- Hosting NCT Christmas lunch: Remember my Open House post ? This was as good as it gets, baby armageddon…16 adults, 8 nippers, Secret Santa and about 20 plates of finger food – mostly on the floor or caked on a baby’s face.
- My partners cock ups: No car tax disc, forgetting she’d invited someone over for dinner, not paying a deposit for a nursery. A clown like performance from my wife.
- Syra wants to walk: She can’t, so whenever I’m sat down on my lap top she does the next best thing and climbs up my leg forcing me to abandon typing. Her assent is normally cut short when she smacks her head on part of the chair… crying swiftly follows.
- Cabin fever. Yep, I heard another Mum saying this last week and I too found I was a bit part in a bad movie from the 90s. Snowed in, 8 hours to kill, the lap top shelved, my dignity in tatters as I sang an entire book of Christmas carols with all the actions to boot. No time for blogging here.
- Writers block: I fear i’ve entered that worrying stage which long time Mum’s have long warned me about. Mental breakdown. Gone are the days of editorial critique and multi syllable chats , welcome to high pitched squeals and Igglepiggle, Upsy Daisy and The Ninky Nonk. 1st week back at work and, well, we will be technically screwed. Congratulations you’ve been diagnosed with Mummy Brain, your career outlook is dismal. Shit even.
- Sainsbury’s meltdown: Nostradamus predicted the end of the world in 2012, and by the looks of things me and several thousand shoppers were entering the abyss at 3pm on Saturday after a week of snow. A record 3 hour shop for 12 shopping items and a self service till to end the day with. Crud.
- I made a snow man: using peppers, blueberries and thyme, some of Syra’s favorite food stuffs.