This is the last post for January which means I’m one twelfth through my unspoken resolution. Got to tell you it’s a commitment record for me. Whoop.
I really like some of the achievement style list and life goals I’ve seen around the blogosphere on my (far too regular) aimless wanderings. Turning some goals over in my mind I think the main one for now is to keep going, and be more present in the moment…. and wash up more. Plus a few more unspoken ones, actually saying or typing them will jinx them I’m sure so I’m not running the risk.
I’m surprisingly cheerful considering today is a fail so far on all my get organised, be tidier, do some cleaning daily resolutions. Could be because I’m about to put clean sheets on the bed which means clean fresh beds to slide into tonight.
Also there appear to be NO new spots today, break out the gin – which is hilarious because I have obviously already drained any spirit bottles left unadvisedly around.
I’m attempting a patchwork bag as a b’day gift for a friend who’s coming for tea on Thursday. For some reason my sewing machine wants to thwart me in this plan, tangling and chewing my pieces at every opportunity. Maybe it’s a sign but since I really can’t afford to shop properly and am sticking to the house to avoid any kind of temptation. I’ll try again later once I’ve confined the spotty one to bed.
Lots of beautiful things today. Shopping with Ida was fun with lots of time for her to help pick all the veg – she examines each sprout in detail. Any that aren’t perfectly green and spherical are returned to the box with a tiny disapproving frown. My granny would be proud.
This is the first time I’ve looked blankly at the draft screen. I’ve usually got a lot to say, (I’m not claiming it’s interesting or even makes sense..) Possibly it’s harder today because I’m finding it hard to remember my last longer than two hours stretch of uninterrupted sleep.
I mean the kids aren’t bad sleepers usually. I am and unfortunately it seems Z has inherited my sleepwalking tendencies. Steve usually wanders around the house in the early hours, drinking lemsips and playing tetris. In fact Ida usually goes 7.30 – 6 with minimal waking ( this is mostly due to my heartless application of controlled crying – more on this later*) and is the best sleeper out of us. Not at the moment though – not with the temperature and dreadful itching and, new this morning, spots in her eyes. Not good. Not good at all.
It’s funny how your body adjusts to very little shuteye but it’s like when your windows are really dirty and you don’t notice till you give them a good clean and suddenly light streams in. Sleep deprivation mists the world around you.
* I lied – I lied. Just wrote a
hagridden witty and insightful rant discourse on the thorny controlled crying issue and then lost it. Stupid computer, stupid spilt tea, stupid Laura for not saving draft.
I plan to regroup, fit in a bit of kip and try again.
BT today – calomine lotion..it smells lovely and it feels divine – Ida heaved a real sigh of relief today when we got to work with the bottle and the cotton wool. “dab dab mums, dab dab!”
It’s the chickenpox.
She went to bed with about twenty little blistery spots – had a pretty miserable night – and awoke with about two hundred. Everyone in Zeph’s class seems to have had it recently as well as two good friends and the little girl she plays with while Z has his swimming lesson so I did guess it may be coming but it still took me by surprise.
She is sunnily cheerful but only wants to drink and is clearly already itchy. Earlier I caught her arching her back against the table leg looking just like Sticky trying to shed his skin. As I type she is slung over my shoulder, her favourite dozing position. I feel torn between hating she’s ill and loving that when she is – she only wants to cuddle me. So selfish but the feel of her butting her nose into the crease of my neck and feeling the snuffly sleeping breath there makes my chest feel tight. Also this is one of the times when I don’t care we’re penniless as it’s such a blessed relief to just nurse her and not have to be desperately juggling and trying to arrange childcare. A big huzzah to anyone out there trying to keep everyone happy, care for their child and not piss off their boss/colleagues.
New measures for paternity leave is all very well and I agree completely in principle with the concept of families being able to choose and be flexible about who’s going to care for your baby rather than conforming to an outdated division of labour – working man and nurturing woman. What I really need and I’m sure I’m not alone, is more flexible working practices for anyone raising a family – all the way through the family process and a genuine recognition of the benefits and extra skill sets parents bring to the workplace. Rather than seeing them as costly, tied to one location, work shy problems.
Scouring the job pages is deeply depressing. Think about trying to make and sell stuff more consistently. I may mull it over whilst cuddling Ida on the sofa in front of Bagpuss. It’s started to rain again which vindicates my mood. We may have mashed potato for lunch, I feel in need of comfort and succor.
my BT today is a big rib cracking hug from a friend in the supermarket who doesn’t mind that my scabby daughter is slightly more interested in waving goodbye to the fish at the counter than to her.