I’ve always loved the title Gone Girl , Gillian Flyn’s popular crime thriller of 2012. But this baby hasn’t gone in the same way, he hasn’t disappeared . Just gone home with his dad and his brother, I can get back into my baby gone life until next stay.

Right now off to have a coffee quietly and get my head into gear, away from babies and bottles and squishy food. Just look around at the evidence that


Bits of food all over the kitchen . On the window the washed bottles which contained the expressed milk he grudgingly swallows, while biting the teat. Still at least there’s that.

No the hand sanitiser just happens to be there

His toys are still around . As well as the paraphernalia of babies. Like some daggy version of ancient stones they nevertheless cast a spell over this room, waiting to be held, played with, placed onto a baby body part or tossed into the bin ( yes, disposable nappies, I have just discovered so called “Eco-disposable Nappies”. So maybe red bin to green bin ? )

Aah, he’s gone. The cat can settle back into a chair comfortably, not being chased away from a baby or annoyed by strange sounds.

Sleep well Jack , you might even move to the baby seat now

And I’d better go to the gym before I start clearing up. No more excuses. Baby is gone , and I sort of miss him.

Gone baby. So I’m off to the gym

PS This last image is to get your attention and a few “ likes” on my blog Sambasue21.Blog. I know my legs are bandy ,