Having Small Miss (5yo) wake up just before 6AM to wordflood her room (and the ears of Small Sir (6.5yo), so eventually the rest of our family) is a good deal less stressful than having someone basically unknown to me flooding the hospital wing with demands for the police, for the rescue of an impossibly young son (think ≈80 years younger), to “help me” and so on.
While it is still not the most restful experience, it does hint to me that the verge of useful family time is within reach, because my walking past the cartoon show which she elected to natter on about this morning has happened enough that I was able to make (more or less) sense of the natter.
Unfortunately for the cause of peace and quiet, Small Sir also cottoned on, and with some contextual excuse he then elected to rail at the implications in what was being said. As with practically every disturbance so far, this did eventually tail-off.
I get to see dear old Dad this morning, then trot back to hospital for a few days — so my own typefest should pause for breath (maybe slightly less interesting but less-unsettling blog and Planets for a few days). Enjoy the break! (-: