Admitting defeat

Some days, this parenting lark, it's just about surviving. Not surviving anything remotely terrible or awful, just surviving the mostly wonderful but very occasionally long hard slog of looking after a baby (I'm refusing to use the word toddler until he toddles. Whether he's 18 months or three years when it happens). Why is it that some days I can leap around, dance, extract crayon fragments from mouth (of Teddy, not me), go 'Uh oh!' countless times, swing on the swings and face yet another food splattering with complete and utter joy, and some days I just want a rest? And some silence. Oh, sweet silence.

Today was one of those limp-through-till-5pm-when-Adam-walks-in-the-door-and-thrust-Teddy-at-him days. Fortunately Adam understands that these days exist, and uncomplainingly takes Teddy from dinner to bed with little or no help from me.

And for once, instead of continuing to push myself to do all the chores before tomorrow starts, I am, just for today, abandoning this

(Yes, that is our ironing mountain and yes, there really are only three of us here) in favour of this

Knitting and reading. Bliss. I may even go so far as catching up with Google Reader and designing the next quilt.

In view of the anticipated abandonment of all domesticity this evening, I also purchased two individual portions of banoffee cheesecake when I did the food shopping earlier. I'd love to say that I feel even slightly guilty about this.