Easter
is upon us. Er pupo returns in 40 minutes for 5 whole days of our company. Eek! He'll be begging to go back to dagmamma by Tuesday. I'll be begging her to take him by Sunday night.
He is a good little boy. Determined, willful and sure of himself, but good. He tries to act the teenager, too cool for kisses, too busy for cuddles, too confident to hold my hand. But every now and then he forgets himself and shares a special moment where only mamma cuddles will do. I love those moments. He's exactly the kind of kid who will confirm the pseudo-sociological studies that show kids who go to daycare "talk too much" and "argue too much." Bring it on!
I have evil chest virus which means speaking is not an option (insert joke of your choice here). Doc suggested that my "holiday" over the weekend would give me a chance to recover. I suggested he take the boy then.
Hubby changed the tyres today, which means it will snow tomorrow. Skiing is promised over the weekend. On my street. I'll retire with my hot water bottle and tea, while er pupo howls at the door to go out (he's worse than a dog) and hubby "checks his email" and pretends not to notice.
Roma play tonight. Trying to decide whether to brave the bar for the inevitable torture. They seem to do better when I don't look. Perhaps were I in better health I'd be more inclined to risk the heart attack but we'll see. I really believe they'll xxxxxxxxxx. There, I said it. One click and it's in print. OK. changed my mind. Won't print that.
He is a good little boy. Determined, willful and sure of himself, but good. He tries to act the teenager, too cool for kisses, too busy for cuddles, too confident to hold my hand. But every now and then he forgets himself and shares a special moment where only mamma cuddles will do. I love those moments. He's exactly the kind of kid who will confirm the pseudo-sociological studies that show kids who go to daycare "talk too much" and "argue too much." Bring it on!
I have evil chest virus which means speaking is not an option (insert joke of your choice here). Doc suggested that my "holiday" over the weekend would give me a chance to recover. I suggested he take the boy then.
Hubby changed the tyres today, which means it will snow tomorrow. Skiing is promised over the weekend. On my street. I'll retire with my hot water bottle and tea, while er pupo howls at the door to go out (he's worse than a dog) and hubby "checks his email" and pretends not to notice.
Roma play tonight. Trying to decide whether to brave the bar for the inevitable torture. They seem to do better when I don't look. Perhaps were I in better health I'd be more inclined to risk the heart attack but we'll see. I really believe they'll xxxxxxxxxx. There, I said it. One click and it's in print. OK. changed my mind. Won't print that.
posted by ex_pat @ 3:15 PM
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