A measly half an hour.

Well, I'm nearly two weeks now into dropping Grace's midday nap and... a measly half hour... that is all I have gained this evening. Grace fell asleep at 20.10. My body is screaming for chocolate, as I have completed yet another 13-hour shift with no breaks and I have become little more than an empty shell. Agggh! I have yet to see the results of this nap-dropping Misadventure and I repeat: it feels masochistic. It better be worth it, as I see some changes to Grace's body clock start to appear. But I ask you this, Reader, how can a child who is falling asleep at 1pm, and whose eyes have to be almost propped open with matchsticks, still be awake 7 hours later? Are they secretly trained in Chinese torture methods of denying their own parents sleep? And it gives them a thrill?

I have even limited my daytime activities - to largely the floor and the sofa - in order to prevent a sneaky cat nap from Grace or, worse, the fatal falling asleep in the car on the way home circa 4pm. So we haven't really been out today, not counting the walk around the corner to a clump of trees, where Grace was behaving in her manic-tired way and swirling round me and dropping to the grass repeatedly and hanging off my arm, as I had a one-and-a-half- stone baby in my carrier. (Surely I should be losing weight more quickly than I am, by the way?). 

In other news, Isaac said his first word (or at least that's what it sounded like) today. What a let down. 'Daddy', it was. I'm sure this happened with Gracie too. Truly, mothers are the 'unsung heroes of the world.' Sigh.

Grace's phrase for the day: 'The other day, when I was young...'

'Do you know what a celebration is Mummy? It's when you eat a pie.'

Grace to Michael: 'Daddy, what's that book called?'
M: 'Oi , Duck'
'No Daddy, that's 'Oi, duck-billed platypus.'  Oh dear.