Where has the weekend gone ?

How do you go about writing a blog post when utter mayhem surrounds you ? While writing this Miss 12 is playing “Bomberman” next to me at full volume, the radio is blaring away in the kitchen, my other half is watching some forgettable detective series on TV in the lounge, and the other children are in their rooms, no doubt watching YouTube videos until their eyes fall out.

In a few moments I will be called into the kitchen to help prepare dinner. I just finished clearing the washing up from this morning – we had a cooked breakfast before heading out to cheer on the younger girls in rugby matches this afternoon. We arrived home a little earlier this afternoon.

Where has the weekend gone?

The repetitive assault of sound from Bomberman is slowly driving me round the bend. I wonder how much noise cancelling headphones cost ? Thinking about it, there’s no way I would ever get away with wearing them – for the same reason I could never win with a mobile phone. If I have notifications switched on, I get ranted at for the phone vibrating or beeping all the time – and if I have the phone on silent, I get ranted at for not answering it. I can’t win.

Not winning seems to be a theme at the moment – which I suppose is why I seek out the internet rabbit hole so often. If you know I read your blog, you have no idea how valuable an escape you have become for me.

This afternoon found us an hour from home watching our younger daughters play rugby. I think – for our household at least – rugby is going to end up winning over football. The children invariably have more fun playing rugby – it’s very much more a team game, and the kind of people that play it don’t seem to blame each other in the same way that football players do. Also, parents are far more involved in rugby – they turn up to watch, for one thing. I’ve lost count of the number of football matches I’ve stood on the sidelines where perhaps two parents have turned out to watch the entire damn team.

We won’t even get started about the fact that rugby clubs invariably have a club-house, hot food, hot drinks, certified coaches, first aiders, referees, and everything else you would expect of an organised sports club. In my experience, football teams rarely have any of that (even though they should).

Perhaps predictably, Miss 14 has asked us if we can write to the local football team coach, and tell him that she’s not going to be playing for them any more. The rot set in several weeks ago when several of her team described her performance in goal as “shit” to her face – followed by one of them posting on social media that the team were looking for a new goalie.

We just wish the local rugby club had a girls team. We have to travel for training and matches about half an hour each way, instead of walking ten minutes down the road to the local club. It’s kind of stunning really, because the local club is huge, and very well established – just not for girls. We suspect it has a lot to do with the kind of girls we typically see around town (and yes, this is going to be a “chip firmly on shoulder” comment) – trophy makeup plastered daughters of wealthy parents who wouldn’t be seen dead getting muddy under any circumstances, but will of course plaster Facebook with their latest ski holiday photos.

It’s just a guess of course.

Anyway. Dinner. I need to go help with dinner. After that washing up, and after that, perhaps watch a movie with Miss 17 to take her mind off her drama. I’m deliberately trying to avoid thinking about tomorrow, and work. If you see me commenting on your blog in the early hours of the morning, at least you’ll know why.

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