The Coal Face

Boys

Ah yes, the coal face. The child-rearing coal face. I’ve basically been shouting into a wind-tunnel for the past four and a half years. And the years have not been kind. This is not the sort of wind tunnel where you get a free Joan Rivers face-lift at the end of it. Either end of the day – the 6am and the 7pm – are fine. All present and correct, and more importantly everyone still alive with two functioning eyes. This vision of domestic bliss hides a terrible truth though. The two ends of the day may look the same but you’d be a FOOL for thinking it doesn’t take at least 4000 calories to keep it that way. This truth is so bad it should only be looked at through special radiation proof specs, preferably rose tinted…and preferably the poor unfortunate should also be wearing those special sound-proof headphones road diggers wear. For those hours are spent running on a crazy treadmill of wasted hours. I talk not of the precious seconds. The laughing, the playing quietly, the miraculous milestones. I’m talking about the long hours of watching someone on a potty, the standing in the frozen tundra of a park, the play supervision to stop someone losing an eye. Ha! But I’ve discovered a secret! I can multi-task! These are no longer lost hours! I can knit! These aren’t wasted hours when there’s a KNITTED CUPCAKE at the end of it!

KnitWit

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