Twelve Hours

Last night, after Destroyer screamed at me because I couldn’t find Chicka Chicka Boom Boom to read to her, I fell asleep on her bed. My wife came in after an hour and woke me, and I went into our room, lay on the bed and woke up at 9 this morning, wearing the clothes I’d put on yesterday. I guess a week of four hour sleeps every night has a way of catching up with you.
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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.
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Holding the babies

This morning I felt predictably dreadful, after drinking as much as I could last night and then sleeping on the floor next to Destroyer. (Neither she nor her sister woke up, so they were fresh and ready at 7 am to start yelling at us for entertainment.) I drank tea, I drank coffee, we took the girls home and cajoled them to nap, and then I fell asleep on La Serpiente’s floor (notice this leitmotif of the weekend) and awoke 20 minutes later with both my arms completely numbed. I flopped around like a fish for a while, then dragged myself off to watch cartoons for half an hour until the kids both woke up again, and we redeployed to the National Library.
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Earlyish to rise and early to bed

We got up earlyish and headed into Margaret River for breakfast: coffee and a doughnut for me, and croissants and muffin for the ladies. We ate them in a cosy little bakery with old furniture and pictures of Freda Kahlo on the walls, and possibly some horsehair, because by the end I was gagging and sneezing. Out we went into the world outside, and my wife took La Serpiente and Destroyer up to the shops to buy nappies, while I fetched the car so they wouldn’t take umbrage at walking all the way home.

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Driven to distraction

This morning I took La Serpiente to school; with my wife still sick and Destroyer also not 100%, I felt bad about abandoning them to the school run while I went off to my meetings. And besides, I could just get a taxi after depositing La Serpiente, and still arrive in time, right?

As ever, how wrong could I be?
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A bit too early to bed.

I was meant to go out on a team-building dinner this evening, to drink the finest wines available to humanity and probably some food, but it seemed undiplomatic at best to abandon my wife when she was caring for two sick kids and wasn’t feeling that bright herself. So instead I went home, helped out with the baths, read both my daughters a chapter from their enormous Totorro book, and then put Destroyer down to sleep.
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Pizza the action

After almost a year and a half (since a dreadful bout of food poisoning from badly prepared pasta sauce that she then associated with a pizza), La Serpiente has begun eating pizza again. She asked for it today, and we were too tired to cook tonight, plus I had a migraine and pizza is the traditional pre-run food I rely on, so we got two margarita pizzas from Extra Virgin. The bases were nicely cooked, crunchy scorch marks and all, but the cheese topping was a little overdone. The girls, already full of salmon, didn’t care and carried on eating. As long as I got four slices, I was happy too. 

Afterwards, I entertained Destroyer by having her run between my legs. Unfortunately she’s now slightly too tall, so she sprints at me, forgets to duck her head and headbutts me in the crotch, which for her is a great fun way to spend the evening, but for me is not ideal race prep. I suppose one source of pain is the same as another. 

The kids went to sleep quickly again tonight. Destroyer didn’t nap today (for no good reason we can discern) and both of them had gone swimming today, so putting them down was very easy. That left me to worry about the migraines I’ve been having, and to blame them on my awful diet. Of late I’ve eaten so much sugar: cans of Coke, free ice cream in the office, and other garbage like salt and vinegar crisps. It sounds ridiculous to do things in this order, but from next week, once the marathon is done, I’m really going to have to sort out my diet. 

But not the pizza. I’m keeping that.