Jetlag

I cannot BELIEVE it is a week since my last post, that is just so so so naughty of me, and there’s no excuse, except of course the crippling jetlag after our weekend in Wales. Oh, oops, that’s right ….no jetlag. Not even a time difference. It just feels as though I’m permanently a few hours behind.

That’s because the girls and I have settled into a gorgeous routine. Child Two is up first, before even the doughtiest sparrow stirs on Herne Hill, and starts watching acres of TV in blissful solitude. She loves TV with a passion and is perfectly happy curled up on the sofa wrapped in a chenille throw watching shows that she is, oh, at least ten years too old for. Eventually, I stagger downstairs and make her watch Horrible Histories with me – well, it’s educational, isn’t it? Then, much, much, much later, Child One totters down, hair in genuine dragged-out-of-bed disorder, hardly speaking, but still making it plain somehow that she requires breakfast NOW. So we all eat and are usually just finished in time for the Sarah Jane Adventures at 11 (yes, I’m almost blushing at this, but am shameless enough to admit that it’s great. Sarah Jane is the only sidekick that Dr Who had when I was young who was pretty and possessed of a brain. Now in her, what, fifties, she is still lovely and still saving the planet from assorted scary monsters, with a trio of teenagers in tow. Best of all, she has a lovely Figaro car in pistachio green and I really want one).

After Sarah Jane has daringly defeated evil again, we are almost ready for lunch. This will be bagels, wraps or just bread from the breadmaker, with humous, salads, smoked salmon and other yums. Then I will try and persuade the girls to come to the park for tennis, or they will wander off to see friends, or read (still popular this holiday, I can’t believe my luck!) or, in the case of Child Two, attempt to sidle back to the TV, only to be thwarted by Mummy.

I’m sure we could pass many happy months like this. But sadly, it’s coming to an end – tomorrow. They’re off for two weeks with Mr X.

I’ve been trying to brace myself, and trying to book in a lot of treats, but I’ve been a bit hopeless and can feel the familiar lassitude creeping up. But no, this time, I’m going to be busy. I have to edit my book. Novel number two turned into a pile of poo while I wasn’t looking and I’m using this time to sort it all out. I really am. I won’t be watching daytime TV and getting sad. Definitely not!

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