The long Monday after the hard weekend

Today was my first day without booze since Thursday. I felt dreadful. Bloated, nauseous, foul smells emanating from my body as I walked La Serpiente to school. (Well, I walked, she hooned off on her scooter and waited for me at various points on the footpath, I assume calculated to be the most derisory.) After I had dropped her off and failed to unlock three different obikes, I went to the station and very carefully chosen the train going in the wrong direction, only realising after three stops that the reason the carriage was so spacious and I had a seat to sit on was because every single person was travelling in the other direction, and worse, that was the way I’d be having to go too. So, a good case for buying a coffee machine and installing it at home. Continue reading “The long Monday after the hard weekend”

Dreading Dread Zeppelin and other Saturday morning nonsense

I slept in today, trying to rest my neck as much as possible, and when at last my wife could no longer deal with the high volume yelling of the children, I hauled myself out of bed, took a painkiller and we went out to our closest café for extra breakfast. Or rather, breakfast for me and the wife, and babycinno for our daughters, in between their constant gambolling and squeaking. Continue reading “Dreading Dread Zeppelin and other Saturday morning nonsense”

Quiet night in

I was a ruin today, sleeping in until 9, then still exhausted and needing to nap in the afternoon. But come nightfall, when the kids were asleep and friends came round to visit, and we cracked open two different bottles of gin (Sipsmith sloe gin and Margaret River botanical) I finally felt alive again.

We played a game of Carcassonne and two of Blokus, and I had three gins, and in all this time neither of our children woke up and came out to complain at us. It has becomr clear that the most reliable way to get them down is to make sure they’re fairly tired, put them in a darkened room, tell them you’ll be back in five minutes, and then leave and don’t go back.

It works – will it instill a complex that requires deep therapy in twenty years’time? Who’s to say?

Anyway, I drank a lot of gin, I suddenly remembered that I’ve failed to collect my statin prescription for a few weeks, and that in turn means perhaps I shouldn’t have eaten so much cheese tonight. Guess I’ll have to go running tomorrow then.

Further tears before bedtime

So tonight it was my turn again to put Destroyer down. This would be the last time before her second birthday, and she marked it in style by being quite copacetic while I read her the story of Little Miss Magic, and then literally climbing the walls, screaming constantly for her mother, once I put the lights out and tried to get her to lie down.

“No Daddy, no!” the howls continued for quite some time, until she gave up climbing on me to open the door, and settled down on the floor, where she lay with her head on my legs, sobbing occasionally, and refusing utterly when I tried to make her more comfortable with a pillow to lie upon.
Continue reading “Further tears before bedtime”

Quiet night in

My wife had her Zumba class this evening, which meant I couldn’t go to the track. Instead, I gave the girls their baths and then put Destroyer to bed. “No!” she protested grumpily every time I tried to get her to lie down, demanding I read her Matilda’s Cat, a book with a great paucity of words.
Continue reading “Quiet night in”

Tears before bedtime

It’s International Women’s Day today, and looking back over the many years I’ve been writing this blog, I’ve never made mention of it before. Today, though, to celebrate it I gave my wife the night off and a total break from child management duties. 

Not really. She was going out on the lash so I was left holding the babies. 

Not really. She was sick with the same horrorshow La Serpiente had on Sunday, so she couldn’t go out drinking. 

Not really. Well, she could still go out of the apartment.
Continue reading “Tears before bedtime”