Despite the generally knackered theme of yesterday's grumpy post, the boy decided that quarter to six would be a respectable time to wake up crying this morning. Poor little man is really suffering with his teeth. We put him into bed with us for a while, but after he'd brought his legs crashing down onto my skull for the third time, I decided to put him back to bed. Legend that he is, this time we all woke up just before ten - a much more pleasing wake-up call.
The husband disappeared for a haircut in town, so Dexter and I ran some errands at the little parade of shops up the road.
In the afternoon, we met up with some fabulous friends whom we are going on holiday with in a month or so. We went to Middle Farm - a really lovely and well-managed place that has animals a-plenty to bother, and cider by the barrel-full to sup.
Dexter loved showing off his new walking/running/falling skills, giggling at chickens and playing with dirt. His little buddy, Lenny, enjoyed some llama spotting, climbing the rope frame and learning to say 'Dexter'. It was lovely and sunshiney, very relaxing, and just what this tired mummy's soul needed.
We hit Waitrose on the way back; I whizzed round with the trolley whilst the husband supervised a snoozing Dexter in the car. The evening has been spent updating my many late blog posts, drinking wine and generally feeling back on track. And there's still another whole glorious day left of the weekend tomorrow. Magic.