Mothering the apocalypse (part 1)

Forward – This is a very rough first draft and is moving out of my comfort zone as it is not a one off but rather intended to be part one of a series. It still needs allot of work but I know me well enough that if I don’t put it out there I wont move forward with it. Thank you all who read for the support! Any ideas for a better title greatly appreciated!

Dear Diary.

I have suffered yet another blow in the process of being eliminated as a person and replaced with the entity known only as Mummy, I have also been cruelly and vindictively denied the first day back at school I had been promised two weeks ago when they broke up for Easter.

It happened sometime yesterday morning while Helen was downstairs watching the Peppa Pig DVD on a loop while I was upstairs trying to get Godwin to complete his holiday homework. I was up stairs for quite some time due to the fact that we had only just that morning opened his book bag to discover there was holiday homework and due to the fact I was not born to be a teacher, whenever God and I sit down with the intent of learning you can guarantee we will both be in tears within ten minutes and I will find myself channeling my teenaged self and recreating my top 10 most epic door slams of puberty.

What I am saying is that the overall noise level in the house was high and dramatic in nature so I guess I can understand up to a point how it happened but it still doesn’t make me any less bitter, make me feel like I have been any less out of the loop of normal adult life. I mean it can’t be normal surely, it could only my house runs on a level of noise and drama that a literal apocalypse goes un noticed for hours.

Yes. The end of the world as we know it happened and I missed it. I missed it because my 10 year old son and I were locked into a battle of wills so loud it drowned out the civil unrest that, judging by the scene outside our windows, bubbled over into outright riots all over the quality of the ‘WOW’ words in his writing homework and my 4 year old daughter had taken the television hostage to the point that I haven’t had a sniff of news about the outside world for the entire duration of the two week school holiday.

I am still completely in the dark as to the reason for this apocalypse as the only reason this unexpected turn of events came to my attention was when mine and Gods homework related wails were drowned out by Helens screeching anguish when the power went out taking Peppa Pig with it. Attempts to pull up an episode on Youtube just to make her stop only served to inform me that the mobile networks had also gone down. So no access to information is to be had, I have no way of finding out what had happened to the world in the space of two weeks.

I have come to the somewhat shaky and flawed conclusion that it doesn’t really matter anyway, after all, how many times a day does God tell me Hel has ruined everything and she is the root of all trouble that falls upon him? I never really know what has gone on, I never really know who is right and who is wrong, I rarely have any clue about how it all started but I mainly manage to bluff my way through it and at least look like I am in some kind of control. Surely I can pull myself and two small children through an apocalypse of unknown origin in the same manor, I mean, how hard can it really be? I have managed to survive several summer holidays with only minor collateral damage to property, children and mental state. I keep telling myself this in the hopes that at some point I might come close to believing it.

So thats it. Doomsday has arrived and I am very, very peeved. Firstly I was due to have the shopping delivered tomorrow and I suspect that is not likely to happen so I am going to have to figure out the whole keeping us fed things soon. Secondly the children are becoming rather difficult to keep entertained, I have managed to play on the novelty factor so far combined with every art and craft project I can think of but God is getting particularly restless and keeps asking awkward questions like ‘Why is that car on fire?’ ‘Where are the firemen?’ and ‘How far away is Pluto?’. Most of all though I am mad as hell that I have nursed myself through two whole weeks of school holiday, I have used up all the plans for ‘a lovely time with the children’ and now I have had the return to school snatched away from me. I did consider taking them up there this morning on the off chance but the car that had prompted God’s questions awakened the slightly less lax Mother in me. I might yet try tomorrow.

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