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And other outright lies.

Dave’s away this weekend, rather unwisely leaving me in charge. It’s been five hours of single-parenthood, 1.5 of which Teddy’s been asleep, and I’m already knackered. Teddy – like many toddlers, I fear – isn’t entirely sure when he’s tired. He’ll start rubbing his eyes and looking a bit moon-faced, then he’ll hit the over-excited climbing-up-the-stairs bit, then he’ll enter into the NO-I-AM-NOT-TIRED-ARE-YOU-MENTAL-I-JUST-WANT-TO-PLAY-WITH-THAT-CAR bit, which tends to be a bit trying. At this stage, I start gently suggesting that he, you know, might want to look at a book, or that he might want Monkey, or that he might want to have a cuddle with mummy. All of my gentle suggestions are met with a firm hand to the face. But eventually, slowly, and not without some tears because mummy was the meanest person in the world and started reading Meg & The Moon anyway, when actually what was really needed was Maisie Goes To The Library, Teddy will relent. He’s a morning sort of person, and likes to replenish his energy around 10.30 or so.

As I say, Dave’s away – and he left at 4am. It didn’t feel like I slept much between then and Teddy waking up at 6.45, but I must have done because something involving locking a kitten in the boot of a car was involved, and we don’t have a kitten (which is probably just as well). Suffice to say, I’m pooped. But as soon as Teddy went down, I had to do these things (goodness I love a bullet point, me):

  • Have a shower
  • Make myself look notawfulornotmuchanyway
  • Retrieve washing from tumble dryer
  • Put dirty washing in washing machine
  • Pack bag for this afternoon’s excursion: clothes, nappies, drink, snacks, sunhat, suncream, blah, blah, BLAH
  • Take pram – in two sections – down front steps and assemble
  • Sort out Teddy’s lunch so I don’t have to cook it when he’s woken up
  • Ibid re: supper

Actually, in reference to that last point. Firstly, yes, it’s supper – I hold no truck with these tea and dinner people. Secondly, in this particular instance, I’ve outdone myself organisationally speaking. I’ve chopped up teeny tiny bits of ham and teeny tiny bits of mushroom to cook in a pasta sauce at about 5ish. That’s pretty hot, right? I’m speaking, of course, in terms of Getting Things Done And Generally Being Amazing rather than in a sexy sort of way. It’s a new kind of a hot. A practical kind. The best kind. And finally:

  • Write a post

Napping is for losers. The kinds of losers who have children that have to wait a minute or two before lunch. The kind that might not have two changes of clothes in the change bag just in case. The kind that don’t use the very worst kind of anatomical swear word repeatedly in front of their toddler – the one who is learning a new word every day, even if the consonants aren’t quite in place – because the pram is misbehaving and they might be a teensy bit tired. Yep, those kinds. Massive, massive losers.