my mornings are very different now, for the last 7 years I have got up at 6am made Daisy's packed lunch as well as her breakfast before getting myself ready. Emin is convinced she will phone me from Uni to ask where her breakfast is since she will often wait a whole day hoping someone will place food on the table!
She is however being broken in gently by staying at my mothers for 3 weeks with the intention of getting a job, the application of which I even filled in for her the other day. Seriously this is parenting at it's worst.
Annnnyway so now I go to work alone, seven years we travelled together, it is so very strange going without her. I also get the urge each and everyday to travel in the opposite direction to work, I am fine about work but I always get that desire to just go and walk around London instead.
As I commented on materfamilias blog the mountain of paperwork that I am wading through has meant a low blog profile for me, that and walking the dog, going to the gym, feeding the girls.....If there is one luxury I would like in life it would be a personal chef, I get so tired of thinking of what to eat, the limitations of their likes and dislikes are so great we seem to repeat the same food over and over like bloody groundhog day, i feel I have to tread that hideous tight rope of cop out ready meals V homemade food, I normally give in by Thursday and pray they visit their father for the weekend!
3 comments:
I had forgotten that you've been making the daily commute with Daisy -- that will be a big change and no wonder you're missing her so much!
There are dangers to having a personal chef, you know . . . with Paul's retirement I have one, but pushing away from the table is a tough and necessary discipline or I'll be shopping in the Plus Size shops!
It must feel so strange to not have your commute partner And, while we are taking orders, I too would like a personal chef and then perhaps a personal trainer to help me work of the chef's meals.
Yes I forgot the downside to good food is an expanding waistline. No wonder my girls are so tiny!
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