Today has been one of those days where I am that frazzled Mum, that shouty Mum, that wishing for bedtime Mum. There was something about the children today, right from the get go. They were horrible to each other, to Daddy and to Me. For the first time I was told, by Isla, she wished I was dead. In such a grumpy way. It was not nice to hear. They were doubly naughty at Pizza Express, mucking about and being rude. I was so embarrassed. I thought a run in the park afterwards would make things better and it worked for the most part. That was until we walked home and Noah did a sliding tackle on Isla and she fell over and banged her head. Why does he do it? Why does it insist on hurting her? I might cry! Why does this happen when Daddy is out for the weekend too!!
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