A Spoon is a Spoon is a Spoon

Is a spoon. Of course, a hand is a hand is a hand, and a mouth is a mouth is a mouth.


Occasionally, however, a hand is a spoon is a mouth, and a mouth is a spoon, or a hand. The face also plays a role along those lines.


That's when we're somewhat relieved that daddy only visits on the weekend, for otherwise he would surely die of a heart attack or two, daily, when

Tara eats (with a spoon).

Although that is, once again, an issue under debate. Changes in mummy's work place mean that That Choice is to be made once again: Should I stay, or should I go. We're weighing up: A challenge at work for the next six months for semi-single mum Alex (and no paternal heart attacks) versus a 7-days-a-week-family (multiple heart attacks included, though it does have to be said that pasta peels off the floor beautifully once it has been given a change to dry over night, even if the same cannot be said for tomato sauce). Both options come with a lot of baggage attached: finance, mummy's fear of lots of spare time with a clingy toddler while not knowing the area nor anyone in it are just two of them.

A decision deadline has been issued (this coming Friday), and we all know (most of us) how bad I am with deadlines, and decisions.
Except Tara, who does not know yet, but looooves having funny daddy around, and would surely go for the 7-days-a-week if asked. Although of course nursery is a cool place to hang out too, they serve ever such nice food most of the time, even grapes are much tastier than at home, and CAN I HAVE MY BREAKFAST NOW PLEASE?!

Breakfast, Tara?, mummy says. Surely, but easy on your dinner now because tomorrow you will have to fit some serious cake in when we celebrate Dr. Daddy's official acquisition of his title, following his final oral exams at 1pm Greenwich central time. Maybe even a sip of champagne; the occasion would very nearly justify it!

P.S.: Now that Tara can go to sleep without a boob, I went out last Friday, HA HA HA! Cider was involved (HA HA to that too), and IT WAS TOTALLY COOL being out and shaky on heels, yeah! Went to a gig of this lot in a 'lil country pub and MISSED my baby half ways through. (cured that with more cider) and had to show her picture to everybody.