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The Redster: Four years
Babeling: Nine months

I could blog every day, if I wanted to. No problem. It’s just a question of priorities after all. Just a simple choice between the following:

a) Blogging
b) Living in a house which is not repulsive
c) Getting enough sleep.

So last night I left the babeling’s supper remains where they landed on the floor, an Ikea bag full of wet washing to rot on the landing, a sink full of washing up ‘soaking’ in the kitchen and blogged until past my bedtime. (My other blog that is.) Fortunately this time I got away with it because our marvellous new lodger did the washing up. Two out of three definitely isn’t bad and the laundry isn’t even that smelly.

I’m sure I used to have leisure time, before the babeling. Now if I had leisure time, I’d probably use it to de-scale the kettle, or maybe the toilet. I don’t know why the leap from one to two children is such a time-consuming one – but it did occur to me as I was hanging up washing the other day that I was doing laundry for FOUR WHOLE people. And feeding them and washing them and cleaning up after them… (to be fair, babyfather does more or less wash himself.) Suddenly, I’m running an institution.

So, having made the decision to stay at home with my children rather than go out to work, it seems that all day I’m grunting to them over my shoulder while I do housework. So much for my vision of making potato prints for hours on end between improving visits to local museums etc.

Can anyone spot any light at the end of my tunnel?

On a lighter note, my frazzled sister found time to point this out to me:

And what is it about parenthood that inspires such frantic singing?:

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The Redster: Four years old
Babeling: Nine months

The Redster: I spy with my little eye something beginning with ‘ch’.
Babymother. Hmm. Inside the train or outside the train?
R: Outside the train.
BM: Um – church.
R: No.
BM: Chimney.
R: No.
BM: Charity shop.
R: No.
BM:Chocolate factory.
R: No.
BM: Chain gang?
R: No.
BM: Oh, I don’t know – give me a clue.
R: We see them in the park!
BM: Chechnyans?
R: No!
BM: I give up.
R: Trees!

Four