Too many eggs in basket?

To be frank, it was a rather brutal day here in Moerkland yesterday.

Sundays often are.

There's the cleaning, the organising for the week ahead,

the paper to read and the dreaded Sunday grocery shop.

I don't generally mind shopping, most days of the week.

But, the Sunday shop, I resent.

I always feel it is eating into other time.

Time I could be snoozing, or crocheting or sewing or painting something with white paint.

So when Miss B found a pattern in the latest Spotlight magazine and wanted to make some material eggs, 

I agreed thinking, yep, some quality time early in the day might buy some peace later on.

(I know it's all about me, it is my blog after all!)

Then the boys, bless them, wanted to join in and make pillows and fake stomachs ( 8 year old is doing a digestive system project).

I sighed and huffed and puffed and helped between doing some packing for Easter camping.

Very ungracious of me.

Somehow despite all the pressures.

The eggs turned out ok.

Miss B was happy, the boys were happy.

And, I got my alone time,

Yep,

Ironing in the lounge room all by myself.

Non stop glamour round here!

Edited note.

I just re read this and already feel so much better. 

Got it off my chest.