My baby girl turned six last weekend...*wry smile*....and I turned thirty the weekend before...*smile slips slightly*...time is galloping on at such a scary scary rate.

M's sister had a baby girl today...nine pound three ounces (ouch!)

There is a bit of a sorry story behind the closed doors on that particular household and as it goes, a few too many people have been drawn into it. Suffice to say, I have steered well clear of it, only expressed my opinion privately to M and there it remained.

M's sister, known as S has two children already, one at school, the other still a baby, barely one year old. Her husband is an alcoholic (a true alcoholic with an alcoholic father). She has left him/kicked him out on so very many occasions only to get back together with him.

He has no interest in another child, he was apparently furious when she told him she was pregnant again and has continued to drink throughout her pregnancy despite telling her he had stopped.

All that changed was he got better at lying and hiding his drinking. Now he has gotten to the stage where he simply doesn't care...he hasn't been home since Mothers Day, two weeks ago and when the youngest child was rushed to hospital on Saturday night with suspected croup...no-one could find him.

He still hasn't resurfaced...it was her Mum that held her hand as she gave birth this afternoon and welcomed her third child into the world.

I find that, quite simply, so sad...at a time where her and her husband should be celebrating the birth of their baby together, he will be in a drunken stupor somewhere.

The irony is, S was induced and she had her induction date booked in two weeks ago so he has no excuse for not showing.

I can't help but wonder if this is actually the end for them this time...could there possibly be any more reserve in her tank of forgiveness?

If so then she is a better person than me.