Being
a parent is tiring. It’s wonderful, but it’s tiring. And when you’re an insomniac
parent, well…..
I’m
just trying to tell you I’m a bit tired, and looking forward to a calm, relaxed,
sleep-filled weekend. Should be quite bright tomorrow, as well, so that should
cheer me up even more. We have no plans, beyond the usual routine of feeding
Mathew, changing Mathew, watching Mathew sleep, seeing which one of us is awake
enough to cook a meal, and then dealing with whichever members of either side
of the family see fit to drop in on us for a visit. I swear I’ve seen more of
Tom in the past month than I did when I used to work for him. I guess that’s
what happens when you love children but you’re not having any more of your own
(they stopped at six, I think, but I’m not sure. With that many it’s easy to
lose count after a while) – you start to latch on to other members of the
family who are still churning them out and get your baby fix that way.
We don’t
mind really. It’s nice to share the love and see the effect it’s all having on
all and sundry, and most of the people who pop round insist on bringing food,
or tidying up, or making us drinks (or all three, in Beryl’s case) so it’s win-win
all round.
I haven’t
done this for a while, but todays blog is exactly 250 words!
RC 8-2-19
RC 8-2-19
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