Saturday, June 29, 2013

Sleeping in, touch and missing.

1. We sleep in until 11am.

2. Bettany's hair feels like velvet and her cheeks feel like rose petals.

3. I take up my phone and start to dial my parents' number. The landline goes. It's my mother. Alec comes on the line to say that 'poor little tears were rolling down my cheeks' (this is his standard phrase when he feels he deserves sympathy). The mother says he missed Bettany in the night.

4. I am feeding Bettany on the sofa when they bring Alec home. He curls round, latches on, and without any fuss I am nursing both my children. It is strange to look at the different sizes of their heads, and Alec's great rough thatch of hair beside Bettany's thin covering.

Coffee, right there and advent calendar.

1. The coffee this morning is very tasty. There is no particular reason that we can discern. Perhaps we were just ready for it, and our bisc...