16:57 in My last days on earth

I’m such an idiot, promised L his favourite fishfingers and waffles, couldn’t find the waffles anywhere.
O started screaming, I ran in to find that N had punched her in the head, I didn’t hear them arguing, I could have prevented it, I could have protected her.
Still couldn’t find the waffles so checked the big bin to find a bag of fries, I’m so stupid!
A community nurse rang about J’s constipation. I explained about J having an enema last Monday but, no lumps had come out. I explained how they told me to put his movicol back to four but, I don’t feel that he’s been cleared out properly. She told me never to question myself, that I know what’s best for J and that I should go with that rather than what I was told. It gave me confidence for a minute until I realised that she probably knows why he’s under services and my supposed mental illness and that she’s purposely trying to make me feel like I’m a good mum. Also the fact that I know J more than anyone, I love him so much, what is going to happen to him? Who is going to encourage him to drink his movicol? Who is going to know when to increase it? Should I stay? Then I realise even if I don’t die he will be taken away anyway, probably handed to S on a platter. I’ve poured myself another vodka lemonade whist tea is cooking, I cannot let the children see. I’ve not eaten today, hopefully the vodka will give me an appetite.