Now who’s the exhausted a**ehole?!

Imagine, I’m there drinking another gallon of coffee at 6pm last night in a bid to feel and look less like a dug-up-corpse for parents evening. It had only been microwaved once so I felt like I was transported to Starbucks, Riverside MotherF*cker.

Fast forward to 10pm, I’m ready for our rock-star-bed-time and now Casey is fully unconscious. Meanwhile I’m so caffeinated I can’t feel my face and that mixed with this anxiety bastard that wont let me sleep as of late, plus the anticipation of one of my closest friends about to give birth any moment, I lay there checking my phone every 5 seconds making sure it was still working.

Obviously the second I fell asleep he woke up in a ravenous frenzy demanding alllll the ounces and by the end of the animalistic feed we were both ready for the long nap. He slept for another 6 hours which is up there in epic proportions to normal.

Only to be woken to messages of an out-of-the-blue engagement – the second of the week (feeling the love guys) and the arrival of Baby! I mean at what point could I sleep after that! ❤️💙

 

So its made me realise, if I wasn’t up with Casey, I’d be up for another reason and sometimes, it’s just easier to blame someone else.

 

In other news, while taking out the rubbish this morning, I noticed this little sock situation…

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My sock voluntarily did the roll thing – Circa 1994, Year 2 – where the ‘tighter the roll, the closer to God’ or some shit. And while my love for a sock/sandal combo knows no bounds at the moment, this takes me back to when your social status was based entirely on the roll quality.

How I long to go back to a simpler time.

Hx

Kids say the darndest things.

As we draw ever closer to Christmas and being constantly reminded by my daughter every waking minute, its made me reflect on how much more aware of it all she is this year. The excitement is bursting out of her like a can your friend at school would shake in a bid to soak you in humiliation – Unfortunately in this situation I can’t ‘tap her three times’ to minimise the pent up hysteria.

This time last year she could barely speak, had an offensive barnet, tiny gappy teeth and as the title would suggest, if you asked her to say Christmas her response was “Piss”.

It seems we’ve gone in full circle this past year, from telling everyone “Merry Piss” … to her Tangled obsession where she proceeded to tell adults I’d “locked her in the garden”, her inability to pronounce her ‘R’s has had her repeating “rank” in a less than appropriate manner, dropping something in a supermarket and getting very shouty “oh for fzzks Sake!” to telling the entire nursery staff that “Daddy has a tail” – I will never live that down! to very matter-of-factly tell random adults at parties “I don’t like you” and to just now, when Casey’s milk bottle leaked all over him (damn these anti colic contraptions) when she said “Look, piss! its pissed all over him!” –

Note to self – We really must get that swear jar fixed.

Merry almost Piss-mas!

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Beaux – Christmas 2016

Hx