Bored followers of my stupid ranting, will be acutely aware that my family have just sludged through a bout of the common cold. You don’t need to remind me, that reading that kind of drivel is as boring as having a cold yourself. Then came the terror and suprise of Aidan poking a plastic stick into his sister’s eye at 6am. Oh that screaming. She survived of course but I learnt two things, little people heal suprisingly quickly and public primary schools will not administer an eye cream at all, let alone at 3 hourly intervals.
The most recent attack on parental sanity arrived in the form of a phone call from the childcare centre announcing that Aidan had a raging rash and must be taken out of care immediately. There goes the rest of this week – how to balance the baby boy and the heavy metal workload.
Now in the scheme of things, I’ve been lucky. And in the greater scheme of things that unfolds around me, my family have been incredibly fortunate and I am almost loathe to complain about these slights.
But I have my cranky pants on this week.. so that makes everything more dreadful than it really should be. Yes, I’m sorry I have to move that meeting or arrive a bit later. I’m sorry for the inconvenience to everyone.. and yet why does my sorry sound like I’m saying sorry for having kids that need attending to? I’m not. I’m not sorry for my kids or how they intercept with everything I do now. Whether that is how they become the subject sometimes of what I write, or how sometimes they just want to crawl into our bed, (even when the clock clearly says 3.45am).
I think I’m going to write more about this, but it is time to turn off the moonlight in the kids room. Sorry.