Fitting too much in

We stayed up late last night watching comedy on the television, when really I should have had an early night. This morning we dragged ourselves upright and took our daughter for her swimming lesson. Last week she howled for half an hour, but this week, despite it being chillier and raining, she was quite happy to be in the water, kicking her legs as we persuaded her to pursue a small plastic ball. The extra sleep she had on the way to class probably helped.

Not learning from her example, we didn’t go back to bed, but instead met up with an old friend of mine from university, who’d recently moved to Hong Kong, and was in town for the weekend.

We caught up: I heard about lots of mutual acquaintances who were also now parents, and how some of them seem to have adjusted to that status while others appeared baffled and confused by the presence of children in their lives. I’m not sure what he thought of my parenting: there was one low point where I cruelly taunted my daughter by offering her paper napkins and then not letting her eat them. Then again, I let her play with my ID card, so I can’t be all bad.

Finally, about 4:30 we went our separate ways, but instead of having a nap and eating lots of carbohydrates, I went over to a friend’s place for a birthday party, which involved lots of standing around eating crisps (there was scant vegetarian food on offer) while children ran around, screaming. That lasted for three hours, while my eyelids drooped as my body tried to make it clear to me that it was time to get some shut-eye ahead of the race. We took a taxi home, and after readying the bedroom for La Serpiente, I went to bed at the glorious hour of 8pm, waking up in the spare room an hour later, sweaty and confused. Which is the same state as normal, I suppose. I’m now beginning to worry about whether I’m capable of the impending half marathon, now only two and three quarter hours away. I suppose I’m no more than five hours away from a medal and a slow walk home…

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