Read Where Rainbows End for Free Online Page A

years in a general surgical residency so I’m estimating that I’ll be fully qualified in my special-ized field (whatever that will be) by the time I’m one hundred years old.
    So that’s all I do here. I wake up at five a.m. and study. Go to college, come home and study. Every day. Not much more to report really. It’s really tough. But then I don’t need to tell you that. I bet it’s a hell of a lot easier than what you’re doing right now. Anyway, I’m going to sleep now, I’m shattered. Sweet dreams to you and baby Katie.
    Note to self:
    Do not bounce Katie on knee after feeding.
    Do not breast feed beside football pitch.
    Do not inhale when changing nappy. In fact allow Mum and Dad or even random strangers to change nappy as often as possible if they so wish.
    Do not push buggy by old school for Ms. Big Nose Smelly Breath Casey to see.
    Do not laugh when Katie falls on her bum after attempting to walk.
    Do not try to have conversation with old friends from school with whole lives ahead of them, as this will result in huge frustration.
    Stop crying when Katie cries.
    Bonjour Stephanie!
    How’s my beautiful sister doing? Sitting in a café drinking a café au lait wearing a beret and a stripy top while stinking of garlic, no doubt! Oh, who says stereotypes are dead and gone!
    Thanks for the present you sent Katie. Your goddaughter says she misses you very much, and she sends lots of drool and sloppy kisses your way. I think I could make those words out of the screaming and wailing bellowing out of her tiny little mouth. Honestly I don’t know where all the noise comes from. She is the tiniest and most fragile little thing I have ever seen, sometimes I’m afraid to hold her but then she opens her mouth and all hell breaks loose. The doctor says she’s colicky. All I know is that so she doesn’t stop screaming.
    It’s amazing how something so small can be so smelly and so noisy.

    48
    Cecelia Ahern
    I think she should go into the Guinness book of records for being the smelli-est noisiest smallest thing ever. What a proud mother I would be.
    I’m so knackered, Stephanie. I feel like a complete zombie. I can barely read the words I’m writing (apologies for mashed banana on bottom of page). Katie just cries and cries and cries through the night. I have a constant headache. All I do is wander around the house like a robot picking up teddy bears and toys that I trip over. It’s hard to bring Katie anywhere because she just screams wherever we are; I’m afraid people think I’m kidnapping her or being a terrible mother. I look like a balloon. All I wear are the most unflattering tracksuits. My bum is huge. My stomach is covered in stretch marks, I’ve flab that won’t seem to go away no matter how much I shout at it and I’ve thrown all my belly tops out. My hair is dry and feels like straw. My tits are HUGE. I don’t look like me. I don’t feel like me. I feel like I’m about 20
    years older. I haven’t been out since the christening. I can’t remember the last time I had a drink. I can’t remember the last time a member of the opposite sex even looked my way. (Except the people who glare at me angrily in cafés when Katie starts to scream.) I can’t remember the last time I even cared about a member of the opposite sex not staring at me. I think I am the world’s worst mother. I think that when Katie looks at me she knows that I haven’t a clue what I’m doing.
    She’s almost walking now, which means I’m running around saying
    “NO! KATIE NO! Katie do not touch that! NO! Katie, Mummy says NO!” I don’t think Katie cares about what Mummy thinks. I think Katie is a girl who sees something she wants and she goes for it. I dread the teenage years!
    I can’t believe she’s one already. Time moves so fast! She’ll be grown up and moving out before I know it. Maybe then I’ll have some silence. But then again that’s what Mum and Dad thought. Poor Mum and Dad. Steph, I feel so bad. They