storbarnsförälder

We have an invitation to go play at someone else's house today, and I want to go, and Linnea wants to go, but Emer is asleep and Linnea won't get dressed. We're pretty much too late to go now - yes, I have called to say so - and in about twenty minutes Linnea will come downstairs, still without her shoes and socks on, and want to know why it's too late to go, and she'll cry and wake Emer up, and bah.

If Linnea was being cooperative rather than wanting to have her cake and eat it too, I could put a sleeping Emer on my back and walk us all round the corner. But she's not.

And it will, later, be All My Fault.

Again.

... that's my job.

I'm ill. Hopefully it will, haha, pass soon.

Every bout of stomach trouble makes me hate that damned obstetrician more.