There was something unsettling about my very quiet mornings whilst I was away skiing with other adults and no children. Nobody spoke. I presume that it was because they didn’t need to. It made me feel as if I had to talk rubbish if necessary to fill the gaps (not difficult, I hear you say). I realise why. It’s impossible to have a morning without speaking as a mother of three children…even if you are on holiday and not having to do the “wash your face, clean your teeth, get dressed, have breakfast” routine. Children talk all the time (unless they’re teenage boys obviously). Tomorrow morning they are all planning a pancake fest before 7.30am which should be interesting. I think though, on balance, I’d go for the chaos every time (I’m saying that now, before my kitchen ceiling is covered in egg, flour and batter, when I will have definately have changed my mind).
Went to see my friend this afternoon. She has broken both ankles falling off a curb whilst wearing wedge heels. What a nightmare. She literally can’t do anything and has to be pushed about in a wheelchair.