St. Albans

Sunday 13th June.

7.00am. Woken up by a sharp tug to my hair. Baby Sister is in the bed. Co-sleeping is not the beautiful intimate experience I’d remembered or imagined. She woke me three times in the night. I turn over, she smiles excitedly and drags sharp fingernails down my nose and cheeks.

Ow! I say. She swings a baby left hook and punches me in the eye. Dear of her, (As we say in Devon) she’s just excited to see me, she squeals happily and wiggles her legs. I swear grumpily. She’s just being affectionate. I dreamed that The Doctor and I lived on separate boats, next door to each other; together but separate. I also dreamed that my double pushchair was empty but out of control racing down a hill. I rushed after it and just in time saved it from being hit by a car.

I had a lovely time at Chloe’s; lunch at The Breakfast Club, the baby is happy in her highchair, giggling at other children across the cafe. We walked through charming English market shopping streets, olde worlde pubs and cobbles and alleyways. Baby sister was asleep when we visited the cathedral. We stood quietly at the back and watched choir practice, a whole choir on stage chorusing up to a crescendo and cymbals! Crash! Baby awakes! What a way to be woken up, poor thing. (Perhaps the early morning violence was her revenge?)

Then, a sunny walk in the park breastfeeding on a park bench discussing Chloe’s wedding, old friends, future plans and ideas of names for Chloe’s (soon to conceived!) children. My youngest child lies on a blanket on the grass, kicking, smiling, shaking her rattle. An elderly couple stop to smile and stare and talk about her babyish loveliness; what a happy baby.

I feel relaxed, it’s so good to get away and break the monotony. I conclude we should probably all go away more often – all four of us. I need to have fun with my family, so that they’re not always my ‘job’! The Doctor and I need to enjoy each other too.