The key to success

If I were bigger and greener, I’d likely look a lot like the incredible hulk this morning. It’s one of those days where I feel I really shouldn’t have bothered getting out of bed. Except of course that wasn’t an option.

Following a night of unrest due to a snuffly and groany Bubby D, at 6am I gave in and asked the Other Half to take her for an hour so I could try and get even 30 minutes of sleep.

Following his half hearted attempt at calming her (consisting of lying her on his knees and staring at his iPhone, before stating ‘she won’t stop crying’ 5 minutes later) I decided lying there listening to said crying was worse than groggily dealing with it myself.

Finally got Bubby D pacified and dropping off, when the resident tornado (aka Wee Man) entered the room, flinging himself on the bed and squealing BUBBY D S’AWAKE!!

Thanks Wee Man. Yes she is.

‘Is that your grumpy face?’ asks the Other Half. Stupid question. If it wasn’t before, it is now.

Trampling over my broken toe, Wee Man and the Other Half head out of the door to nursery and work.

Cursing under my breath due to immense toe pain, I begin gathering my wits and set about dressing myself and Bubby D. After collating my bits for the breastfeeding tutorial today, somewhat miraculously we are packed and ready to go out of the door on time. But wait!

Where the car keys are meant to live, there is a suspiciously blank space. Equally blank is the space that the spare car keys inhabit. My mind flicks back to the Friday of my last breastfeeding tutorial, where I had to use the spare car keys because the Other Half took the main set to work. ‘Surely not…’ I think, a nagging suspicion taking root. Sadly, my suspicions are confirmed with a quick (and fairly snappy) phonecall. Not only did he not put the previous car keys back in place of the spare as requested, but he has now gone to work with the other set too.

‘Just get the bus’ is his (somewhat gleeful it seems) solution.

Oh, great idea. The car journey is 15 minutes. The wonderfully scenic (if you like looking at fried chicken shops and fly tipping) bus route takes 70. Not only that, but my fantastic lifesaver of a sling, generally necessary for keeping Bubby D happy during tutorials, is in the car. As is the pushchair.

Hence why I’m now sat fuming on the bus, keeping my fingers crossed I might get to at least half my tutorial, along with a – thankfully now sleeping- Bubby D.

Meanwhile, *Someones* dinner is in the dog tonight.

(that’s if we had a dog. And if I was going to bother making dinner for him in the first place).