Coordinating efforts

I seem to recall Joyce saying something at some point about it feeling like throwing her offspring up in the air and hoping that Bob would catch, beginning to get an inkling of what that feels like. Except I’m not doing the throwing or catching, just the coordinating, and it feels a bit odd.

So today should have been Tim’s office day, but his back was bad, so Sarah spelled him for a couple of hours, and he’s doing office on Thurs. Which conflicts with ballet, so I’ve just called Grandma into play on that one. Would invite her to stay for tea, but she’s off to the theatre that evening. And I’m worrying slightly about the fuel situation – I can go to and fro 1 1/2 times more before I need to think about filling up, but that would mean queueing on the way home. Think I’ll get up extra early Thurs morning and see if I can fill up on the way there. If not, think I’ll be chucking an overnight bag in the boot, and hoping they’ll take me in off the path 😉

This evening was pleasant – read three books with Small, did a nappy change (so pleased that he’s saving those for after the bath for me 😉 ) and then two chapters of Ballet Diary to Big. Left her reading Hand, Hand to Small while I went to take rubbish to the bin. Came back in to Small screaming on Tim’s knee, having contrived to fall down the stairs in my absence. Didn’t seem to have harmed anything but his pride somehow, which is kind of impressive.

He’s been up and down the stairs several times since, eventually falling asleep in his cot, or so I’m told. And my evening has evaporated, and I haven’t found my passport again.