Wednesday, 21 March 2012
I am well. I say this in the most solemn of tones to indicate the gravity of the situation. It has been such a long time since I've been able to breathe, this is quite a momentous moment. It all started about seven weeks ago, following an ill advised hangover. The kids had been batting some kind of virus around for a couple of weeks and as usual I pressed on through, not a whisper of a symptom on my radar.
I drink vodka, I mean when I drink, I drink vodka. On the pretence that it doesn't give me a hangover. Turns out if you drink enough of it, it does - who knew! Well actually I did about ten years ago but like labour pains I have erased my groggy twenty-something Sunday mornings from my grey matter.
We had some of our dearest friends over that night and you know when there's that kind of glow to the evening; everyone's having such a good time, it seems a shame to end it. And too rude to go and put your pyjamas on. Once it got past midnight though, it became a bit of a novelty. Could it be, we had reached the time in our parenting careers that we can indulge in a proper sesh? No we had not.
What's worse is that I distinctly remember regaling those present with the story of Baby Girl's nocturnal activities, claiming, "I've got used to being up every night. I only really need four hours sleep. I'm a lot like the SAS". I got exactly four hours sleep that night. I have had a constant reminder for the past seven weeks that I am not anything like the SAS.
Oh hello Winter, back like a boomerang I see.