Wake up with smallest child in bed with us. Not sure how or when that happened, but have vague recollection of needing to do some feed at some ungodly hour.
But nothing more than a vague recollection.
Set about doing 496 loads of washing (apparently, our ‘helpers’ during my time in hospital had restrictions on how much ‘help’ they were to provide. But that’s ok, at least the kids didn’t have to fend entirely for themselves) whilst sleep deprived and in between the feeding “routine” that was allegedly established in hospital.
Fell asleep on couch, again, only to be woken by more vistoris wanting to see the baby.
If only I wasn’t so sleep deprived and had my wits about me, I’d have thunk enough to charge an admission fee for the apparent exhibition currently showing in our front room.