Monthly Archives: September 2011

Fit your own oxygen mask first

I ate my breakfast at 12.10pm today.

Here’s why:

and on and on and on….

All I wanted was for this to magically fill

As I have tried to explain to my poor, long-suffering husband – it’s not what I have to do it’s how much I have to do. And the fact I never finish a task. Never.

I have been trying to get back to work over the last few weeks. I’ve been trying to figure out how best to wean the wee man. I’ve been trying to keep my house in some kind of order – and it’s just all too much sometimes.

But it’s OK – because I have learned some valuable lessons along the way:

  • It’s OK to spend a fortune on organic fruit purees because when you tried to make your own last night the smoothie machine woke the baby
  • It’s OK to think a smoothie machine is the same as a hand blender
  • It’s OK to think a whisk might do the job so you don’t need to buy a hand blender
  • It’s OK to spend ten quid on a hand blender
  • It’s OK to completely lose the plot when you lift the bin lid and it still hasn’t been emptied.
  • It’s OK to cry a bit when you mention the unemptied bin on the phone to your husband
  • It’s not OK to make him the scapegoat for everything that’s untidy in the house
  • It’s not OK forget to eat so that you have no fuel to deal with your crazy day
  • It’s OK to call your granma and ask her to help out with the pureed carrot recipe
  • It’s OK to ask granma how to store pureed carrot
  • It’s OK to call your dad and ask for advice on dealing with stress
  • It’s not really OK to burst into tears so that he has to pull in on the way to an important meeting and console you rather than prepare his notes
  • It’s OK to admit that you’re finding it all a bit overwhelming
  • It’s OK to ask for help
  • It’s OK to blog when you really should be tackling that three foot to-do list

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Endings and beginnings

Summer cheated on me – it abruptly ended our brief love affair in a fortnight of gray skies and relentless rain.

At the same time, the wee man ended his love affair with breast milk. A few days of fussiness led to a day of complete rejection. I tried one more time and he bit me. My mother-in-law grabbed her own boobs in horror, I gasped like a landed trout and that was the end of that. To top it all off, he had a rare sleepless night and, as I was sharing a room with him at my parents’ house because Rod was in Aberdeen overnight, so did I.

As I trudged downstairs at 7am to make his bottle, I was grumpy as hell – and then I opened the curtains.

Glorious sunshine greeted me, beaming from fresh blue skies. Delighted, I packed him into the pram and headed for the park. It was like summer had to be properly washed away before autumn could assert itself.

The trees are just beginning to turn, there are still colourful wildflowers hiding in amongst the foliage and the ducks seem optimistic. So I will take my cue from them.

I identify with swans - gliding across the water while paddling furiously underneath

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