I am writing this in my parent's study in my childhood home in Warrandyte. It is actually really good living here (I'm not sure why I am surprised). I get help with looking after Archie, Lee is closer to work, it is a bigger, warmer, cleaner house and mum and dad eat like freaking rabbits so Lee and I will probably lose like 15 kilos each.
We finally moved all our crap here. Except for Dave and Layla. They are being cheeky little mofos and refused to get in the cat cage, or even come within ten feet of me yesterday. So I have to go back today and lure them inside, then wrestle them into the cages. Awesome.
Mum has been looking after Archie a lot for the past few days while I was packing/unpacking/cleaning/herding pain in the ass cats and God I missed him. He has pretty much stopped breastfeeding during the day and only feeds before bed and occasionally during the night. I will write about all this one day soon. The whole ending-breastfeeding thing is so tricky and rife with mixed-up feelings.
Archie turns one on Friday. I have SO MANY FEELINGS about it all. We are having a little party on Saturday and I have begun preparing the cake extravaganza. Oh yes. Thursday is dedicated to cake-fest, Friday is his playgroup party with Cake #1 and then Friday afternoon is preparing for Cake #2.