Lost The Plot

Today T and I are on our own (apart from possibly an hour when DH comes home for some dinner) and I have finally lost my marbles. Normally DH works shifts and is home at breakfast time so he can help out a bit, but not today. I had a whiny, sticky, strawberry-juice coated baby on one hip while I tried to clean mangled strawberries off the high chair and the floor. Then I had to get us both ready to go to the library group at 10am. T wouldn’t be put down, so I was gathering up library cards, muslins, checking that the nappy bag was fully charged with one hand, while talking to myself, checking things off a mental list. I got him and all the kit in the car, then suddenly remembered and shouted ‘Toby’s book, DH’s cheque!’. I had to go back indoors to collect these items while calling myself an idiot for forgetting.

We were actually early to the library, which is a first for us, so I sat T on the floor to play with his shoes/the patterned carpet. He sat entertaining himself then a mum opposite me gesticulated to me to say that he’d been sick. I mopped up the milky mango that was decorating his top, and he carried on playing, quite unconcerned. We were about to start when a mum with a 7 month old little girl came and sat next to me, at which point T toppled over backwards, presumably in his attempts to stare! T enjoyed the singing and bouncing which the group entails, he’s getting more interested in his surroundings now, even though we sing the same 10 songs every week.

Library group over, it was back in the car and to the bank, to pay in DH’s wages. T had fallen asleep but I couldn’t really leave him in the car, so I had to drag the poor little thing out, but he helped by holding my purse in the bank. Back in the car and round the corner to the supermarket. He’d fallen asleep again, and really wasn’t happy about being woken up AGAIN, but a ride in the shopping trolley kept him happy. He goes in the proper big boy trolley seat now, and loves to hold on!

Shopping was uneventful until we reached the chilled aisle. I did a random phone check and it wasn’t in my pocket. Cue the hand-jive phone search dance. Nope, definitely not in any of my pockets, front or back, despite the fact that women’s jeans are not manufactured with front pockets big enough to fit anything larger than a £2 coin in them. I tried to reassure myself that I had left it in the car, as I’d been hopping in and out of it all morning. Just as I felt I had calmed down, I noticed my phone was in my other hand, where I was using it as a shopping list. I think I need a nap.

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