It seems that it’s not easy being wee and having to get yourself going in the morning all the time, especially if you’ve spent the preceding 24 hours seeing how little sleep you can give your mummy and daddy; and poor Doglet too, who is the only one of us who never actually signed up to this gig!
After the very long day for all of us yesterday, Marcail was using today to catch up on her beauty sleep, so we got quite a bit done and had a bit of a mental catch up day. The three of us headed off to the shops this afternoon to change some clothes and get some more food and missing ingredients for dinner. The main stop was Mothercare to look for a sun hat since we have had a lot of bright weather and we need to protect that little noggin. A clip on parasol for the buggy was another purchase; we’ll see how long it is before a vicious westerly sees to that though! That all went swimmingly and the little darling slept right through. Job done, now off to Tesco.
The supermarket didn’t go quite so well! I don’t know if you’ve ever seen Supermarket Sweep, presented by Dale Winton. To be truthful, unless you’re a student or stay at home mom in the UK you probably won’t have seen it and you really should not feel deprived! The premise really, is someone gets to run around a supermarket flinging whatever they can into their trolley; or so I have been reliably informed by a student mother I met once at the chess club of an evening. Cue little miss sweetie pie waking up and being really rather keen to eat, like, err, NOW! Our first experience of express shopping. Debs running around with the trolley and me with Marcail over my shoulder (the only place she seemed happy) using the erstwhile car seat buddy as a proxy trolley. All the time conviced that everyone else in the shop is thinking “Will you just look at those terrible parents, you know social services really should have stronger powers…“
Peace was finally restored at home with the opening of the right hand branch of Debs’ Milk Bar, an establishment which comes with the highest recommendation from Marcail. Dinner was the next juggling act as Denise from Calgary was coming round on a visit. But we’re starting to get into a routine here. But don’t mistake routine for regular schedule. It’s like frequent and regular; totally different concepts. Most people we spoke to say you can’t get into a routine for ages with a newborn. I disagree, you can, it is simply not regular in any way shape or form.
Just at the end of desert it struck. The floor trembled, the dog’s ears went back in pain and the birds flew from the trees. It was our first attack of the thunderpants.And let us be in no doubt, it is every bit as tremulous as people may have you believe. But, oh what joy to be able to get away with that without so much as a by your leave, in polite company, and have those present take only the merest pause from their discourse on the relative merits of one Austen sister over another.
As Mrs. B and Denise from Calgary were still tucking in to their (somewhat aptly named) “Dark, Fudgy and Moist Chocolate Brownie Cake” the garden deck was the best choice for a change location. Even after this perfomance, Denise from Calgary still felt able to bestow on Marcail a gift; such is the power of adorable babies. If I’d done it, she would have left without even finishing her pud! As it was, Marcail is now the proud owner of a cunning strawberry disguise. When she is red faced with crying I expect the illusion will be complete. In the mean time, I must join her in the land of nod.