Believe it or not the last two nights were rather trying.
First, I fell asleep while putting Plate to sleep and woke up only when FBB came to bed three hours later! So that was Monday night burned.
Tuesday night, we had a family "discussion" after Plate went to bed, i.e., the Outlaws talked and I listened/protested/got a bit tense1.
I really hate talking about money. Specifically, I hate having to articulate just how I got us into this mess. I hate talking about how I foolishly borrowed too much and all the stupid things I did to lead us to this point. The thing is - and this is key - I don't regret any of it. So we have to now dig ourselves out, but by god we had some good times in that hole, as well as some tragic ones, all of which have led to our precious Plate. If I had been sensible, cautious and thrifty, our lives would have been infinitely paler. And I doubt if we would have got our baby. I would also have had to deny someone whose life was already blighted by a terrible illness the little joys a little retail therapy afforded. I just couldn't do it. Yes, it was financial folly, but I find I don't care that much. I care that others do. And that stresses me out.
In other news, when we find our camera (it's in the living room somewhere) I will share with you the Great Box Tower in our hallway. It made me smile.
1. According to FBB, I got a bit shouty. I hadn't realised just how tense I was. And the fact that I am now sneaking in a blog when I should be working is another indicator of just how much the discussion bothers me. I wish we could sell and move without getting the Outlaws involved at all. Hate, hate! upsetting them.