I am so tired.
Not the tiredest, that was Sunday, and even then I was just the tiredest me, and yet somehow only the third most tired person in the house, thanks to Hannah basically taking the adorable, sleepless bullet that was a slightly feverish, definitely insomniac baby.
On Friday night she went down with a struggle and was up again early. I managed to persuaded her to sit with me and watch about two hours of Muppets before she went back to Mummy and Hannah insisted I sleep on the sofa for the rest of the night so one of us was vaguely rested. Saturday night was not dissimilar, but with more concern about the temperature.
Sunday night was grand, but we got very spooked in the morning when she spiked up around 40 degrees.
Anyway, this isn't my baby blog, so I'm mostly planning to talk about Christmas, but I'm probably not going to make much sense. That's the point of the above, in as much as it has one.
Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat. I'm losing weight (yay fear and stress over a sick baby. No, wait...) Christmas shopping is almost completely done. Christmas cooking is underway; my fridge is full of curing fish** and fudge, including a block of Nigella's Shame (a delicious blend of sugar, butter, condensed milk, more sugar, syrup, Catholic self-loathing and self-aware sin) which is effectively a combination Christmas treat and emergency hypoglycemia treatment, and which I was tired enough to consider mainlining last night. I need to buy and cook ham for Christmas breakfast.
We went to the local Christmas fair a little while ago. I got the hilarious Blade trilogy at the DVD stall, Arya showed admirable distrust of a man in a false beard offering her gifts, and as we learned last night, Hannah won a quilt! Also, due to missing a train from Ely I was obliged to take a turn up to the market square and buy some Christmas Turkish delight. There's a van where they sell the real deal; not that jelly crap they mass market, but the proper 'sell your soul to a random chick in a sleigh' kind of Turkish delight.
I guess what I'm saying is that although sleep was a hard thing to come by this weekend, we have a lot to be grateful for, and I am very grateful for it.
* Title may not make sense to those not reading my baby blog.
** Just don't; it's been done to death.
Not the tiredest, that was Sunday, and even then I was just the tiredest me, and yet somehow only the third most tired person in the house, thanks to Hannah basically taking the adorable, sleepless bullet that was a slightly feverish, definitely insomniac baby.
On Friday night she went down with a struggle and was up again early. I managed to persuaded her to sit with me and watch about two hours of Muppets before she went back to Mummy and Hannah insisted I sleep on the sofa for the rest of the night so one of us was vaguely rested. Saturday night was not dissimilar, but with more concern about the temperature.
Sunday night was grand, but we got very spooked in the morning when she spiked up around 40 degrees.
Anyway, this isn't my baby blog, so I'm mostly planning to talk about Christmas, but I'm probably not going to make much sense. That's the point of the above, in as much as it has one.
Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat. I'm losing weight (yay fear and stress over a sick baby. No, wait...) Christmas shopping is almost completely done. Christmas cooking is underway; my fridge is full of curing fish** and fudge, including a block of Nigella's Shame (a delicious blend of sugar, butter, condensed milk, more sugar, syrup, Catholic self-loathing and self-aware sin) which is effectively a combination Christmas treat and emergency hypoglycemia treatment, and which I was tired enough to consider mainlining last night. I need to buy and cook ham for Christmas breakfast.
We went to the local Christmas fair a little while ago. I got the hilarious Blade trilogy at the DVD stall, Arya showed admirable distrust of a man in a false beard offering her gifts, and as we learned last night, Hannah won a quilt! Also, due to missing a train from Ely I was obliged to take a turn up to the market square and buy some Christmas Turkish delight. There's a van where they sell the real deal; not that jelly crap they mass market, but the proper 'sell your soul to a random chick in a sleigh' kind of Turkish delight.
I guess what I'm saying is that although sleep was a hard thing to come by this weekend, we have a lot to be grateful for, and I am very grateful for it.
* Title may not make sense to those not reading my baby blog.
** Just don't; it's been done to death.
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