T.G.I.T.

I bloody love Tuesdays.

I'm a bit ashamed of how much I love Tuesdays, actually. Ashamed, because Tuesday is nursery day, and that means a Toddler-free day, and surely it's bad to look forward to those so much? I'm not at work at the moment, so surely I should be saving myself a whole heap of money and enjoying this quality time with my daughter, instead of continuing to ship her off to be looked after by strangers (well, not total strangers by now, but you know what I mean) once a week? Not a chance. I adore my little girl, but she ain't half hard work. I'm not sure I could take 7 days a week with her. I mean, I know countless people do spend all day every day with their children, and not all of those people have gone mad, and I know that if I didn't have any other option, then I'd just be having to get on with it. I know I am very very lucky to be able to just about afford to keep sending her. But if it came down to a choice between being able to eat, and being able to pay the nursery fees, I swear it would be a difficult decision, and you'd probably find me looking up recipes for family meals you can make from Smart Price noodles, tap water and grass.

And here is why: Today, Husband was off work, so he got up and took her to nursery (which we usually do the second they open. I am determined to get my money's worth out of that place), and I got to stay in bed with The New'un, having cuddles and feeds (her, not me. I was starving, but not even hunger could drive me out of bed). When I did eventually get up, I got to eat my WHOLE bowl of Special K. The house got tidied. We watched Masterchef without a small voice going "No. Don't cooking. Want Beebies". We had lunch when we felt like it, not bang on 12 noon, which is the time The Toddler usually starts bleating for cheese (well, she actually asks for a cheese sandwich, but as she always refuses to eat the bread, she's basically just asking for cheese). We went out, without any arguments about shoes or coats. We accomplished a small errand I've been putting off for days, because the thought of putting two children in the car, getting them out again, going into the shop, persuading The Toddler out of the shop and back into the car all to purchase one pack of fabric dye made me want to weep. I only had to change the nappy of a person who had no choice but to lie there until I'd finished. And of course, got to spend lots of time making silly faces and noises at The New'un, who gets cuter every day.

It's all very lovely. At the end of the day, though (and I do actually mean "at the end of the day", it's not just an annoying verbal tic I have), I do enjoy going to fetch The Toddler from nursery. Even when I get there to find her standing in the middle of the room with her shoe in her mouth, like today (I have no idea). Especially when I find out that the poo she's been trying to do for two days has been done and dealt with. She waves goodbye to all her little friends and the staff, holds my hand while we walk to the car, and asks where Daddy is, and agrees we should go home and see him. Then she prattles on all the way home, telling me about her day. At least, I think she's telling me about her day. I'm not entirely sure that she ate an animal and played with Joe (she has a friend called Joe, but he goes to a different nursery, and I'm fairly certain there are no Joes at hers). And of course, when we get home, we make up for lost time and have a lovely family chat. She doesn't demand CBeebies the minute she gets through the door, and we don't turn it on for her. Oh no. Not at all.