...24 little hours...
Phew. This time yesterday I could hardly keep my eyes open. I was convinced that if anyone said anything even remotely mean to me, I would burst into tears. Hell, if anyone had even been nice to me I would have burst into tears.
3 weeks of having husband in and out of hospital. 3 weeks of solo parenting. 3 weeks of worrying. 3 weeks of trying to do it all, be it all. Have it all. I nearly broke.
But last night, the 11 month old only woke up twice. A quick feed and he was back in the land of slumber. I've given up listening to the Sensible Mum voice in my head that tells me to not pull him into bed with me and snuggle up. She can shut the fuck up. She doesn't have to go to work and write coherent words and sentences. I do. And so last night we snuggled up. And slept. Ahhhhhhhhh.
Last night my grocery order arrived. So this morning I had fresh, real coffee. Aaaahhhh.
Last night I was organised and made all the packed lunches, emptied the dishwasher and hung up the wet washing to dry. So this morning there was a clean kitchen and an organised fridge. Aaaaah.
Last night I made myself a big bowl of super veggie pasta with a ton of spinach (popeye power!) and I chilled out.
Tonight...well, we'll see what happens tonight. But at least I know come tomorrow morning, I'll still have fresh coffee to wake up to.