Dear CLF

Dear CLF

I’m guessing when you read this you’ll be quite a lot older and no doubt these ramblings will be served up in some as yet unimagined way. In any case there’s been a lot going on recently that I haven’t recorded.

Last Saturday (22nd January) you went to your first ballet class. It was surprisingly fun–I joined in and did the tippytoes thing and the armflappy thing and so on. At first you seemed a little uncertain, but by the end of the class, you were doing the butterfly with the other girls. As you may have noticed, your Mom and I are not pushy parents (before other readers get the wrong idea). The ballet thing happened quite unexpectedly. Someone left a leaflet in your box at nursery and we took up its offer of a free evaluation class.

Since then you’ve been pretty sick. lots of vomiting both night and day, but luckily you also slept under grown-up bedding for the first time this week (you wont remember this but I sorted out your “big girl bed” a couple of months ago) so once you had vommed on all the sleeping bags we still had backup. The washing machine has been running solid all week.

Anyway, I thought I’d put a specific diary entry in here–which I haven’t done in quite some time–as it feels like I haven’t seen you for three weeks:-(

You see, your Mom and Dad have to work to make some coldharddinari to buy food and toys and trips to the zoo. Sometimes in this process, your Dad has to travel a bit. Mom does too, you may remember the weeks spent with Granma Ruth in Devon or the trips up to stay with Eve, Thomas and Holly in Manchester. These generally coincided with your Mom heading off to Sri-Lanka or Hong-Kong.

Unfortunately for him, your Dad gets to travel to far less exotic places like Guildford or Salisbury. For the last three weeks (and for another nine) your Papa has to leave the house at Seven and doesn’t get back home until 19:30. Seeing as you are just opening your eyes at Seven, and are in bed with stories milk and Mummy at 19:30 this means that for these few months, our interaction is limited to week-ends and ten minutes of semi-consciousness during the week. Believe me, your Dad is not happy about this at all and is looking for a satisfactory work-around.

So today is Friday, and I’m already counting the minutes until I see you next. Have fun with Sophia today, and stop fighting over her toys (pretty please). Je t’aime immensément ma p’tite puce, à très bientôt:-)