Irritatingly I hadn't factored Leo being so in tune with my emotions (of course he wont let me wallow in my own cupboard of sadness outside of his bedtime) so when we play with his wooden trains or race around outside I occasionally lie down and pretend he's run me over with the plastic motor bike or mini locomotive. This tiny breather of self pity is all I need until much later in the night when I can cry alone. I realise holding it all together instead of letting everything go is twisting my conscience about grieving, but I'm there with misty exhausted eyes for the good, the bad and the ugly. Is it helping? Nope, but the weeks holiday I've booked for us on the Kenyan coast most definitely will.
Ahhhhhhh sea air and ocean wash me clean and vodka dawas cleanse me internally!
Chris got back on Monday evening. He had driven a horsebox up from Nairobi with a metal giraffe inside for the Lodge - yep my life is like some weird movie. So I've added a few photos to prove (hi mum) that I haven't crashed and burned (yet) and we're slowly and carefully making it through the wobbles.