Apparently Bridget Jones is now as old as us. She's a widow and still living her life in measurements of wine units, caffeine consumption and waist line expansion. I'm sure her knickers are no smaller than ever they were either.
If my life were documented in Bridge's terms, I swear that this week and last would look something like this:
Number of hours spent in the car transporting kids hither and thither - 150
Loads of washing put on - 15
Number of trips to various hospitals and doctors - 3
Number of irritated letters sent to teachers in relation to out of order behaviour by the teacher (yes, don't go there!) - 2
Number of water related issues - 2 so far, if you don't count the wooden floor that has risen yet again and the fact that, yet again, we have had to take it up...the other two incidents where water has come through the ceiling are minor, no, mere blips in comparison!
Number of weeks husband has been out of the country - 2 and counting
Number of turds picked up from the lawn - at least 35!! I have dogs that seem to feel it is their duty in life to ensure at least one poo has been done by the time I've picked up the previous 467!
Number of animals dead - one :-( a stiff guinea pig by Sunday evening :-(
Average time I have sat down each evening this week - 9.30pm
Average amount of hours slept - 5 - if I'm lucky enough not to have a child in my bed
Caffeine drunk - not enough
Wine drunk - seriously not enough
And this is with a part time job flung in the midst somewhere.
So how have all you Bridget Jones' coped this week ?
Hopefully normal jollies will resume once said husband is back in the country and I'm no longer the local cab service, water defence league, house elf, homework companion, caviidae funeral director, chief poo picker, dispute resolver and angry mama bear.