Feeling sorry for myself

I'm feeling sorry for myself today. My parents are having a large drinks party and my husband has been asked to help. That leaves me looking after the children alone on a Sunday, again, trapped by their inescapable demands and squabbles to the extent I feel claustrophobic.

We tried joining the party but a room full of adults holding glasses of wine is not really an appropriate place for two hyperactive little boys. Deciding that despite the lure of the canapes it was too stressful, we've come home and I'm feeling sorry for myself.

I've realised that one of the problems of full-time motherhood is that you feel left out of adult life. My husband tells me that going to work is not that exciting but I don't think he appreciates the luxury of being able to interact with people whose vocabulary extends beyond "tractor" and "mashed potato". That's why mother and toddler groups are so important - I would have gone mad (madder) a long time ago had I not met such a great group of mums in the village. However, even conversations there are frustrating, ended abruptly all too often by a child's urgent need for a wee or a fight over Thomas the Tank Engine.

So, what is a full-time mum to do to preserve her mental sanity? Writing Revolution Baby helped me as it provided some cerebral stimulus, even if it was at ten o'clock at night. Now that's finished and I'm succumbing to the reality of the gravity of late pregnancy there are few options left. Some remain though, however dire the circumstances: feeling VERY sorry for myself as I pulled out of my parents' drive I diverted via the local garage and bought a bar of chocolate. I'm about to eat it all, with a cup of tea. That will serve as some recompense for missing out on adult conversations and canapes. But not much.