The House Is Falling To Bits

As I sit here sipping sugary tea and nibbling (mostly) dry toast, it is day 8 of the hell that began last Thursday night with our trip to A&E with Adam puking blood.

It continued with Simon throwing up on Sunday and Adam cranky and pulling his ear.

It went further on Wednesday with Adam back at nursery but me at my biggest clients for meetings all day.

And then yesterday I woke up feeling achy and tired and with a headache. Simon had to go to work for Open Days, when the 6th Formers (7th years? What are they called now?!) come to see the University. So I was at home with an active 2 year old and find myself vomiting. Things compounded when said 2 year old was just falling asleep after lunch and I had to basically throw him into bed to go puke. Yeah. He didn’t sleep. Luckily Simon got home by 230 and I headed to bed. And spent the evening and part of the night throwing up.

And so the house is falling to bits.

You see, I have a schedule for cleaning. I hate cleaning, as most people do, so if I don’t put it into my phone with a reminder and a day to do it, it won’t get done. Or it will get done only on weekends which leaves no family time.

So I set a schedule. This past Monday I was suppose to clean the bathrooms, for example. Adam was home from nursery and, as I recall, napped for about 10 minutes, so that didn’t happen.

Wednesday I was suppose to change the beds, catch up on my laundry folding and hoover the bedrooms and hallway. I was at my client site all day.

Today, Friday, I should be running (toddler free!) errands and tidying and hoovering the front rooms and finishing laundry.

Instead, I’m sipping sweet tea, eating (mostly) dry toast and am about to head back to bed.

So the bathrooms need a wipe. The floors need a hoover.  And you can’t get into the spare bedroom for all the clothes piled up to be folded. We are almost out of nappies, I need to put 2 cheques into the bank, my finally repaired jeans need to be picked up from the tailor, we are nearly out of juice and milk. It’s Friday night so pudding and wine need to be bought.

Instead, I’m sipping sweet tea, eating (mostly) dry toast and am about to head back to bed.

Adam threw a major strop about going to nursery, I imagine because he basically didn’t see me from about 230 yesterday until 730 this morning and this whole week has been weird. So he’s been promised a trip to the museum on Sunday; a cross my heart, pinky swear, high five promise that I wouldn’t go back on if you held a gun to my head.

Oh and I think I have some emails to send for my biggest client.

So the house is falling to bits and I really should do something about some of this stuff.

Instead, I’m sipping sweet tea, eating (mostly) dry toast and am about to head back to bed.

Lord*, Give Me Strength

There are two things that Adam has/does that can be considered babyish. He still uses a dummy and he still drinks 3 bottles of milk a day.

The dummies will be tackled in about another 6 months when Simon and I think he will be able to understand why he can’t have them or at least be bribed with a toy if he ‘sends his dummies to the babies through Santa’.

The bottles on the other hand…

Milk is the only thing he drinks from a bottle. And only at home. Everything else, and at daycare, he drinks out of a sippy cup or an open beaker. With no problems or issues.

But at home he would rather not have milk than drink it from anything than a bottle. And if you knew my son and his love of milk you would understand just how much he wants that milk in a bottle and not a sippy cup. He just loves snuggling in with Mummy or Daddy and having those bottles. And it is such a source of comfort to him.

This morning we got up and, as agreed with Simon last night, I put his milk in a sippy cup. He sipped not a sip.

And so I am trying to be strong. Intellectually I know he doesn’t need the milk. He eats a wide variety of foods, including plenty of cheese for his dairy. And I know he will drink the milk from the sippy cup eventually as this isn’t the first time we’ve tried this, although not with his morning bottle. I’ve been trying to get him to drink his after lunch milk from a cup for ages.

I also know I don’t want to make him give up his before bed bottle. We both love our pre-sleep cuddle and I would miss it.

So I was strong. And Adam had a crap morning. Tripping over his own feet twice, ending in tears. Once while holding his cup of OJ. So OJ on the floor, crying, cranky baby.

Then Simon got up (Sundays he gets to lie in. I get Saturdays). And I told him about our morning. And he said ‘Give him some milk in a bottle. I bet that will help.” So I did. And it did.

And I will continue to do so. Despite the judgement of others. Despite my own lack of strength in the matter.

I doubt he will drink milk out of a bottle at Uni. But so what if he does???

*Okay, so I don’t actually believe in the Lord referenced in my title, but it sounded good and I do believe in a higher power.

Mummy’s Sick Day

What’s that you say? Mummy’s don’t get sick days?

Usually true. But this Mummy has been feeling horrid for at least a week. Missed sleep, stress of ill boy, stress of an emergency with a client (which is thisclose to being resolved, thank god) and, as of this afternoon, a low lever fever led to me saying to Simon ‘I’m taking to my bed on Thursday.’

And I did.

This, of course, was only made possible by three factors. Factor one: Adam at daycare. Factor two: Simon off work on holiday and able to get Adam to and from said daycare. Factor three: the ability to ignore my to do list, which is still as long as my arm and growing all the time.

So I got up with my boys as usual. And the second they were out the door I was back in bed. And there I stayed. Slept. Read some stuff on my phone. Actually did about 5 minutes of work dealing with said clients said emergency. Ate lunch in bed. Slept some more.

I’m still not feeling great and will try to have an early night. But I would feel worse if I had pushed myself, my spoons were so low already.

So Mummy had a sick day.

And feels a bit better for it.

Simon and I agree

Less leftover cheese after it’s grated for quesadillas is a small price to pay for such a lovely little man in our lives!

It used to be that I’d grate the cheese and then give Simon a big hunk of leftovers. Now he and Adam split the big hunk and get a small hunk each.

We realized this when Simon was on the phone when I was handing out said cheese.

Simon came back into the kitchen and said, ‘Is this for me?’ pointing to the hunk on the cutting board.

‘Yes,’ I replied. ‘Adam already has his.’

And then I continued ‘You used to get more, before there was Adam.’ with a big grin.

Simon grinned back and said ‘I was just thinking that.’

Subtext – glad to have less cheese and an Adam!

Man, I’m A Crap Blogger These Days

I would apologize, again, except I don’t feel like it. 🙂

Not much to blog about really. Just living our lives. Working, playing, sleeping, eating.

Simon turned a new age a week ago. I’d tell you how old but he doesn’t like to talk about it. However, I’m 42 and he’s 5 years younger. (Yes, I Tweeted that same thing. The old jokes are the best.)

Adam is growing and growing and all of his jeans are too short, so need to buy him some more.

This weekend is Mothers’ Day (Mother’s Day?) in the UK so Simon’s mum and dad are coming down to celebrate that *and* Simon’s birthday *and* Mother-in-Law’s birthday *and* In Laws’ wedding anniversary.

The weather has been decidedly spring like except yesterday when Adam and I had plans for the park. We went to the park in drizzle anyway. Adam was not impressed and didn’t do much. If he could talk he’d have said ‘Mum, it’s raining? What the *hell* are we doing at the park?!?’ I think he thinks he’d melt. In truth he looked adorable in his slicker with the hood up.

Speaking of Adam, 22 months is looming. Which means 2 years is looming. I am *not* ready for my baby to be 2. Can I just stop that from happening? No? Damn.

And in an unrelated issue: I only answer my mobile if it’s a number I don’t recognize when I am actually working. So if send your phone number to voice mail 3 days in a row? Leave me a freakin’ message! Otherwise I am assuming you are trying to sell me something and not answer your number even if I *am* working.

Let’s Talk About St Patrick’s Day

And what happens here in Belfast.

Drunken debauchery, mostly.

Most people have the day off and so they start drinking early. Simon took Adam to daycare as usual today (so we could do things around the house without Adam underfoot, a rare occurrence!) and people were already queueing at Tesco with booze to buy.

Simon was a bit concerned about my going to pick Adam up for 5 due to people having been drinking all day. But it was really no big deal.

For one thing, there were cops everywhere on my main route. For another, all of the pubs and bars had very obvious security standing outside and, I’m sure, inside.

I did see people already drunk at 430. But I also saw a lot of people just having fun. Wearing big green hats. Wearing those headbands with shamrocks at the ends of springs. Laughing. Hanging out with their friends. Enjoying a gorgeous early spring evening and, yes, having a drink.

So how are Simon and I celebrating St Patrick’s Day?

Well, we cleaned the flat without a small boy underfoot.

Then we had some smoked salmon for lunch.

Then we napped.

Then I got Adam from daycare and Simon cooked spaghetti.

And now a small boy is fast asleep (at 730, whoohoo!) and Simon and I are sharing some Stella and having an Easter Egg.

So Happy St Patrick’s Day.

And enjoy the craic!

A Love Story.

Today while waiting for Simon at the front of Eason with Adam in the pram, I saw that Cadbury Cream Eggs were 2 for £0.85. I thought ‘ooh, I should grab two and take them up to him’ but then decided it would be too hard to manoeuvre the pram to the queue, which is why Adam and I wait for him at the front of the shop.

But what did he hand me after he got through the queue?

A Cadbury Cream Egg.

Yet more proof that Simon and I are perfect for each other.

Maybe I’ll even marry him.

Oh. Wait…

So, Do I Have Any New Years Resolutions?

Not really.

I mean, I have plans and goals for 2011 but I wouldn’t call them resolutions.

I want us to move to a house, probably rented but buying is not off the table right now.

I would like at least one more client for a few hours a week or to create a website for someone from scratch.

And that’s about it, really.

It’s been a good year, just past.  With Simon getting a great job advancement and my company doing fairly well.

So I don’t really have any resolutions.

And one wish…for an entire month, just one month, of no illness for Adam. 🙂

I Have Spent The Last Few Days

as it looks more and more likely that Christmas will be Simon, Adam and I, due to my in laws being iced in, thinking about Christmases past with my family.

And I wonder, does my step mom still yell down the stairs, after being woken by the younger generation, once her children, now her grandchildren, ‘Did he come?’  Just as if she wasn’t the one who arranged the gifts under the tree.

Do my brother and step-sister remember the year we stood out and lighted the Illuminares over and over and over again?  And the one year where one of the bags caught fire because of the wind and my brother had to stamp it out?

The year I got mad as my slightly drunk step mother insisted that I go to bed so Santa could come because I was the baby and I was at least 21?

The first Christmas J & B and I were in California and we were so broke but still had one of the best Christmases ever.

The year my dad had a heart attack at Thanksgiving and I went home for Christmas for the first time since I had moved to California.

My first horribly homesick Christmas in Northern Ireland, when I left Simon at the local pub and crawled into bed to cry.

Being with my family last year, for the first time in 6 years.

And now, just me and Simon and Adam.  Our first Christmas in our own place.  We wish the in laws could be here, but the weather is against us.

So we’ll eat a ton of turkey.  And a lot of sausages.  And possibly waaaay to much stuffing (everyone has sent me Stove Top! I have four boxes!).

And have a Happy Christmas.

A Weekend In Review

No, not the one I spent in Dublin.  I still haven’t written that one.  But I will. Promise.

Just an ordinary weekend Chez Fraser is what I mean.

Saturday:  Beautiful sunny day here in Belfast.  Just incredible for this time of year.  Not even all that cold, I went out in just a jumper over a t-shirt.  Took Adam for a walk at City Hall.  He walked all the way from one side of the lawn to the other, about the distance of a city block.  After that we went to Boots and Tesco.  In Tesco he fell asleep.  And stayed asleep until after Simon and I had lunch!  I’m liking this walking thing!

Sunday: Spent the morning just hanging around the house.  Adam and I had a bad nights sleep so after Simon woke up I took myself back to bed for a bit.  Then made Pancakes, with Aunt Jemima Mix my friend Lisa sent me, with bacon for lunch.  Then Simon took Adam out for a quick trip to the shops and another walk while I changed the sheets on all the beds in the house.

Not the most exciting life, perhaps, but it suits us.

And I am dreading when Adam makes friends and we have playdates.  Because, ya know, I don’t really like most other people.

Truly I don’t.