Two weeks of playing nurse and then swapping in to play patient have left this house frazzled. We've had one of those fortnights where it all just becomes about survival. Socialising, baby groups, family days out... All the fluffy stuff... Gone. This week we just make sure everyone gets cuddled and fed and hope the towering washing pile that appears to be reproducing in the utility room doesn't grow teeth and devour us in our sleep.
Needless to say some stuff went by the wayside. Not least of it, my closest and oldest friends birthday. It took for me too see a photo on FACEBOOK, two days after the event to realise. Cue that hideous grip of guilt that makes you physically squirm in your seat and the squirm repeats itself every time you think of a new angle to your thoughtlessness.
Earlier in the week Steve told me how much a pint of lager is in an average pub these days. A good two pounds off where I left the pub scene.
Having a baby has been a bit like "BATTEN DOWN THE HATCHES! I HAVE A HUMAN TO KEEP ALIVE!" The idea is you poke your head out of the fox hole every so often to see what's going on, check nuclear warfare hasn't erased the rest of species and remind yourself of the outside world.
That's the idea.
Weeks like this. Moving house. ANY additional workload essentially means those civilisation checking head pokes happen less. And they didn't happen very often before.
Fortunately I have beautiful forgiving friends. Fortunately I didn't miss the apocalypse. So while there's still time I'm vowing to make concerted effort to peep or even crawl out from the fox hole this week. I need to get out.
Some pictures of the gorgeous George who came down the fox hole this week...
Having a baby has been a bit like "BATTEN DOWN THE HATCHES! I HAVE A HUMAN TO KEEP ALIVE!" The idea is you poke your head out of the fox hole every so often to see what's going on, check nuclear warfare hasn't erased the rest of species and remind yourself of the outside world.
That's the idea.
Weeks like this. Moving house. ANY additional workload essentially means those civilisation checking head pokes happen less. And they didn't happen very often before.
Fortunately I have beautiful forgiving friends. Fortunately I didn't miss the apocalypse. So while there's still time I'm vowing to make concerted effort to peep or even crawl out from the fox hole this week. I need to get out.
Some pictures of the gorgeous George who came down the fox hole this week...
I love baby feet photos. They are so sweet and tiny. You are up for a Lieber Award. If you'd like to participate, you can read about it on my blog. http://forwhatitsworth-jeannie.blogspot.com/2013/03/my-liebster.html
ReplyDeleteIt is so hard to keep up with things as a Mama. I even find it hard to have conversations without thinking about 59 other child related things. Oh. It is tough!
ReplyDeletethese photos are so very cute. i want to get the same for my little baby.
ReplyDelete