Had I made any new year resolutions, I could actually have already broken them despite it being only 9.30pm on December 31. That's because ye olde Celtic new year observed by many a modern-day pagan starts on November 1. So I won't be making any special resolutions tonight, beyond the ones I make most nights which include never drinking again, eating some fruit for breakfast, getting out in the fresh air more and attempting to maintain my infinite patience a little bit better.
And I'm afraid I'm a fireworks killjoy. Since when did new year's eve become an excuse for letting them off from as soon as it goes dark til three in the morning? (Ever since the millennium, I think.) Shouldn't be allowed outside of November 5 in my opinion. Grrr.
So as there's nowt special about tonight I'll be off to bed. After a small glass of Baileys.
Thursday, 31 December 2009
Tuesday, 29 December 2009
Choo choo shoes
He came up with the phrase all by himself, not bad for a boy who is not in a big hurry to get on to talking. He's signing all the time though, signs coming out that I didn't even know he'd learnt. He keeps telling me he wants to go to bed but he certainly doesn't mean it!Anyway, our downstairs floors are cold and we both need slippers now that it's no longer flip-flop weather. At least he's sorted, I still need to find some. Maybe I should knit some, but not in the shape of trains! Anyone know how to make knitted ones non-slippery?
Daddy brought little man home shortly after ten and we've had a nice relaxed day: While we tidied up clothes we pretended to go to sleep and played tents under the duvet; we turned a plastic box into a boat and had a run-in with a crocodile, a lion and a jellyfish; we had a bus ride to the library during which he fell asleep in a ring sling and gave me a seriously achy back; I dished up spag bol while he followed me round trying to put cars in my back pockets...
Moments of simple silliness to be treasured.
Monday, 28 December 2009
Behind the facade
Behind the knitting (a boy doll for little man) and the decorating (more woodwork to paint) and the cooking (Hairy Bikers' panna cotta was a big disappointment) and the commuting (in ice, snow, fog, rain...) and the buying (a new camera), I'm actually not really ok. There we go, I said it. I'm not ok.
Now that I've moved house, the next thing on the to-do list is to get divorced. I don't want to get divorced. But I don't seem to get any say in this matter. Boxing Day was the first anniversary of me finding the text messages on STBE husband's phone from the woman he was having an affair with. So not a great time really.
Little man has also ended up spending more time away from me than ever before over the past few weeks for a variety of reasons that, on their own, seem reasonable but have added up to a pretty heartbreaking series of separations.
And here's the interactive bit: STBE husband picked little man up yesterday (Sun) morning because I was working in the afternoon and today and is meant to be returning him tomorrow (Tue) morning. Was it unreasonable of me to be upset to receive a text this morning telling me they had gone to north Wales and would be staying at a B&B tonight because he wanted some time away from his parents, where he currently lives, and was it ok for him to bring little man home a couple of hours later so they could do something there in the morning, like visit a castle? This would be the little man who has just moved house and needs to settle in and whose mummy is putting off having a little holiday for that very reason.
Now that I've moved house, the next thing on the to-do list is to get divorced. I don't want to get divorced. But I don't seem to get any say in this matter. Boxing Day was the first anniversary of me finding the text messages on STBE husband's phone from the woman he was having an affair with. So not a great time really.
Little man has also ended up spending more time away from me than ever before over the past few weeks for a variety of reasons that, on their own, seem reasonable but have added up to a pretty heartbreaking series of separations.
And here's the interactive bit: STBE husband picked little man up yesterday (Sun) morning because I was working in the afternoon and today and is meant to be returning him tomorrow (Tue) morning. Was it unreasonable of me to be upset to receive a text this morning telling me they had gone to north Wales and would be staying at a B&B tonight because he wanted some time away from his parents, where he currently lives, and was it ok for him to bring little man home a couple of hours later so they could do something there in the morning, like visit a castle? This would be the little man who has just moved house and needs to settle in and whose mummy is putting off having a little holiday for that very reason.
Sunday, 27 December 2009
My library
Too many books? Never! I just need to get round to sorting them all out... but at least my new house comes with a healthy amount of shelving.
Christmas Day went well. Little man loves the kitchen daddy made for him and he ate his own weight in chipolatas. Little man, not daddy. We all had a sunny, icy walk down by the river.
Now I'm having that post-Christmas feeling of wanting to get back to normal. I think New Year's Eve will find me tucked up in bed for an early night. Especially as little man has woken up in the early hours the last couple of nights and then fidgeted his way through the rest of the night.
But now he's off with daddy again while I work for a couple of days.
But now he's off with daddy again while I work for a couple of days.
Wednesday, 23 December 2009
Home and away
The snow arrived eventually. But I don't have any cute pictures of little man playing in it, because he has been with his dad since Monday. While I have been moving house, the amount of time he has spent away from me and with his father has crept up. My variable shift patterns have contributed to this. Now, STBE husband's relatives are visiting from afar and so once more little man's presence is required. And now that I am only 15 minutes' drive away it seems so much stranger to not have him with me despite him being so close.
Of course, this gives me the opportunity to Get Things Done. At my pace, ie tearing around like a lunatic, banging into things and getting irate (who'd have thought the door handles in my new house would be such a problem; each one I pass either whacks me in the arm or hooks itself onto my clothing). I have presents to wrap, boxes to shift into the loft (where no doubt I will stand and gaze out of the Velux window at my river view), panna cotta to make courtesy of the Hairy Bikers, piles of washing to get through, brandy snaps to munch, snowy motorways to navigate so I can get to work later.
And now that moving house is over, STBE husband and I are going to have to sit down and talk about when 'STBE' is going to become simply 'ex'. Unless of course he decides to admit what a twat he's been, apologise profusely for his behaviour and book a very, very long course of relationship counselling.... Divorce it is then.
Of course, this gives me the opportunity to Get Things Done. At my pace, ie tearing around like a lunatic, banging into things and getting irate (who'd have thought the door handles in my new house would be such a problem; each one I pass either whacks me in the arm or hooks itself onto my clothing). I have presents to wrap, boxes to shift into the loft (where no doubt I will stand and gaze out of the Velux window at my river view), panna cotta to make courtesy of the Hairy Bikers, piles of washing to get through, brandy snaps to munch, snowy motorways to navigate so I can get to work later.
And now that moving house is over, STBE husband and I are going to have to sit down and talk about when 'STBE' is going to become simply 'ex'. Unless of course he decides to admit what a twat he's been, apologise profusely for his behaviour and book a very, very long course of relationship counselling.... Divorce it is then.
Saturday, 19 December 2009
Bob the Builder gets let off
I found the key to managing toddler mischief: television. Little man specifically requested it this afternoon via some pointing and mumbling. I thought, well ok, half an hour isn't going to do any harm. He sat on the settee completely still and silent for about an hour and a half. I kept thinking, I'll just wash up then I can put the telly off and we'll look at some books... I'll just get the dinner on then I can put the telly off and we'll make some music (read noise).... I'll just get this load of washing in then I can put the telly off and we'll draw a picture... I'll just sort out this last box then I can put the telly off and we'll build a tower....
So there we have it, I have the solution. Will I be doing it again? Of course not. Sure, it made little man easy to manage for a short while, but at what cost? He turned into a passive, listless, blankly staring little thing. So I'll carry on involving him in all my everyday tasks, however much harder that makes them. And finding other ways for me to cope with the toddler energy. After all, it's me that needs to cope, it's not little man who has any problem with it.
Where does Bob the Builder come into this? I sat down with little man while the risotto and the sticky chicken drumsticks were cooking and watched this one programme with him. Bob and his team constructed a cruck-frame timber and straw-bale cottage that was a cartoon replica of Ben Law's Woodland House, as featured on Grand Designs a few years ago. Now that kind of telly I'd like him to see more of: then he can be inspired to become a woodsman and build me one!
In other news: It's not the entire country that is blanketed in snow. We had about eight flakes this afternoon. Now it's raining.
So there we have it, I have the solution. Will I be doing it again? Of course not. Sure, it made little man easy to manage for a short while, but at what cost? He turned into a passive, listless, blankly staring little thing. So I'll carry on involving him in all my everyday tasks, however much harder that makes them. And finding other ways for me to cope with the toddler energy. After all, it's me that needs to cope, it's not little man who has any problem with it.
Where does Bob the Builder come into this? I sat down with little man while the risotto and the sticky chicken drumsticks were cooking and watched this one programme with him. Bob and his team constructed a cruck-frame timber and straw-bale cottage that was a cartoon replica of Ben Law's Woodland House, as featured on Grand Designs a few years ago. Now that kind of telly I'd like him to see more of: then he can be inspired to become a woodsman and build me one!
In other news: It's not the entire country that is blanketed in snow. We had about eight flakes this afternoon. Now it's raining.
Friday, 18 December 2009
Run away!
In ye olden days, my son might have been called naughty. Or at least mischievous. I think his behaviour is perfectly natural toddler behaviour. However, this doesn't make it easy to live with, especially when I'm feeling a bit frazzled myself and somewhat lacking in patience.
If there's a switch or dial within reach he wants to press it or twiddle it. If we're in a busy place, perhaps involving traffic, and I need him to stay close he will try to run away. If I ask him to stop bashing his little car into something (radiators, my legs, chairs, tables etc) he only does it harder. If he isn't strapped into his highchair he tries to climb out, posing a danger to his own head should he fall. All my baubles are now on the top half of the tree because he was pulling them apart. If we're at some kind of play group and there's an open door, he will run out of it. Getting him dressed involves me chasing him around with each garment until I can pin him down for ten seconds. When I'm trying to lace his shoes, he starts kicking his feet around and squirming away. Should I, heaven forbid, attempt to do some mundane chore that involves waiting in a queue or at a desk... he will of course run away repeatedly and will not tolerate staying strapped in a pushchair. Despite all this running away, if I want him to walk a short way with me he very quickly grabs hold of my legs and tries to climb up them until I pick him up.
And because I have been so busy and stressed I am dealing with all this as and when it happens in a less than ideal way instead of anticipating it and having some idea of how to handle all that toddler energy and emotion. And a raised voice simply makes him go into a frantic mode in which he tries harder to do whatever I don't want him to do more quickly before I can stop him.
So all in all my conclusion is this: I need a holiday. I'm thinking two or three nights (which I can fit around work) in a quiet cottage by the sea. Somewhere properly dark at night. Only problem is whether it's fair on the little fella to drag him off somewhere else before he realises that where we are now is home.
Have I mentioned that he was awake at four this morning and fidgeting for a good hour or so...? That as he goes about his toddler business he has taken to chanting 'mummy, mummy, mummy...', which sounds cute but (whisper it) gets a bit wearing after a while, that he cried inconsolably when we went for a play in the forest this morning and for a good half hour in the car on the way back for some reason that I certainly couldn't work out, that he is currently obsessed with cats (miaow), that he now has all teeth but the big molars, that he has been frustratingly on the verge of being able to talk to me for some time now but seems a bit stuck on the frustrated whinging stage. That he thinks my little statue of Buddha doing baduanjin is the troubliphone.
If there's a switch or dial within reach he wants to press it or twiddle it. If we're in a busy place, perhaps involving traffic, and I need him to stay close he will try to run away. If I ask him to stop bashing his little car into something (radiators, my legs, chairs, tables etc) he only does it harder. If he isn't strapped into his highchair he tries to climb out, posing a danger to his own head should he fall. All my baubles are now on the top half of the tree because he was pulling them apart. If we're at some kind of play group and there's an open door, he will run out of it. Getting him dressed involves me chasing him around with each garment until I can pin him down for ten seconds. When I'm trying to lace his shoes, he starts kicking his feet around and squirming away. Should I, heaven forbid, attempt to do some mundane chore that involves waiting in a queue or at a desk... he will of course run away repeatedly and will not tolerate staying strapped in a pushchair. Despite all this running away, if I want him to walk a short way with me he very quickly grabs hold of my legs and tries to climb up them until I pick him up.
And because I have been so busy and stressed I am dealing with all this as and when it happens in a less than ideal way instead of anticipating it and having some idea of how to handle all that toddler energy and emotion. And a raised voice simply makes him go into a frantic mode in which he tries harder to do whatever I don't want him to do more quickly before I can stop him.
So all in all my conclusion is this: I need a holiday. I'm thinking two or three nights (which I can fit around work) in a quiet cottage by the sea. Somewhere properly dark at night. Only problem is whether it's fair on the little fella to drag him off somewhere else before he realises that where we are now is home.
Have I mentioned that he was awake at four this morning and fidgeting for a good hour or so...? That as he goes about his toddler business he has taken to chanting 'mummy, mummy, mummy...', which sounds cute but (whisper it) gets a bit wearing after a while, that he cried inconsolably when we went for a play in the forest this morning and for a good half hour in the car on the way back for some reason that I certainly couldn't work out, that he is currently obsessed with cats (miaow), that he now has all teeth but the big molars, that he has been frustratingly on the verge of being able to talk to me for some time now but seems a bit stuck on the frustrated whinging stage. That he thinks my little statue of Buddha doing baduanjin is the troubliphone.
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