I'm so tired I can barely recall my own name.
The weird thing is - it's a FUN tired. I'm not sleeping because I'm so enraptured by The New Arrival and so excited to see what each new morning brings. I guess it's also likely that I'm still adrenalised from the birthing efforts at the weekend and my body hasn't yet calmed down enough to let me relax and let me sleep. I think I read somewhere once that becoming a parent is much like being in a huge train crash, because it's such a life-changing incident that messes up your body systems and takes weeks to recover from. Or maybe that's just something that I thought of myself while laying awake last night, and then convinced myself over the course of today that I had read somewhere.
Philippa, amazingly, seems to be getting better and getting into a good new routine much quicker than me. Granted, she is both far more sensible and far more intelligent than me, but even so I'm finding it impressive how quickly she has taken to being an Official Certified Mother-Of-Two. She is currently sleeping soundly, having also done so for most of last night, give or take an incident or two of feeding. Personally, I am listening to the wind batter the windows and wondering whether or not I should put the kettle on and settle on the sofa to watch whatever NFL game is part of this week's Thursday Night coverage.
(I've just looked and it's Atlanta Falcons at the Carolina Panthers on Sky Sports. Kick-off 1.15am tomorrow. They have a combined total of 6 wins this season. I don't think I'll bother).
Maybe I'll just read The Bible. Might be some good tips in there on parenthood... Or sleeping... Or both...
RC 10-11-22
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