Right. This has got to stop. Me and Dave are suffering some sort of self harming compulsion where, on a nightly basis we wedge sharp wooden sticks in our eyes, pace frantically up and down the living room and sporadically toss buckets of stone cold water over each other. We then down line after line of espresso in the hope of remaining awake, for no apparent reason, until 1am. We then hit the hay, slip into a exhaustion induced coma, and wake angry, unrefreshed and cantakerous to BB's somnolent wails. Then someone, namely Dave (he knows which side his bread's buttered), gets up with Boo at 6.30am. We then take turns to see-saw in and out of bed and come 12pm, find ourselves still lolling about in dressing gowns, unshowered and moaning about our untidy, stinking house and yet again, nowt's been done.
We're overeating and we're not exercising. We consume tea by the bucket, sweets by the kilo and pizza by the Italy. We stay in all day, hardly ever open our bedroom blinds and have adopted a bohemian approach to what is passable as 'tidy'. We have huge piles of washing scattered artistically/deathtrappily about the stairs and an assortment of science experiments 'cultivating' in our fridge.
Before, we had excuses. A newborn, breastfeeding, sleep deprivation... Now Betty regularly sleeps through from 7pm - 6.30am. In some ways this is incredibly irritating of her as, selfishly, it means she cannot be blamed.