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Monday, 20 January 2014

...and the beginning of another.

So as I'm not a man to do things by halves, I decided that the only way to return from 6 months off was to start with 7 night shifts. Starting on a Friday night! 

To be honest, the fact that they were nights wasn't an issue. It meant that I was double-crewed and Emma's mum came down for the week to help out so I could sleep during the day.

I tried to spend as much of the day with Emilia as I could but by the time I'd fought my way through traffic to get home, then walked the dog, and had breakfast it was almost midday and I had been up for 18 hours. I was flagging! 
I did get up in time for bath and bedtime. So I would spend about an hour a day with her. 

She's a fickle little thing... On Saturday morning, I got home to a baby who crawled over to the front door, sat up on her knees, raised her arms for a cuddle and give me a big grin. By Wednesday, she would let me pick her up but she didn't come over when I came in.
By Friday morning, she didn't even raise her arms for a cuddle. She had no interest in me what-so-ever. Far more interested in "Nana". 

What a short memory they have at this age though. It would break my heart if I wasn't able to see her any length of time. I'd really worry that she would forget who I was!

It's now the following Monday and we've just been swimming. I've had lots of cuddles, lots of talking and lots of climbing on. It looks like I've been remembered and forgiven!

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