More Stuff…

“So what are you up to this weekend?”

“Oh, you know, a trip to the motor museum.”

“Oh, sounds great, B will love that.”

“Yeah, he will. We’re also going to meet his baby sister there.”

“Oh wow.”

“Yeah.”

“We’re also probably (subject to luck and some forms) going to be adopting her too.”

“OMG (or my 40 odd year old colleague’s equivalent). That’s amazing. Are you excited?”

“Err… no, not really. (Today is Thursday) I haven’t really had time to think about it yet. I’m sure I will be by Saturday though.” [slurp of coffee] [scratch of ear][return to spreadsheet].

spreadsheet

Now don’t get the wrong, the prospect of B’s sister joining our family is a momentous change for our family and when I have time to think about things I am massively excited. However, on a day to day basis I simply don’t have the mental capacity to think about it.

Currently, my brain feels like that glass of wine at a dinner party (yeah, I said it, we all do it, don’t judge me) that gets topped up too frequently by the slightly too generous host concerned that he needs to keep the mood peppy before Neil on the end starts droning on again about his and Cynthia’s off season mid week break in Andalucía. We’ve all tried tapas and been on a bus Neil!! I feel like I just about have time to take a slurp to clear a bit of space at the top and then BOOM, I’m flooded with the next load of slightly warm Aldi Pinot Grigio (yeah, I said it, we all drink it, don’t judge me).

I feel like I’m getting more and more sozzled as the days go by.

I think me and Mrs DB are coping fairly well with all this but it is fair to say that at the moment we’re simply focussing on keeping our heads above water. We’re trying to tame a three year old hurricane; hold down a job; operate a now constantly running washing machine; and now spend our evenings again filling in countless forms about our parental abilities, whilst being assessed by social workers.

PLEASE GOD DON’T LET THEM READ THIS BLOG…

…we’ve ticked the box saying all our wine comes from M&S.

To say that the romance has been taken out of the conception of our new arrival is an understatement; Mrs DB doesn’t even need to lie about the headache.

So then, it’s currently a toss up between a car once driven by the ex-wife of a James Bond villain’s evil henchman or my new daughter… Watch this space…

However, I’ve got a feeling that by Saturday I’ll be (goo goo) gaa gaa.

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