I am writing this on my iPhone, in the low light in Adam’s room, trying to settle him in his cot.
It’s Saturday night and I used to spend this time with my husband, drinking wine and watching movies. Now I spend it waiting for a small boy to be asleep enough to go in his cot.
This is what mummies do. They give up their wine drinking and movie watching to make sure their small people settle well into their beds.
Adam is ill again so any thoughts Simon and I had of trying to get him to settle himself are on hold until he is well. If he’s ever well.
So I sit, with my small boy on my lap, trying to move him into his cot every 15 minutes.
Yeah. Okay. So today as I start to write this you are 17.5 months. Mummy’s late again. She’s sorry.
And by the time I got back to it, you were nearly 18 months. As of, well, tomorrow. Sorry again.
Why is she late? No time again. You’ve been ill, again. You’ve pretty much been ill for 6 months. No wonder you’re sleeping like crap. I doubt you even know what feeling well is like. Poor wee boy. Right now as I type this you’ve got a double ear infection and a red throat. Oh how you hate having your throat looked at.
Now you have inhalers which you hate. And had to use a nebulizer at the GP’s. Which you despised. It’s not been a great month for you.
Although lot’s of good stuff has happened. You’ve definitely found your feet. You now own a pair of proper shoes. You’re attending daycare a full day and half day a week. You’re adding to your vocabulary.
You and mummy go for walks at City Hall:
You’re thinking about climbing up on things. In fact Daddy said you actually tried to get up on Mama and Dada’s bed yesterday, but couldn’t quite figure it out. I keep recommending you get up on a sofa, because they are lower, but you seem to really want to be on the bed!
Which reminds me of watching your cousin, I think it was Sara, leaping up and grabbing the sheets on her Mama and Dada’s bed, to pull herself up. You should try that.
You are getting very good at asking for what you want, by pointing. And you have about 6 words.
Mama is going to measure you tomorrow but she knows you weigh 26 pounds as of last week. And your belly is disappearing so your trousers don’t stay up! You are beginning to be shaped in a cross between your Uncle Jeff and your Dada when they were your age. Tall and skinny, with all your height in your torso. Makes it very hard to buy you clothes when you are 2T from the waist up and 18 months from the waist down!
And it’s nearly Christmas. Granny Grace and Grandpa Tom will be here for that. And then 2 weeks later Grandma and Pops with the dark hair will be here to see you. We are not letting Grandma out of our sight this time, no side trips to London to get ill!
So it’s been a busy, if not well, time my small boy.
And Mama had better post this before you wake up from your nap. Or you may be 19 months before she does…
Monday – Actually not too bad, as I went to the Pain Clinic and have been scheduled for Acupuncture after the 1st of the year.
Tuesday – Washer repair man suppose to be here between 8 and 10. At 9 my phone rings telling me the repairman is ill and won’t be here until Friday. So we enter week 2 with no washing machine. And I’m off to an evening gig, that I was 20 minutes late for because it took 30 minutes to get from here to the client’s in the pouring rain in a taxi. Because it never rains in Belfast so no one knows how to drive in it. O__o
Wednesday – Horrible nights sleep but swamped with work, processing the video from Tuesday night, so can’t have a rest while Adam is at Germcare (TM). At about 10 there’s a knock on my door. It’s the plasterer, who was suppose to be here Tuesday afternoon, to take a look at the paint that is bubbling again in my hall, assumed to be from a leak in the heating pipes as it was fine until the heating was turned on. He has no idea what he’s suppose to do, so I tell him landlord said he’d cut a small hole in the wall to look for a leak. He starts banging away and I try to get back to work. Suddenly it goes quite so I go to look. He’s left, leaving the front door open, and half my wall is stripped to the breeze block. Angry email to my landlord with a picture. He’s suppose to be back Monday morning at 9.
Thursday – Diabetes Clinic. With Adam in tow. Who was, as always, a star. Except when the blood pressure cuff was ripped off my arm. That scared him and made him cry. Adding more Metphormin to my daily dose and see them in 6 months.
Friday – Washer guy shows up at 800. By 9 he insists it’s fixed. I ask him to let it run a bit longer but he insists it’s fixed and hauls ass. By 915 washer was having the same fault. Rang the repair company. They ring the repair guy to get him back but he tells them he’s been gone for 40 minutes and can’t come back. I tell the repair company that’s bull. They say too bad, but that he said to turn it off completely and unplug it, run a new cycle and it should work, but they’ll book in a repair visit for Monday morning. So I did. And it still doesn’t work. So I haul 2 weeks of wash, in a duffel bag with wheels my mum left when she never returned in June and two Tesco bags, pushing Adam in his pram with one hand, up to the nearest launderette, in a hail storm. 3 hours and £20 later I’m home and the wash is done. Of course, if it wasn’t for our service contract on the washer, it would have been about £200 later with no working washer as that was how much the repair guy said the new part and labour would have been without the contract.
Today officially marks Adam’s 5th round of antibiotics in the last 5 months. That’s right, an infection a month, more or less.
So I’m tired. And everything is suffering; my clients, the house, this blog.
He started at Daycare full days Mondays on 1st November. Since then either he or Simon have been home on what is suppose to be *my* day! So *my* day hasn’t really happened yet.
This coming Monday should be the first one, but I have a doctor’s appointment at 1130, so I still won’t be able to get everything I want to get finished, finished.
I promise when my first true *my* day happens, I’ll put up the Dublin post. And Adam’s 17 month newsletter.
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.
Anyone who knows my husband will know he’s a very private person who doesn’t like to talk about feelings or things like that. I’ve known him for nearly 10 years, married for 6, and there are times even I am not sure what he is feeling.
But the one thing I can always count on is that he’s there. Maybe silent, just being a shoulder, but there.
I am not an easy person to live with. Forget the Fibro/Arthritis/Early Degenerative Disease/Mental Illnesses/Diabetes. I wasn’t easy to live with before any of that was diagnosed. Imagine how I am now?
It was just after Simon and I started chatting as friends on the ‘net that I got my first Mental Health diagnosis of Bi-Polar Disorder. Which was wrong, but not the point of this post. Anyway, when he found out Simon did some research on what that meant. Just so he could be supportive. I was engaged to someone else at that point, by the way. He was just being a good friend.
And he’s been a good friend ever since. And an excellent husband.
He goes out of his way to help, especially if he can tell I am in pain. He knows I often don’t tell him how bad it is, just because there is no point. He has a job. He has to go to it. I have Fibro and have to take care of Adam. So sometimes I just don’t mention it.
But he knows me. And he watches me wince as I lift Adam or even take the milk out of the ‘fridge. And he does what he can. Comes home early. Leaves a bit late. Takes Adam up to Daycare so I can have an extra hour to myself.
He’s not perfect, who is? But he’s pretty darn close.
And I couldn’t do what I do, run Designed To A Tee, take care of Adam, run our house, do our finances etc etc etc if he wasn’t right there behind me the whole time.
And now, to make me even prouder, he’s officially a Teaching Fellow at the University.
The only problem is he expects me to call him Mr Fraser now.
Apologies to everyone who checks regularly to see if I’ve updated. (in other words, Hi Mom!)
I’ve been incredibly busy with work stuff and a boy who walks and doesn’t want to do anything else and baby proofing more and all that boring life stuff.
This coming Monday, 1st November, Adam starts all day daycare on Mondays, so I’ll have some extra time.
I do have a blog post about my trip to Dublin. It’s just in a notebook. In my sloppy handwriting.
But I promise it is coming.
Along with a special post about a special person who is going to kill me for writing it.
Speaking of him, he’s just accepted a job as a Teaching Fellow. We’ve all been walking 3 feet in the air.
Yes. This is late this month. By quite a few days.
Why? 2 reasons: –
Mama has been very busy with you and work and the house and things; and
Mama feels like she’s been rushing these in order to get them up on your day, rather than take her time and really write what she wants to write.
So this month, she is taking her time. And it will be late. I’m sure you’ll forgive me. 🙂
You have changed so much in the past month. You’ve gone from being my baby to being my toddler. You walk. You ‘tell stories’ in babble speech. You play games with your toys. You have tantrums.
Right now, as I write this, you are playing on the floor in front of the computer. You’ve been entertaining yourself for about 15 minutes, tapping a bit of plastic on various things and listening to how they sound. You did the floor, the window and the coffee table. 3 taps and move on. Very scientific!
You have become very stubborn. Mama and Dada are trying to get you to drink milk out of a sippy cup, rather than a bottle. Water you drink no problem and, in fact, seem to like drinking that way. But milk? Not happening. Even if it is time for milk, such as mid afternoon, and you are wanting it very very badly, you will not drink it out of a sippy cup. You’d rather skip your milk (which you love) than drink out of that evil evil cup. Mama will win this battle. It’s just a matter of when!
Your sleep is still not great. Napping practically doesn’t happen at all, unless you fall asleep in your stroller and stay that way once we’re home or if Mama or Dada has time for you to sleep in their arms. Daycare says you fall asleep in a bouncy chair for them, but Mama has tried and it’s not worked.
Nights are slowly getting back to normal. You settle much easier most nights than you have been. Unfortunately you haven’t been sleeping through. You wake somewhere between 10 and 4 and will not go back to sleep unless Dada or I bring you into bed with us. This is fine for getting more sleep for all but certainly not ideal.
Speaking of daycare, you are thriving there, finally. Just as Mama was thinking about pulling you out you started to enjoy it. Now you cry only when Mama comes to get you. We aren’t sure if it’s because you missed her or because you’re disappointed you have to stop playing! In fact, starting in November you will be going all day on Monday’s!
Mama, you see, has picked up another client and really needs a bit more time to get everything done. So Dada and I talked about it and decided one full day and one half day a week would be ideal. And so it shall be.
This month you had your first haircut.
And did I mention the walking?
You’re getting better at it every day. It really is amazing to watch. Mama thinks there will be running before too long.
And then she’ll have to remember these wise words:
“Small boys are like dogs. They need one good run every day.”
I promise two long posts next week. Adam’s 16 month newsletter and my trip to Dublin post.
That’s right. I’m off to Dublin. Why? Because I can. Who with? Me. Myself. And I.
Nearly 48 hours of being Just Robyn. Not Mama. Not Wife. Just me.
I realized a few weeks ago I hadn’t had a real break since March, when I went to Manchester with my 40+ Mummies on Mumsnet. That’s a long time to be a Mum 24/7 without a break.
I realize most mum’s don’t get a break. But I’m lucky. I have a supportive husband who understands that I need one. And we counted our change jar and I had enough money to take one.
Also, I have a new client.
So I’m off to Dublin tomorrow.
I plan to sleep, eat, shop, sleep, read, sleep, eat, read, sleep and sleep.
