Funny how a baby changes things.
We had a visitor the other day. (Actually, we've had visitors every-bloody-day this week. I'm buggered, and the floor is officially sick of being cleaned. Today? No visitors. Peanut was still in her PJs at 11am. But I digress...)
I was a bit nervous about her coming. Her husband used to work with Mr Accident, and I had heard some horror stories. She was, apparently, the ultimate career woman. She had a spreadsheet for everything, a set plan for life, and was as cold as sashimi salmon.
When Mr A last saw them they were newly married and trying for a baby. She was planning on returning to work directly from the labour ward, give or take a week. Mr A and his mates used to tease her husband relentlessly. It was clear who "wore the pants".
And now she was coming to our home. I was worried. I used to do her job. I used to have a spreadsheet for everything. I used to have a plan! But now my world has shrunken to not much more than a irretrievably finger-marked couch, and two little devils who won't eat their eggs. What would we discuss?
Turns out, she's had a baby.
Turns out, she didn't go straight back to work.
Turns out, she's trying for another, and never wants to go back again.
Well, close enough.
She agonizes over leaving her first born in care, while she works until number two, just like I did. She plan to breastfeed as long past first birthdays, same as me. She even has issues "civilianising" her hair, just like I do!
We had a lovely morning drinking tea and watching our children play.
I hope I see more of her.
I reckon she might like to borrow my apron pattern.