Today has been difficult on a few levels. After being up most of the night with Toby, Phil and I were both exhausted this morning but sadly he can’t do his job at home in his PJs so he left Toby and I in bed and left the house, locking the door behind him to keep us safe. What he didn’t realise was that our only remaining spare key was outside. Locked in the summerhouse. On the same keyring as the summerhouse key. Toby and I were locked in.

After having to turn the cleaner away because of said locked in-ness, I then set about planning how my good friend Charlotte could still come over without my mum having to do a 50 mile round journey to open our front door! During this time, Toby did a poo. Kids do that, not a problem. Except this was like the tsunami (*poonami*) of all nappies and was up his back until it then went back down his arms. This terrified him (he’s going through an emotional phase) and he burst into tears, leaping into my arms for comfort and thus covering me. I got us both into the shower, we cleaned up, all good.

Then there was the text about funeral arrangements, that set me off after I’d already been feeling delicate thinking about the grieving family during the morning. I cancelled my plans for the day of the funeral and held on to Toby tight.

Another lovely friend offered to take us to playgroup so we could have some company so Toby and I squeezed out of the living room window (just) and I promptly burst into tears again on my poor friend. Playgroup helped me to refocus myself but then when I got home mum had arrived and done some essential cleaning so that set me off again, feeling simultaneously a burden on people today and also blessed to have such kind friends and family.
My other good friend came over for the afternoon and Toby napped in my arms, lovely.

Then I went to prepare Toby’s tea and as I was in the kitchen he managed to close the latch on the living room door, meaning he was stuck in and I was stuck out. Hoping the hoop of the latch would pop out of the frame I wedged the door open but it was screwed in solidly and instead the only way I could get enough leverage to bust open the lock and save my screaming child who was beside himself, resulted in the door frame breaking. Seriously freaking brilliant.

There have been nice moments good friends and my mum showing kindness and compassion to a tired, hormonal and very emotional little old Hannah, Toby sleeping in my arms and a hot cuppa and a chat with my friend but as I wait for Phil to get home from work, I just want us to cosy up in front of some junk TV with junk food and let the rest of Tuesday kindly bugger off quietly in exchange for Wednesday. Because tomorrow is a different day, a day on which we get to see our tiny Baby Thimble again, a day when there won’t be any unopenable doors, when my mum is having us round for tea after our scan and when we can have some nice family time.
I won’t dwell on today, it’s not the worst day imaginable it was just a rotten one and I won’t be sad to see it finish!