In a nutshell. Hmm, don't even know how to start.
I'll go with the highlights.
Nope.. I won't even do that.
We finally moved to the country and even though we've only been here for four weeks, it feels like so much has happened.
I suppose it did not help that the boy pretty much screamed his head off every night all through the night BoyzIIMen and all night long Lionel Ritchie styles for the first weeks all the way up until a few days ago.
The eureka moment being that he has moved into his own room for the first time. Guess he was sick of mummy and daddy waking him up every time we tossed, turned or snored. Or maybe we just smell and he didn't like it. We probably did smell. Weeks of sleeplessness does induce chronic halitosis and unshoweredness.
Now that he only wakes once or twice a night I have slowly morphed back into a proper human. No more walking around town in dishevelled hair, spit on my pyjama top posing as a real top.
I have even found the time to bake. And so I feel my move to the country is complete. Me baking anything is absolutely unheard of before now. That I managed to make anything that appears remotely edible without burning the house down is a miracle.
And Lord knows we need a miracle this week. I won't dwell on it but the poopshot (like an upshot but bad?) for the week involves a husband with a broken collarbone, bogans - ahem, I mean unsavoury types not giving way in their cars, a burglary, and a husband devastated by the loss of his most prized possession. We have basically called the police at least once a week for one reason or another. A series of unfortunate events seems to have plagued us.
I will try to ignore the ominous feeling I get every time I see moths in the house. I keep telling myself I am not a superstitious person and that all is well.
Let's just all say a prayer that people are finally getting some sleep in this household. And then let us all eat cake.