Laundry

I had a bath, the children are in the bath, we've all had breakfast, I've done the day's money mangling, started sorting the huge piles of unsorted crud in the bedroom, and so far...

Loads of dirty laundry in the machine: 3
Loads of wet laundry hung on the line: 2
Loads of dry laundry sorted: 0

Next up: lunch and cleaning the bathroom.

Anne McCaffrey's Women

Summary reposted from elsewhere:

Look! I am a feisty and independent heroine with real dialogue and plot-centric actions! Whoops, there's a man, I'm a sharp-tongued but essentially brainless vagina on a stick.

Anorexia kills

From the BBC: This 58-year-old woman was the same weight as Linnea, who is 5 years old.

I am clearly unfit for my job

"Hang on, come back down the stairs, did you say paint?"
"No, Mum, it's not paint, it's INK."

---

Later, and less amusingly, I found that the medicines were not stored high enough (at the highest point in my bedroom I can reach without standing on a chair) and Linnea had carefully taken the "safe" dose of baby paracetamol/acetaminophen.

Two sachets, because that's the most that is safe.

Why yes, I cried. And we are investigating lockable medicine cabinets and trying to work out how to have the keys somewhere I can reach them and she can't. There are very few such places left.

I also explained - again, in a new way - that medicines are not "safe" but only a better option than being sick, and that "safe" doses when ill are a tiny bit poisonous when well.

I have no idea how to make this stick. And it's very important.

Thank heaven for pre-measured sachets.