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Saturday 3rd December 2022

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Out early on a cold morning to watch Phoebe play football. As the winter progresses this is going to become bodily torture, though the lesson I learned today was wear thermal socks. I didn’t wear thermal socks today, but that’s how we learn.
Annoyingly, having had to miss Park Run we arrived at the rec to discover that the opposing team had bailed on the fixture. But there were enough kids from our team there to play a game of 4 a side football. Usually it’s five a side with kids being subbed on and off, but today it was 90 minutes of uninterrupted football for everyone. I’d brought Wolfie with me. She’s been before and usually sits quietly, unless another dog passes, but today she was going crazy, barking and whining and straining at the lead. I’d tell her to sit and she’d whimper and do so for a minute or two before getting agitated again. I think that maybe she was worried Phoebe was in trouble and wanted to protect her, but I don’t know. 
My feet were getting colder and I was willing the time to pass, as much as I enjoyed watching Phoebe getting stuck in. Just when I thought it was over, the dads decided they would take on the kids. I was wearing wellies and holding a dog lead so luckily I didn’t have to join in.
Then we dashed home (and I put on some thermal socks) and then drove to the kids’ school for a winter trail, culminating with finding Santa and getting a selection box (kids only sadly).  Ernie, who is still not quite better, had an impressive nose bleed.
He’s coping pretty well with his ailments, but it might have been a bit too early to get him out of the house. What a responsibility it is keeping these little dicks alive. But you really want to as you can’t imagine life without them, even if you constantly fantasise about the life you had before they showed up. The human body is so insane. So vulnerable and yet usually so strong. The heart keeps beating and the lungs keep breathing, usually for 70 or more years. Yet it’s all just made out of meat. Fucking insane.
I was feeling giddy from being inside and outside and inside and outside and it had been a non-stop morning. We had planned to get our Christmas tree this afternoon, but we got fish and chips from a van and then ate them in the car, came home and then basically conked out. It’s been a hell of a week and I haven’t quite recovered from all the work, let alone the caring for a small poorly boy and for the first time in a while I had to go to bed in the late afternoon to try and catch up. I think I might be a little bit poorly myself, but I know full well that the only way to get proper recuperation time as a parent is to have a testicle removed. I am considering it.
They’re leaving home soon, right?
Oh God, I can't cope with the idea of not having them here. Why have you cursed me so, God? Why?


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