Quiet around here, isn’t it?

I’ve been ill with the migraine from hell; it started Friday evening and refused all of my attempts to get it to sod off until early Monday morning. You don’t want the details; suffice to say it wasn’t pretty and I was fairly sure by Sunday that dying quickly and now, this minute, was a good idea – anything to stop the pain and sickness.

I slept the whole of Monday away, got up in the evening for a couple of hours and then slept all night – I was totally washed out. I wandered into work yesterday (I know, old habits die hard) but spent most of the time working on projects that didn’t involve computer work – I was scared that looking at the screen would trigger it again.

I finished early in the end and went shopping, which come to think of it wasn’t the greatest of ideas in 3½ inch heeled boots – my feet are still killing me today. I can only put this momentary lapse in my normal very sensible view on shopping (you don’t do it – if you can’t buy it on line; it’s not worth the torture) down to the after affects of the migraine. I was obviously still high on drugs.

I mean, what pleasure do people get traipsing around shops? Especially at the moment – there are screaming kids everywhere. Of course my children were never like that and that, in case you were wondering, is what is known as selective memory loss. Of course my kids had their moments, all kids do – but as they grow older you forget what it was like to be a hassled mother with a toddler and a six year old, and a pushchair with wheels that must be some distant relation of shopping tolleys.

I don’t know why you end up with memory loss – toddlers are Mother Nature’s way of preparing you for teenagers. At least with a toddler they are small enough to pick up and lock in a handy child sized cupboard – no I didn’t, but there was a couple of occasions I would have like to. Oh, come on I’ve never professed to be a perfect text book mother - I’m more the sort that prepares her children for life’s ups and downs.

Mother Nature is also preparing you with certain phrases too. You think that a child constantly asking you ‘What’s that? And the other classic ‘Why?’ is annoying but that’s only because you haven’t been introduced to the teenage equivalent – ‘Whatever’. If one word was ever meant to test a parent's patience to the absolute limit, that’s it.

The only plus side to all of this is the knowledge that one day there is a very good chance that your children will have children of their own. Then you can get your own back and spoil your grandchildren rotten knowing that they are your alternate form of payback. They will guarantee that your children will suffer the same torture that you did, ten fold with a bit of luck. As the old saying goes – revenge is a dish best served cold.

You can insert some evil laughter at this point if you want.