What a week it has been over here, which started last Saturday evening when our youngest daughter became acutely unwell, which quickly resulted in an ambulance being dispatched, the wonders of A&E at stupid o’clock, and sleep deprivation for the week that followed.
Our eldest is a beautiful soul and up until the years of compulsory education, he was the most free-spirited and damn right hilarious child. Sadly, from the age of four, he has continually struggled with the demands of needing to conforming with the predetermined rules and regulations of the school setting.
It appears that I’m now of an age where I can no longer eat what the hell I like and boast about my super duper metabolism. Nope, now a minute on the lips starts to slide down onto my hips, thereby creating a padded cake shelf, which I could blame on having had four children, but it wasn’t there before the autumnal nights of red wine, chocolate and savoury snacks slipped into my life
I remember the sleepless nights when our eldest child was a colicky newborn, the frustrating times of him being a wilful three-nager, the daily meetings with his reception year teacher over his non-compliant behaviour, and I can even recall the times of the three hundred questions a day inquisitive six year old.
The word January originates from a Latin word meaning “an obligation to ask everyone if they had a nice Christmas” or “What is your new year’s resolution?” Actually, as you have probably already concluded, that is not based on a true story. January is named after Janus, the god of new beginnings and transitions, so there is a tenuous link between making resolutions and new beginnings.