When you become a parent of one, life gets real. When the second one arrives, you adapt or you’re screwed. One skill that I have found quite impressive is the ability to be absolutely livid, meanwhile being able to communicate your ire in utter silence. I’m not bragging here. All parents of two or more do this. For example:
Time for nap. My then one-year-old has just fallen asleep. This after a paltry three hours of rocking, singing, feeding, changing, her crying a lot, me crying a little, her fighting sleep, me fighting the urge to join the French Foreign Legion, the slow awkward ‘laying down’ procedure successfully completed. I am tip-toeing away from the room, barely able to release a breath, when I enter the lounge and my five-year-old quite loudly says “dad do you wanna play go fish?”.