The house is strangely quiet. The FB is out somewhere with my mother (who is staying with us for 2 weeks to help out), the Count is (as to be expected for it is daylight) asleep in his moses basket, and I have given up searching for a new house for today and am reading "The Secret Life of a Slummy Mummy", I should be hanging up the laundry and getting dinner ready.
Over the last few days I've written so many posts in my head, most of them about life with a baby and all of them have been relegated to the rubbishbin in my brain.
Instead possibly a flow of consciousness (I can not spell today at all)...
stitches have pretty much healed hurrah! The FB is behaving much better (he became incredibly disobedient for a few days and moped and whined whenever told off), the Count has worked out how to breastfeed (I do so wish that La Lerche or whatever they are called would admit that it takes time to learn how to do this) and last night slept from 1.30 to 6.30. The flat hunt is going terribly - it seems if we want to own our own home (in a size slightly larger than a matchbox) then the best we can hope for is living in a crackden which is what we were offered today! And renting a 3 bedroom well if we can afford the rent then the travel costs are astronomical and if we can afford the travel then the rent is thousands per month. So I have no idea what we are going to do and we are running out of time, and as MrV has a. loads of freelance and b. a wedding that he has got to attend, he hasn't got time to look. I think what I need is a glass, no make that a jug, of pimms and a PA.
As for me, well I am reading 3 books at the same time, and cross stitching this picture of Wandsworth Common. Maybe by the time the Count starts school I'll have it finished.