Even after seven years as a parent, I'm still stunned by how much time is not my own. The baby has been ill this week - a combination of cold, teething and eczema. She has been going to sleep at about 11pm, after long days of grizzling. Then, suddenly mindful that I am trying to read several books at the moment, I select one from the pile and fall asleep in it. A few weeks ago I had even started writing again - that all seems a distant memory as now all I have time for is a bit of posting on Poets on Fire and digesting the odd poem while cooking the dinner.
Having said this, my mind is busy making maps ..... more of this later. Child number two needs to be read to most urgently.
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