place. You'd think Doctor Barbie, at least, would be a bit more meticulous about her medical equipment.
We now have a bit of a housing shortage to deal with. My clever re-purposing of two IKEA STÄLL shoe cabinets no longer cuts the mustard space wise.
I've just counted and each compartment (designed for four pairs of shoes) at a pinch, holds up to twenty barbies.
OH MY DOG!!!: that means she has over 40 Barbie dolls now? How did it come to this? No wonder I can't close the compartments anymore without having a ribbon or ponytail poking out somewhere.
It's like a mass immigration from Mattel - we'll have to introduce off-shore processing if the situation gets any worse.
So after a week without TV, I turn on Finding Nemo. And it stays on. And on, and on.
So the old' idiot box' goes on after so much silence. I make my excuses that Nemo is about the ocean and considering this is her science topic at school this term, I am, in fact, merely supporting her education. Yeah.
It has nothing to do with the fact I need her to be still for a while and give me time to clear up, take some drugs and have a damned good lie down myself.
Yeah- it's all glamour and cocktail frocks this mummy gig.
By pure coincidence, this came through Facebook today from a wonderful page called
'Meanwhile In Australia'
'Meanwhile In Australia'
Many thanks to the divine Mr Frenchie, who cleared the land mines, folding the clean washing and putting it all away. We must not breathe on him, lest he is contaminated and rendered incapable of further acts of kindness, support and pizza purchases. As always, he stops the wheels coming off entirely.