It was a funny old weekend that was. We had no plans, and now that I'm no longer working full time, I didn't feel the urgency to cram our weekend with endless socialising and fun. But, in the end, it was probably a teeny bit boring. And I'm not sure if it was a rebellion against the slow weekend, or the terrible two's arriving a few months early - or a combination of both - but you've been incredibly full on. Tantrums at everything and nothing. You want it all done to your specific and exhaustive requirements, immediately. Just getting you dressed is turning into a loathsome task, often ending in a wrestle after negotiations fail. It's beyond exhausting. I'm trying to meet your frustration with gentle patience. But it's hard. And I think it's fair to say I've failed miserably on many occasions. I took myself off to an afternoon film yesterday, thinking the break would renew my strength for the upcoming week where Shane's going to be working some long hours and it'll just be me and you and your will home alone. And I think it worked. We had a marvellous morning singing at rhyme time at the library, followed by a delicious treat that's become something of a ritual for us, of a sausage roll* and sauce (the treat, of course, being mostly in the sauce - more sauce Mummy!), from the health food store. More mornings like this, please.
*spinach & cheese roll. But who would know what was in it with that much sauce.