Time To Wake Up To Myself
byI wouldn’t dream of hurting my kids…or so I thought.
I wouldn’t dream of hurting my kids…or so I thought.
Dear dairy industry: This has gone on way too long and people are suffering. Read as, I suffered this one time and I didn’t like it…
I think the biggest issue with having Master24 and his girlfriend living with us for a few months is going to be our children’s contraceptiveness…
I know there are some people out there who think setting an alarm for 7.45am on a school day is pretty good, but I’ve always suspected we can do better…
I think the first thing I should mention, before I get into tonight’s post, is Tracey’s Mum and I get along just fine and there is no emotional tug-of -war or uncomfortable silences when I’m with her. Historically speaking.
“Is that for me?” Tracey asked me this morning as I made myself a coffee. “Not this one,” I muttered. “I didn’t sleep real well last night.” Mistake…
We’d both decided, without a word to each other, to not get up this morning. If only we’d remembered to tell our youngest child.
If the staff ever wonder why I look stressed when I arrive at work in the morning, this should enlighten them. This was last Friday.
“We’ve got to go!” I called out to our school aged kids. Suddenly there was a flurry of activity. Not. The dog glanced up briefly.
I’ve noticed, over the years I’ve been with my wife, a worrying lack of nooky on those rare mornings we both happen to wake up before our children. Sure, there’s snuggling, huggling and sometimes canoodling, but no nooky.
I like to edge my way towards consciousness in the morning, rather than be jolted awake by circumstances outside my slumber.
My least favourite way to be woken up on a weekend is being climbed over by one of the kids in an effort for them to hunker down between me and their mum.