I have a minute between admiring Posy's imaginary kittens (there are nine of them - they all have names, and new beautiful dresses every day. With matching shoes) and starting dinner, to report on progress. 6am? Quite dark, actually. To be scrupulously honest I haven't actually been up at the dot of six yet. Ten past, yes, half past, yes, a quarter to seven, yes, and one disastrous day, half past seven. Musn't repeat that one. The most important thing is that I have been up and dressed and breakfasted before the family gets up every day for the past month. It makes such a difference to my day. Sometimes I just sit and gaze vaguely at the sunrise, sometimes I get loads of washing on and open my mail. Sometimes I even put lipstick on, just to present an impression of early morning perkiness (the first time I did that Rosy looked at me suspiciously and said, "Where are you going?"). Some days I even do feel slightly perky, especially if I manage my first cup of tea before Posy starts bellowing. Plus, it's the only time of day that I can be all alone, in the quiet of a sleeping house. Priceless.
I can confidently say that I have successfully nagged and brow beaten my family into clearing up after meals, with a little finishing off and shining up by yours truly. I am a little worried that a shining sink makes me so happy. My next project is to open my mail every day. I hate opening mail (except for nice mail, of course, like presents, and actual hand written letters), and so I cleverly avoid it by throwing it in a drawer. Of course, this does tend to have some administrative drawbacks, so from now on I am going to be positively courageous, and open my mail every morning before there are any four year olds around to 'help'. And then I am going to pay the bills, and file stuff, and write 'notes to self' in my diary. It will be the all new administrative me. All before seven in the morning...
1 day ago