2020-08-04 | 7:54 a.m.

Still nothing of interest really to report here. I had an RSI flare up in my wrist last week, which was pure agony and I think caused by 1. work - ignorant judges and barristers thinking it's fine to chat away til the sun's waving its balmy goodbye, just cos we're in the comfort (or not, still haven't upgraded from a dining room chair) of our own homes and not facing an hour plus journey out of London anymore. 2. The bear, heavier and wrigglier and nappy-changing-hating than ever. 3. Bike rides, especially a fantastic countryside one at my mum's the weekend before the one just gone.

Anyway, after four short weeks back at the grindstone it's now the court summer recess so it's going to be quiet for the next couple of months. I'm beginning to feel stifled and drained from doing the vast majority of childcare if honest. I know it's trivial to moan about this in these pandemic times. My boy is beautiful but being screamed and wailed at for 10 mins (just one incident of many per day) because I won't let him play with my lip balm is just. not. fun.

He is getting amazingly chatty though, and watching (or hearing, rather) his development is absolutely fascinating. He can speak in sentences now:

"Otter [soft toy], where is it?

"Bobble [on my jumper], I found it.

"Marmite [a controversially delicious yeast extract spread], I want it."

And he can count (badly). I have five ears and when I ask him what colour anything is the reply's always green.

I'm making him say "please" now for things as he's such a little dictator. Maybe he's as fed up as I am as when I made him say please for the hundredth time yesterday when he asked for a book I could actually hear the exasperation, "puhlEEEase" in his voice, and I couldn't see his eyes but I bet he was doing an eyeroll.

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