Arlo has been attending music classes for about six weeks now, and he really enjoys it. There are eight kids in the class and all attend with their mothers.
I thought one mother looked familiar, she’s got a British accent so I though maybe I’d seen a similar face on tv sometime. But suddenyl it twigged today, and I asked her son’s birthdate.
I was righ – her son is three days younger than mine, and she is indeed one of the women who shared my room in the postnatal ward! I was in there for 7 days so a few women passed through in that time, but I remember her well because she was sane, unlike most of the others. So we had a discussion about the loonies we’d shared with (including one woman across from me who’d had her third child, was immediately bored, and always had the social worker visiting and trying to convince her to go on the pill. Her partner was in gaol because not liong before the birth, they’d done a runner from a service station – with the two kids in the back and heavily pregnant woman in the front – and he’d crashed the car. Arrested, gaoled, what a mess. Much drama. Also, she always watched the tv in the middle of the night, not on mute.)
So, coinkydink!
Arlo’s first day of childcare tomorrow! He is excited, I don’t think he has relaised yet that it means I will be gone all day. He’ll have Baby Doll to snuggle up to though, and I’ll only just be around the corner working.
