Bedtime Reading

An actual book. 

So far I rate Dear Fatty, Dawn French's autobiography, as being the better read. Still enjoyable.

Wet and windy today. Awoke to a street full of overturned wheely bins. I thought the Bug's soiled nappies had escaped, and it was a sign confirming I deserve the huge guilt I feel over never properly embracing cloth nappies. Embracing biodegradable wipes and nappy sacks is just not the same thing, and I feel bad. My reason for using disposables? It's just easier. A very poor excuse indeed.

Anyway, I was relieved to discover it was just tissues from another bin when I went out. I picked up them up anyway. 

We spent the morning and lunchtime with the Bug's Grandma, and afternoon with A and E from my NHS antenatal group. The Bug's walking is continuing to progress at an alarming rate, and I'm working on accepting he is no longer a baby, but a rather feisty toddler.