group hug

feh

Back at work. Don't like it. Want to get Jack and go home now. Forgot to bring chocolate but it doesn't matter because I still can't taste anything. Wah.

the return

Today is my last day of maternity leave. My last day of being a lady of leisure. My last day as a full time mum. My last day as a drain on society*. On the most part, I'm looking forward to returning to work because I really enjoyed my job. That and the fact that our cake Fridays have improved vastly since my departure, so I simply must return for that. On the other hand, it's going to be very, very weird to be without Jack for the entire day. What with all the dribbling, crying, mess, and tantrums that happen at the office, life probably won't be that different.

We met with the cleaning company guy today to get more details and book a thorough spring clean. Part of me feels slightly guilty for getting a cleaner. In my mind, only posh people get cleaners and they get driven around by people called James and send their children off to schools in Switzerland. In reality, several people I know have a cleaner and none of them also employ chauffeurs. I'm the type of person who will clean before the cleaner arrives, so that the cleaner doesn't think badly of me and my slovenly ways. I will refrain from doing this, but I did tidy a bit before the cleaning company guy arrived today. We are getting a very thorough clean before we get a cleaner in weekly, and I'm all agog. The thought of having someone else wipe down the kitchen cupboards, sweep away the metric tons of dog hair, and wash the food splatters off the floor makes me giddy. Most importantly, I didn't want to spend my precious free time with Mr Clean rather than my son.

So it's with a bit of anticipation and a bit of anxiety I return to work tomorrow. I imagine that most of the day will involve remembering passwords and trying to find out who nicked my chair. I will be working on a project called Avon which will make me...yes, you guessed it...the Avon Lady. Here's to being a working girl again and here's hoping I make it through the week without bursting into tears. I will need a lot of hugs and chocolate. And my chair.

*(Not entirely true - my gov't maternity pay ended six months ago.)

a day in the life

If Jack had a day planner...

07.00 - Wake up. Make cute singing sounds intermittently. Cough a few times to attract attention.
07.30 - Make loud crying noises if coughing does not attract sufficient attention.
07.45 - Breakfast. If cream cheese is served, ensure that a thin layer is applied thoroughly to all surfaces and exposed skin. Act surprised when Jasper snaps up any toast I've "dropped".
08.15 - Get dressed. Employ "wriggle and squirm technique" to prevent clothes from being put on successfully. If nappy is dirty, roll and crawl away quickly after it is removed. Alternatively, deploy the pee fountain.
08.30 - Begin daily investigation of the lower floor. Press every button on every machine located near the television and open all DVDs within reach. Ignore toys.
09.00 - Begin dog inspection. Examine dog's eyes with index finger and tug tail to ensure it is firmly secured. Chew on his toys to check flavour and durability.
10.30 - Rub eyes. Insist I am not tired.
10.45 - Continue to rub eyes. Scream in protest if put down for nap. Sleep despite protest.
11.30 - Carry on with ground floor inspection. Open every door and drawer in sideboard and empty cutlery tray. Hit television screen repeatedly. Remove all scatter cushions from sofas. Ignore toys.
12.00 - Lunch. Conduct experiment to verify how many fingers of a tuna sandwich will fit down the sides of highchair. Try to increase this number tomorrow.
12.45 - Place handprints on every glass surface two feet and lower. Lick all surfaces two feet and lower. Chew on sofa.
13.30 - Free time. Usually involves going somewhere fun (soft play centre with my friends) or dull (Tesco). Ensure that all time spent at Tesco involves practicing screamy voice and the game "Give Me Your Pen, Or I'll Have a Hissy Fit".
16.00 - Repeat nap protest from morning. Only fall asleep peacefully when it's not convenient, such as thirty seconds before pulling into the driveway.
16.30 - Re-check buttons in the vicinity of the television. Try to figure out how to dismantle surround sound system and record random programmes with Sky+.
17.30 - Supper. Create artistic sculpture out of bowl contents. (NB: Foods containing mashed potato work best for this.)
18.00 - Use daddy as a stepladder to dive head first off the back of the sofa. Try to acquire daddy's glasses and see if they can be bent into interesting shapes. Cajole daddy with desperately cute facial expressions for a shoulder ride. Ignore toys.
19.00 - Bedtime. If day has been satisfactory, sleep until the following morning. Otherwise, wake every hour on the hour, insisting that it's play time.

I nicked this from The Ex-Neighbour Man ages ago, but only got around to posting it now:

A – Accent: I maintain that it's still Canadian. Canadians and Americans think I'm British. The British think I'm American. I haaaaaaaaaate people with phoney British accents. That's right, I'm looking at YOU, Madge.
B - Breakfast Item: Paul's full English breakfasts or a proper North American diner breakfast with a huge stack of pancakes.
C - Chore you hate: Washing dishes
D - Dad’s Name: Bill
E - Essential everyday item: Kettle
F - Flavour ice cream: Green and Black's vanilla
G - Gold or Silver?: Silver
H - Hometown: Godmanchester
I - Insomnia: No more for me, thanks. We're full.
J - Job Title: Technical author/Baby wrangler
K - Kids: Our amazing Jack-Jack and Beanie coming soon
L - Living arrangements: Me, Paul, Jack, and Jasper
M - Mum’s birthplace: St. Catharine's, Ontario, Canada
N - Number of significant others you’ve had: There hasn't been anyone before Paul. *cough*
O - Overnight hospital stays: 8, plus I'm sure there were a few when I was first born
P - Phobia: I have an irrational fear of monkeys, clowns, nuns, and puppets.
Q - Queer: When my friend Jen and I were going through a string of bad relationships, we wished that we were lesbians so we could give up men completely. Does that count?
R - Religious Affiliation: I was baptised and confirmed in a Protestant church, but I do not follow any particular religion.
S - Siblings: None
T - Time you wake up: 7, unless woken up throughout the night by an unhappy little boy.
U - Unnatural hair colours you’ve had: Blonde, red, blue, green, black, and orange. It was the 80s and I was a fine arts student.
V - Vegetable you refuse to eat: Brussel sprouts and raw celery.
W - Worst habit: Holding a grudge.
X - X-rays you’ve had: Teeth, ankle, and chest.
Y - Yummy: Paul's Sunday roast dinners.
Z - Zodiac sign: Aries

stop the presses!!

Not only did Jack stand up without any help tonight, he took about four steps into the arms of his very excited daddy. I'm so thrilled - and eternally grateful that we both got to witness this milestone, rather than hear it from the day nursery staff.

Proud, proud mummy and daddy. Well done, Jack-Jack!

my kleenex overfloweth

So now this cold has gone from feeling like death with an incredibly sore throat to feeling like near death with a mildly sore throat. My little boy is sleeping on a duvet making noises like gggnnnnzzzzzssssnnnnrrrrk, but at least he's getting some rest. Paul (did I mention how great he is?) got some orange juice ice lollies/popsicles for me the other day to help my throat pain. As I was eating one, Jack stared at it intently, sticking his tongue out hopefully. I gave him a little taste (and he made his "what the sam hell is THAT?" frowny face at first), and then he was hooked. Every time I had a lick, he went "EEEEEEEE!" and pushed his head towards the lolly until we had finished it. That's right, I fed my son something that wasn't organic and contained a bit of sugar.

In a similar vein, I've had to accept the fact that Jack isn't going to be fed quite the same quality of food at the nursery as he is at home. Although they don't feed the kids turkey twizzlers, it does seem to be a diet of pasta bakes, white bread, beans on toast, and other similar dishes. Today, they had what looked like mashed potatoes with bacon in it and (tinned?) spaghetti. I get the impression that the meals tend to be mostly white and starchy. I would never, ever get on my high horse and berate anyone who feeds their kids meals like this, it's just that it's a change in diet for Jack and it makes me feel slightly guilty (added to the guilt about leaving him in a day nursery full stop, but I digress). I've made a conscious effort to cram in all the fruit and veg I can into Jack's diet, make everything from scratch (although of course he's had jars when we've been out and about), give him foods with tons of flavour, and buy organic. I knew he wouldn't get getting organic food at the nursery, but I hoped it would be nutritious. It's only one meal a day and I can ensure he gets a wide variety of foods at home, so I feel like it's a compromise I can make. I suppose it's a compromise I wasn't planning on making until he has to endure school lunches in a few years. It's probably not rational to even worry about stuff like this, but as a new mother, most of my thought processes are devoid of logic anyway.

Smile of the day: Ooh look - it's better than television!