Well, there’s nothing like starting off your day with a pap smear and blood test! Or being woken by the whining of … sorry, laughter of little children.
Destructoboy’s 3rd birthday today – but I had to race off to a doctor’s appointment for the aforementioned checks (my strategy for not spending time in waiting rooms revolves around trying to get the first appointment of the day, before they get a chance to run too far behind – I have been known to give doctors a bill for my time – charged at my consultancy rates!).
He has been asking for a torch for ages (so did Princess for her 3rd birthday) so he got a Torch truck and various other goodies. This afternoon some friends are bringing their littlies around for a visit and afternoon tea. This will involve fairy bread (it’s not really a birthday without fairy bread), chips (crisps), apple tea cake and muffins. You can see I’m going all out on this one!
Truth to tell, I’m just exhausted. I’ve still got the lurking lurgy, I’ve got a convalescent husband (I keep snapping ‘it’s not as bad as a c-section, stop being such a girl’), I’m still chasing my daughter with eye drops and at least Destructoboy can be fairly said to be toilet trained now. Quite frankly, I’d be happy to go to bed, lock the door and let them fight over a packet of mixed lollies for dinner!
Why is it that mothers are always so tired? How come we never seem to get any time off? Heavens above, you only get 10 years for murder – and you’re likely to have time off for good behaviour!
I don’t even get to go to the toilet without small voices outside demanding to be let in – afraid that I’ll sneak out the bathroom window and run away if they don’t keep their eyes on me. (And don't think I haven't been tempted!)
On a lighter note, I re-knitted the heels on the 3 socks my Crocs ate. This took up valuable knitting time, but it’s like finishing 3 pairs of socks all at once!!! I also cast on for the second Turtle Walk sock. I had a parcel from England yesterday with Rowanspun mist grey DK, and I’m waiting for the arrival of some Yorkshire Aran. Apart from the purchase of some yarn for the Happy Clappy KAL, I’m not going to buy any wool for a while.
Well probably not. Unless it’s a bargain. Or too beautiful to resist. Or sock yarn. Or something involving silk. Or cashmere.
Oh, poop! Who am I trying to kid? We all know that if I have money, or room on my credit card, that I will buy more yarn if it offers itself to me. Even if I have to chase it down and crash tackle it!