Well I’m officially insane.

I know you’ve suspected for a while now. Like when I quit a perfectly good job to go to, well nothing.

Or when the blog posts became infrequent, incoherent ramblings. You used to quietly think to yourself she may be losing her mind.

However, I’m not as smart as you so it took me a little longer to cotton on.

My complete collapse into the black hole of madness occurred earlier this week at 2.30pm in the afternoon. You see I’d instructed the youngest to catch the bus home and the eldest to catch another bus to soccer training.

But come 2.30pm I was out and about with all my errands done and feeling a bit guilty, if you are a stay-at-home mum you probably shouldn’t be making your daughter traipse to soccer training carting a heavy school bag and a laptop, so I decided to head out to the school to pick them both up.

See already you can see the mess I was getting myself into. Every mother knows when you have sorted out the logistics for the day YOU DON’T MESS WITH THE PLAN! Bar a nuclear holocaust NOBODY GETS TO ALTER THE ARRANGEMENTS ONCE EVERYONE HAS BEEN ISSUED WITH THE INSTRUCTIONS FOR THE DAY.

So there I was with my messages to the youngest bouncing back as undeliverable, standing guard at the bus stop to try to catch them before they got on the buses, clambering on the bus asking ‘has anyone seen my daughter’ probably lucky she wasn’t on the bus at that point EMBARRASSMENT PLUS.

Eventually I rounded them up only to be delivered the “bad news”.

It appears Hippie Child’s subject selections for next year have a clash – she has to drop one subject and pick up an alternative. Seriously do these people not realise the angst we went through making those subject choices in the first place? I need to subscribe them to the blog – they need to know we are suffering here.

I spent three hours at the parent teacher interview night, lurching between the Year 7 and Year 10 teachers trying to keep track of which child they were each speaking about. I corner the deputy principal about the clash. We discuss and discuss and discuss – my file may now be marked “parent with issues”.

I return home present the options and leave it to Hippie Child to make her decision today. I then spend the day worrying about the child, her future, her career, her ability to ever get a job and leave home. She is going to get a job isn’t she? She’s not going to be here FOREVER or anything? Nobody should be a stay-at-home mum to teenagers, it allows you way too much time to worry about them, cause it’s not like they are around for you to do anything practical, nobody needs feeding or burping. It screws with your head and wrings you out emotionally,

Trying to distract myself with the work I’m supposed to be doing doesn’t help – writing a book about raising your children doesn’t let you forget about them.

I need the distraction of a job to get my now crumpled brain OFF my children. I am so wayyyyyyy overinvolved I’m not just a helicopter parent I’m hovering in a turbo charged missile bearing Blackhawk attack copter.