When the rubbish truck goes past, its loud stop, start, stop, start, makes me think of the days – increasingly distant as they are – when youngest boy had not yet started school, and he ran to the door, or the window if the door was closed, and watched the rubbish truck moving down the road, and I wish I had more often stood in the hall and stared at the curls on the back of my growing boy’s head.
Stop it, you’re making me twitchy about next year.
hardest year of my life, stomper, and that’s one of the reasons (mind you and on the other hand, there’s good things to be said for the freedoms)
Oh so true.
Sounds like you got the dog just in time.
Sounds like you got the dog just in time.
For absolute sure.
by the sounds of it, you need a good dose of school holidays.
Not long to go until then either (holidays, that is).
I keep looking at my 4 month old baby and thinking “huh?”
I sneaked some of my boy’s hair off the hairdresser floor the other day because she’d turned him into someone that I didn’t know for a moment. It’s in a little bag in my backpack. This morning I took it out and held it for a while.