I woke up grumpy too.

I was a little disingenuous about my reasons for the grumpiness. I left out one. Not because I wished to deceive you all (hah), but, well, because I wished to deceive you all.

I was rostered to look after my mother today. Not for long, just noon 'till six or seven, but I don't like doing it. And then I feel guilty. And then I beat myself up for making a big deal out of it. And around it goes. It leaves me a bit emotionally raw.

The odd thing is that I can cope fine when I'm actually doing it. It's the anticipation that seems to make it worse.

Anyway. I went, we did stuff, she seemed in good form, I came home.

Paddy then threw up in the car. The poor mite has a cold (I can hear his cough in the monitor now) whish makes him all mucusy and he gags, coughs and pukes. It's the best in the car, especially when you can't pull over because of the road works. The car will reek tomorrow.

He's in good form, despite this. He doesn't mind emptying his stomach like that and when we visited the other grandparents afterwards he flew around and had a great time. His sleep will suffer tonight though, and in consequence so will mine.

Not going to bed until 2am will prevent him getting me up I suppose but it doesn't contribute to the total amount of sleep available.

Tomorrow Anna has requested that I start reading to her. She's finished her book (the third Harry Potter, second time around) and wants to start Northern Lights which has had many positive things said to her about it. She wants me to read it to her at bedtime and I will. I used to read to her a lot and I like the idea of doing it again.

Paddy likes to be read to and he has unlimited capacity for a few books. That is, he'll make you read the same one to him three or four times in a row. Fox in socks is the latest one and I still can't say Ben's band bangs and Bim's band booms. Oh there -- I just did.

Fox in socks, our game is done sir, thank you for a lot of fun sir.