7.00 Alarm clock goes off
7.10 Husband gets into shower
7.30 Husband has breakfast
7.50 Husband asks whether I had better get up
7.55 Drag myself from bed and stand in shower while husband feeds and dresses toddler
8.24 Leave house in car.
8.45 Reach end of road.
9.00 Deposit precious infant in creche. Infant is, frankly, reluctant.
9.30 Arrive in office. Work a bit. Mostly drink tea. Quiet and kind of pleasant.
5.00 Leave office – look it was my first day and it was quiet and dammit, I’m the boss,I can leave when I like – and drive to creche (husband has, alas, gone on a work trip)
5.30 Arrive at creche. Pick up unhappy infant. It appears that she has not wished to eat the fruit which was offered for her afternoon snack and she is distinctly peckish. Creche staff assure me that she has been happy as a sandboy (or girl, I suppose) all afternoon and danced away to music with them. Be that as it may, she is not happy now.
5.35 Depart creche with unhappy baby and discover to my horror that the stash of crackers I keep in the car for just such emergencies as this is sadly depleted. Hand over last cracker.
5.55 Reach the end of the road on which the creche is situated.
6.10 Reach home.
Conversation on the journey has gone as follows:
Princess: Bikkit, bikkit, bikkit!
Me: I’m afraid that you’ve had the last one, sweetheart.
Princees: Bokkle, bokkle, bokkle!
Me: I haven’t got a bottle with me, my angel.
Princess: Giga, giga, GIGA!
Me: Um, I haven’t any Liga either, I’m afraid.
Repeat to fade.
6.11 Give the Princess a Liga.
6.12 Stick dinner in the oven.
6.13 Change infant.
6.20 Lay table, peer at dinner to see whether reheated yet, placate baby with crackers.
6.40 Eat dinner. Persuade infant to try some reheated lasagne
7.00 Clear table and wipe remains of lasagne from wooden floor. Regret that landlord chose not to revarnish the floor before we moved in.
7.15 Look at photo album with infant (she likes that, she gets to see her grandparents).
7.25 Bath.
7.45 Bed.
I’m a shadow of my former self, I can tell you.
on 29 November 2004 at 22:20
What’s a Liga?
It doesn’t get any better as they get older. Feeds and dresses toddler is replaced with nag child to get showered and dressed, ensure child has all needed for school before stepping out the door. In the evening creche is replaced with afterschool club, you need to add placate child to get homework done, rush to swimming/ trampoline/ choir etc. Nag child to get teeth brushed and jammas on etc. You get the jist. 
on 30 November 2004 at 00:23
Re: reaching end of road. Wonderful use of figurative language.
Despair not. It will get better… unless it doesn’t.
on 30 November 2004 at 01:49
Enormous round of applause. Squeezing the day dry (I wish I was as productive)…..
on 30 November 2004 at 12:40
Well it sounds like your day only got busy around half 5, which isn’t too bad. Bit confused about the ‘I’m the boss’ bit – is that just what you’re telling yourself? Or have I somehow missed you starting up a company….how exciting.ps – by God, I used to love Liga.
on 30 November 2004 at 13:50
Well done waffle in law. Hope it gets easier …
on 01 December 2004 at 22:01
Bobble, Heather, Demlov, Mike you are very kind. And HJB, a sweetie too, I’m overwhelmed. Stroppy cow, you’re scaring me – and what do you mean what’s a Liga? It’s a biscuit, a staple of childhood for generations (well I had them when I was little anyway and so did Locotes, I see). FT, hah. You know you’re relying on me to rescue you from your LJS mess. No Loc, I haven’t started my own company, it’s just that I run the local office and my bosses are far, far away.
Pub exec, yeah, getting better now that your brother is back from his travels.