Saturday, October 13, 2007

Spot of Rugger, anyone?

Dear France,

Although I carve up your snow, enjoy your food and take in your stunning Alpine vistas, at this point I'm afraid I only have one statement to make:


Just in case you misunderstood: That's 9 to you . 14 to us.


Thursday, October 11, 2007

My goodness...

I have tried my hardest - and usually failed - to keep up to date with everyone else's blogs, but from what I have read, it looks like everyone has been really busy in cyberscribospace. I deeply apologise for the extreme lack of updates from this end. I am still alive - I think.

It's been manic. A learning curve. A waking nightmare. A total headf***. But he's gorgeous all the same. However, I have discovered the perils of having a baby - he has a social diary like I have never, ever had myself:

Monday - 'rest day' [i.e. yoga with Mummy, playmat with Mummy, singing with Mummy, repeatedly making silly noises with Mummy, sensory book time with Mummy, shopping with Mummy, cleaning with Mummy, hanging out the washing with Mummy, gardening with Mummy, "This Morning" with Phillip & Fern (and Mummy).]
Tuesday - Massage class (Baby Massage, of course)
Wednesday - Swimming class
Thursday - ante-natal mates coffee & cakes/general moan session/babies all cry together etc
Friday - Music class

Other times are taken up with the 'rest day' agenda - all of which are carried out in five minute intervals as The Kid doesn't have much patience beyond that. Notice I have dropped the Colic from his name? Well, he still suffers but it's mainly reflux-related. At one point, after a fairly terrible day of chaos everywhere we went, I christened him The 'Colic, Reflux And Pandemonium' Kid. However, I fear sticking to that acronym would create an unfair tag for his future, methinks.

At our Baby Massage class the other day, The Mothers were discussing when they were planning on going back to work: January for some, May for others, the rest in between. The thing is, I don't feel as though I have stopped to be honest. I have a little notebook next to my bed which is full of feed times, feed amounts, reflux times and nappy contents - the description that is, not the actual contents. At the other end of the aforementioned notebook, however, are pages and pages of one-liners, character notes, vague and not-so-vague story outlines, random ideas, snippets of dialogue, great 'newly discovered' words to use and a complete outline for a book which is, as I type, like my boy, in it's early infancy. There was some sort of method in my midnight madness when I decided to keep both in the same notebook - there is no way in the world I would lose the Sh*t, Eat and Sleep Log, so there's no way to lose the writing notes either. Smart l'il me. I also generally have a spare dummy attached to my mobile or purse these days. Ditto, not losing either. I always know where the dummy is.

So, The Kid - he's good. Looks more like a two year old, has been randomly teething for a month now, has a false 'look at me NOW!' cry, laughs uncontrollably at me when he wakes during the night (really not funny...) is desperately trying to walk, has a favourite toy he named Bebo, has finished his third PhD and probably logs into Facebook when I'm not watching. I have some great new photos, some of which I will upload soon for all the cyberaunts and uncs to see - I'm just waiting for his replica cover of Nirvana's 'Nevermind' to arrive. He is quite taken with TV - the little guy really knows what he likes - but I fear he may end up the youngest ever Daytime TV Controller. Now, don't get me wrong, he liked Ruth and Eamonn over the summer but as soon as he heard Phillip and Fern's voices again after their return from summer break, his little face lit up.

You know, coming to think of it, maybe he didn't shout "Bebo" at his toy all those weeks ago. Perhaps it was BBC?

Hope you're all well.