I have a board meeting Monday, remember?
Huh? As I flipped on the coffee maker Saturday morning, hubby still in PJs, I stared blankly at the coffee grounds. Erm, no I don’t remember. It really didn’t matter. This was all code of course. He wanted me to occupy the girls for a couple hours while he locked himself in the office.
So … off we went to Cafe Nero. I let the girls put on whatever they wanted — which manifested in a rainbow of pink leggings, green and yellow summer dresses and navy jumpers. I pulled on the first thing I could find — Gap curvy jeans with some sort of splotch on the leg (toothpaste? gravy?) and the gray and pink Laura Ashely jumper I've been living in all winter.
Oh well, it was still early, maybe we wouldn't run into anyone we knew.
OK, this is proof I need a break.
Last night I woke up around 3 am. The sheets slightly were damp. My heart dancing in my throat. It was all so real.
My worry? I had a blog somewhere that I needed to update. I just couldn't find it. I couldn't remember what clever name I had christened it. Tired Mummies? No. Mummies on the run? No. Mums Need Drugs? No. No. No.
Oh, where was it? I knew it must be in need of a new post and it must be time to respond to comments. Where, where, where?
The end of the year is a time to reflect; 365 days, 600 packed lunches, 183 blog posts. Here's a list of some of my favourites…
1. The dry spell: Have you ever had one? Come on, admit it. I'm sure you have…
2. I woke up one morning and realised: OHMYGOD — I'm Scottish.
3. The fleeting moment … or just mummy rot? Someone told me once that you lose 10 percent of your brain cells with the birth of each child. I had three in quick succession, you do the math.
