So today was our second settling-in session at nursery, or Prison as Daddy has taken to calling it. Thanks, as if I need anything else to make me feel guilty about leaving her. She was, as to be expected, absolutely fine, an angel as usual. While this is infinitely the preferable option a tiny bit of me still wants her to miss me; I’m not sure she actually does a lot of the time! I spent half of this session reading through the Bible-like tome that was their Policy Folder, complete with Government Health & Safety legislation covering ‘reportable incidents’. Amputation anyone?
I’ll shortly have to venture into the kitchen to face the absolute carnage lurking behind the closed door. What should have been a straightforward job of fitting a new hob turned into the man being here for six hours updating some fairly crucial parts of the heating and plumbing systems that really should have been updated a good twenty years ago. Quite why this involved completely emptying the contents of three cupboards and relocating them to the dining table is beyond me.
<<Goes to check on the baby who is being uncharacteristically noisy settling down to sleep. She’s turned onto her front and is stuck. I turn her over and Henry is deployed.>>
I had another middle-aged housewife moment today – apparently these days instead of sunbathing, the first thing that springs to mind on a sunny day is how many loads of washing can I get done to dry on the line. Rock and/or roll.
Food-wise, today has been a bit of a carb-fest.
Breakfast: Weetabix (having a blob of which in each hand seems to be a good time to show off your new-found clapping skills)
Dinner: Ham and mozzarella sandwich. Milk from a sippy cup for the first time; no problem.
Tea: Houmous and flatbread at the pub while meeting one of Daddy’s friends
Henry Two 