Coming home..

The days in Dublin are fairly long (up at 5:30am, leave the house at 6:30am and get home at 8:30pm), so I miss JP and Lou Loo. But driving home in the evening from the train station, I can feel my insides unfurl and a sense of peace settling on me, just knowing that I'll be with them again. It's funny how I spend so much time imagining Mr G and I having time to ourselves, but being away from JP and Lou Loo still just feels wrong.

JP is usually awake when I get in, so I go and sit on the edge of his bed as he sleepily recounts the highlights of his day (the number of goals scored at break time usually holds the number one spot). He's a very tactile little person and likes to climb onto my lap for a 'snuggle', folding his long legs against his chest. He doesn't fit so easily there any more. Scary.

Lou Loo is usually asleep and I tip-toe into her room for a peek. She sleeps on her side most of the time, her arm draped over Rollo, the teddy we bought for her at Hamleys in London last Summer.

Tomorrow's my regular day off and she and I have a Friday morning ritual of tea and cake at the cafe, just the girls. Can't wait.

Ok, off to rustle up a Bacardi on ice to celebrate the end of the week!

Sigh. Ain't life grand...