Some of it is quite deep and, well, not profound, but verging on the grown up and intelligent. However, an awful lot of it seems to be random pointless thinking which has no particular outcome or purpose. But then I guess this is the mind's way of relaxing and unravelling when for the most part these days it is focussed on a million things and nothing all at once. On one occasion I spent more time than is healthy wondering why the washing machine in the Peppa Pig household is never EVER on. With two small children, a husband and me (I do occasionally like to wear something clean and baby-sick free), mine seems to be on a constant, never ending cycle, and we don't have the same collective obsession with jumping in muddy puddles as the pig family does. Sure, there is one episode that is dedicated to washing ("oh no - Daddy Pig's white football shirt has turned pink, what a pickle". I'd like to feel I'd be that calm, or indeed that Daddy Dobson would find it as funny as Daddy Pig does, but alas I'm not hopeful) but other than that, despite many scenes taking place in the kitchen, that machine is NEVER on. Perhaps they have maids' quarters somewhere, and staff that do all of that for them - perhaps they outsource it - Miss Rabbit probably has a launderette somewhere.
If I am expressing rather than actually feeding a live human being, often my thoughts focus around how feasible/easy/lucrative it would be to invent a silent pump. One who's very noise didn't act as a constant reminder that, for that 15 minute period at least, you are no higher up the chain than a member of a dairy herd.
Often, I take the time to contemplate what I might write about next - perhaps something I've recently witnessed in the news, on the street, in my life. Sometimes funny, sometimes not so, it is often in these moments that I come to understand what's important to me, what makes me tick - what's touched me. Which is why, whatever I have been thinking about, nine times out of ten it comes full circle back to that little bundle I am nursing, and the one I not so long ago finished nursing, but who still runs to me when he is in need (though to be fair his needs are frequently biscuit related these days). Those little miracles right there, who I have managed to grow, feed and keep alive. It all comes back to them in the end and how, when this period of Beth's life is finished I'll be more than a little bit sad. Not just because I will be losing precious thinking time, but because, well, you know - it will mean that my last little bundle is no longer such a little bundle.