It's officially become too much. Am looking forward to the densest week of the year - somehow, somewhere, amongst all the work commitments, I have to sort out an assessment for my daughter at a new school, a pension conversation with a SIPP advisor, a new nanny to replace pregnant-nanny-who-is-returning-to-Dorset-after-eight-months and a party for my four year old and his friend.
I groaned when one of my oldest friends invited me to a birthday party on Saturday night for her boyfriend who is turning 40. First thought, childcare. Second thought, am too tired. Third thought, do I go on my own for a bit whilst other half stays in as locum nanny? Fourth thought, when did I become so old?
Clearly a long time ago, all those years ago when I myself turned 40.
Cannot believe I have a close friend who has a toy boy.