My one-year-old’s upstairs, in bed, sleeping off the morning. My back hurts from carrying her around and running after her. She’s been ill a lot the last month, and was teething, but things seem to be alright again today. I have an hour or so to myself to do the chores and write a little.
I often hear ‘nothing can prepare you for parenthood’. Maybe that’s true, but you know: I’m a writer, it’s my job to describe the indescribable.
So I say ‘challenge accepted’.