I recently subscribed to Runners World magazine, iPad edition, through Amazon. It is a great read. This month's issue is dedicated to the 2013 Boston Marathon. I read it non stop and realised what a privilege it is to have a working, moving body. NO FFS.
I've been paying more attention to my body and actually enjoying moving it. In fact, getting downright non-endorphin'd when unable to run. FFS.
M calls them 'Dorpins' or 'Dolphins'. It took us a few days to work out what she meant when she asked Mr S 'Daddy, do you get dorpins from riding your bike?'. NO FFS.
She throws a lot of threenager tantrums at the moment. FFS.
I thought 'Terrible Twos' was... terrible. It was not. FFS.
A lovely young couple have bought the house next door to us and have been renovating a storm before their wedding this week. They are completely lovely. I'm certain they think I'm a stalker, as I offer them cookies, tomatoes, zucchinis. I feel like a bit of a stalker doing it, but it's how we roll in the country. I just have trouble remembering their names, and I mixed it all up again today. I get nervous meeting new people and then I'm pretty much convinced they hate me. FFS.
I'm not getting much sleep at the moment. Daylight saving can go and get f... take a running jump. M & P have been greeting the world between 5-6am most mornings. FFS.
They're both a bit unwell, and last night went a little like...
10.30pm: lights out.
12.30am: M awake. Mr S attends. M asleep.
2.30am: M awake. Making a strange sound. Realise she's sounding like she's got croup. (FFS!) Mr S brings panadol, a vaporiser and a drink.
3.30am: lights out.
5am: P awake. Feed, nappy change and back to bed.
5.30am: lights out.
6am: Mr S's alarm goes off.
6.07am: Mr S's alarm goes off.
6.14am: Mr S's alarm goes off.
6.21am: P awakens. Mr S's alarm goes off.
6.40am: M awakens.
FFS.
M and I baked cookies today. I froze 3 dozen dough balls, baked 2 dozen and gave M a sheet of non-chocolated cookies to decorate with sprinkles. She ate a lot of sprinkles, licked the beater, tasted the butter, tasted both kinds of sugar and lost it when I wouldn't let her eat any more ANYTHING. FFS.
We baked them, they cooled, we had one each. NO FFS.
We were outside and I noticed that M suddenly had a neverending biscuit. I asked how many she had eaten. She said 5. FFS.
Her counting is excellent, but 5 could actually mean 7. FFS.
She then threw an awesome tantrum about her socks, her shoes, how neither fit, her feet hurt, she didn't want to go outside, her socks, her shoes, her feet hurt, she didn't want to go outside... FFS. It made me think of this:
She locked herself in her room. I thought seriously about continuing to garden outside and leave her to it. However, I tucked her into bed, said 'nite nite', closed the door. I came back 15min later to see her snoring. NO FFS.
It was 4pm. FFS.
I came back again 15 min later to hear screaming. FFS.
And finally, M is trying to drop her day sleep.
I'll let the gravity of that statement fully sink in for you.
