not the winning formula
Thursday, October 11, 2007
She still won't sleep through, even after we gave up the good fight and plonked a bottle of formula into her at bedtime. I mean, what is the bloody point of making a pact with the devil if he won't keep up his end of the bargain? Feh.
Oh, I could try to summarise the endless recursive loops of rationalisation and agonisation (is that a word? it is now) that went into this decision but Becca is home from crèche pouring snot and coughing like a drain so I don't have time.
(We're back, by the way. More on the Auckland trip when I'm not nursing the sick.)
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