Friday 8th March 2019
The boys this afternoon are shooting hoops in the back yard; I’m boobing one of the twins in the milking bedroom, the other is being cradled by JiaJia. Its sunny though there has been a *most welcome turn of seasons. Kingsley has eaten eggs and drank milk. He’s practiced reading (self-selected third reader emtitled ‘At The Park’) and practiced his maths (doubles). The library book he borrowed ‘The Rainbow Bear’ we read while Erroll attempts to clear our car of yesterday’s vomit stench with a product the mummy’s group I’m on recommended called Britax.
Its the beach my boys want; Kingsley just came into the milking chamber to ask me permission to go. Yes, of course! What? Yes? You said yes, mummy? DAD!MUMMY SAID YES TO GO TO THE BEACH! And with that plus a towel and two bottles of water they’re off for their thousandth swim at Coogee since making this suburb our home. I stay home boobing the twins on an alternate basis.