Crystal Meth anyone?

There are a few people in the world who can get under your skin and show you a glimpse of what it must be like to live as a bitter and resentful old hag with hatred and anger hacking away in your chest. This afternoon my twins have done me that insightful service.

Before the screaming and food chucking starts each morning I like to check my emails. Half of my life exists on t'other side of the world so they are first thing I think of when I wake. At 6.30am today I stood naked in the kitchen tapping away at the laptop in hurried fashion. I had an email from a copy writing agency in Hong Kong asking for a quote for a press release which had to be written by the end of the day. As my three littlies had begun traipsing out of their bedrooms and easing the decibels up towards intolerable, I whipped through the information as best I could and emailed back a quote. Although the day ahead promised a hash of familial administration and endless picking up and dropping off to kindergartens, I assured myself that I would get the twins to bed easily for their nap around midday and snatch a few hours to work on the press release.

After spending just short of 4 hours trying to get them to sleep I gave up any pretence of being in control. Their ability to fight sleep would impress a crystal meth addict. As soon as I decided 'fuck it' and cracked a beer to soothe my twitching eye and iron head-scarf they got bored of taunting me and slid into the dreamless sleep of those with no conscience.