Thursday 21st February 2019
As soon as Kingsley and Erroll come through the door from Jiu-jitsu the pace is hectic and its all hands on deck. Both babies are crying. Is it hunger? A stinky bum? Need cuddles or to hear our voice? I’m madly expressing milk on the bed when Kingsley enters to tell me he is ‘πλούσιο’ (rich), showing me a handful of coins and a five dollar note. Daddy gave it to me, he admits. Then leaves the stash on my side of the bed along with his previously procured coinage.
Tonight we celebrate Aleka’s quarter century. Kingsley insists on baking a cake, so we do: a fluffy orange rectangle. While the babies are held in arms in Jiajia’s room, I’m all Kingsley’s. We make dinner together (eggs; what else), do homework at the dining table (his second reader ‘I Go, Go, Go’; practice writing our ‘a’s’) then bake.
And then we host Aleka’s birthday party…