Apologies for the hiatus. Let me explain.
It's been somewhat of a mental week.
Meg ran into our bedroom at 2:30 Tuesday morning to tell us she had a sore tummy. Seconds later she barfed all over our bed, the floor and bedside cabinet. Miche got it in her hair. Which was nice.
Since then Meg has sweltered on the couch, refusing all but minute sips of water. Now, she's a lithe creature in the best of circumstances so after only three days fasting, her ribs are showing. Thankfully she rediscovered her appetite with a vengeance this morning.
Wednesday morning circa 1:30, Dom discovered that his Cardia isn't yet as robust as his sister's and he yawned in technicolour over the landing on his way to our bedside. I nursed my son throughout the night so that Miche could sleep the night before her birthday.
Work has been a blurry, bleary eyed carousel of slipping deadlines and half baked decisions. And of course, there have been Christmas preparations to make, so any spare brain cycles have been conserved by watching TV.
Today however, I woke up fresh from eight solid hours kip, our children are clamouring for calories and the office closes at 12pm for our annual Christmas knees-up.
I shall return home when I start to believe I'm a good dancer.