Back again...
Aug. 8th, 2005 10:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
radegundWell, I knew it was a while since I'd updated, but I didn't quite grasp that it's been three and a half weeks. Oy. One of my aims in this journal is to keep some kind of record (yes, and Jane...came...by etc.), but obviously when life is happening thick and fast it tends to obliterate whatever free time I have for posting. Sigh.
(Mind you, I've been writing in my paper diary a bit this past while, for the first time in ages, which is a sign of ... something, I suppose. Probably that I'm glum and woebegone. I really miss Morning Pages. I used to do them very regularly indeed, and I found them incredibly helpful. But getting the time to do them these mornings? Ahahaha. It is to laugh.)
* * * * *
Here's a brief run-down of what I've been up to since my last appearance in these parts.
1. My last five-day week for the rest of the year, I fervently hope. That was when I wrote my latest little flurry of posts. The week started out OK, as they tend to, but by Wednesday I was half dead, by Thursday I had begun to gibber feebly, and by Friday I was a squeaking husk. This disintegration was not unconnected with the fact that the hot weather did nothing to improve my darling son's sleeping habits. Our bedroom, with its two long brick walls, was an oven: the thermometer didn't drop below 25°C at all, even with the window open 24 hours, which meant that heat/thirst woke him as often as hunger/habit. At the weekend I declared an official collapse and called in the cavalry, in the shape of Oisín's grandparents. I spent most of the two days lounging on the sofa, trying not to feel guilty for wasting the first gardening opportunity I'd had in ages.
Why a five-day week, you ask? Didn't the four-day week arrangement kick in on 1 July? Why, yes, it did, and well done for paying attention. Biscuits all around. I did a five day week so that I could work three days the following week without loss of leave, taking two days off for...
2. The long-awaited visit of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ailbhe and her fabulous daughter, Linnea - which was really, really great! Tiring, yes, but also the most fun I've had in ages. We had one very active day, with lunching in town and browsing in bookshops and public breastfeeding and Oisín's very first trip on Dublin Bus (not an experience I'm keen to repeat) and some relatively intricate grocery shopping, and one much quieter day, where the babies napped a lot and Ailbhe and I did some recovering. Oisín and Linnea were most intrigued with each other. They stole each other's toys, patted each other experimentally, and developed a great game involving vigorous arm-waving and shouting. The visit, moreover, featured more or less non-stop conversation between Ailbhe and me, including Late-Night Girly Chats, which was refreshing and lovely.
I also had a talk with my boss wherein I explained that something approaching a meltdown was imminent what with the lack of sleep. On her suggestion, therefore, the week before last included two days of...
3. Working from home. This I love, and I rarely get to do it because my August Employer is on the whole rather wary of non-traditional work practices. However, it was my boss's immediate suggestion for dealing with my current sleep crisis, and it looks as though I may be able to keep doing it for a while. It's a small change, in some ways, because I worked exactly the same hours as I would have if I'd gone to the office, but somehow the fact of being at home lifted an amazing amount of pressure off me, and I felt unexpectedly serene and accomplished at the end of each day.
The serenity was somewhat mitigated, I must say, by...
4. Two mishaps. First, there was the bit where Niall was driving home from his mother's late at night and got a flat tyre on the motorway, whereupon he discovered that our spare tyre was also flat. Roll on the RAC, which (through its representative on earth) hoisted him home, where waited the Radzer, reclining on the sofa with HP6 in a comic exaggeration of leisurely indolence. Second, there was the bit where, emboldened by culinary adventures the previous week, we fed the Oyster some morsels off our dinner plates. He sucked them down with every appearance of relish and demanded (and got) more, which was somewhat surprising as we hadn't really expected him to like curried mushrooms. Cue paroxysms of inconsolable yelling and writhing from about 21:30 to 23:30, culminating in a calm, almost spiritual regurgitation all over himself, me and the sofa. That was fun.
Friday before last was my day off, but I spent the entire day in...
5. A frenzy of packing and associated ventures. The day included such divers elements as picking up our new spare tyre from the garage; hastily spending some wedding vouchers that were going to expire while we were on holiday; visiting the creche to feed Oisín; buying essentials including a swimming nappy, some pretty shoes (closed-toe and thus compatible with the thrice-damnèd support stockings) , Sheridan's goodness for my lunatic father, who suddenly affects to prefer Irish to French cheeses, Calpol, organic spoo, etc.; packpackpackpackpacking; fretfretfretfretfretting; doggedly crossing things off on my mammoth, multi-tabbed Excel holiday spreadsheet (because in my current state of mind, if it's not inscribed somewhere it's not going to get remembered); watering the houseplants; and dishwashing the kitchen compost bin in an effort to avoid coming home to an infestation of fruit flies (don't ask me how I knew this was a risk) - all very fascinating and enriching activities, as I know you'll agree.
I worked pretty solidly from 8:30 until 0:30, taking short breaks for lunch, dinner and a few (timed) fifteen-minute collapses, and damn it, I got everything done. This meant that we were able to rise at 5:00, do last-minute packing, put the bins out, eat minimal breakfast, rouse the sleeping baba and set off for Dublin Airport at 5:40, bound for...
6. Our French holiday. We joined my parents and some family friends in the gîte they'd rented in the Indre, not far from Poitiers. My grandmother also came (aided on the journey by my sister), which made it a four-generation holiday.
With two intermittently wheeled people (my grandmother is finding it more and more difficult to walk, so they hired a wheelchair for her) and eight opinionated adults, expeditions were quite a production, but they were nonetheless undertaken. We tended to mooch around medieval towns or Carolingian churches of a morning, and then lounge at the on-site swimming pool in the afternoon.
In the interstices we ate magnificently, and introduced Oisín to such joys as French bread, couscous with ratatouille (a big hit), and blackcurrant ice-cream. Yum. Perhaps best of all, my parents kidnapped their grandson at night, bringing him to me for a feed when he wanted it. I got more of a rest than I'd had since before we went to Kerry, and I feel much the better for it.
The bit where I fell down the steep, smooth oak stairs and acquired a fine array of bruises and scrapes wasn't so good. The bit where Oisín discovered splashing in the swimming pool was pretty excellent. Catching up with my sister was lovely. Being on holidays with people who understand what my life is like at the moment was ... a priceless respite, really.
* * * * *
Today was my first day back at work, and it wasn't too bad, all things considered. The next four weeks are looking perhaps alarmingly social, what with houseguests, three family birthdays (including the Oyster's, in TWO WEEKS howdidthathappen???) and two weddings. Plus work. Plus an attempt to implement some of the suggestions put forth in The No-Cry Sleep Solution. (It's a plausible read, and I'm hopeful that it may work, but I must state for the record that a woman who knowingly allows her defenceless baby son to be named Coleton Pantley - I wish I was joking - has got to be at least mildly suspect...)
There was a delicious hint of mist, a whiff of a chill in the air on Saturday night when I went out to get butter. I may love the turn from summer to autumn best of all.
(Mind you, I've been writing in my paper diary a bit this past while, for the first time in ages, which is a sign of ... something, I suppose. Probably that I'm glum and woebegone. I really miss Morning Pages. I used to do them very regularly indeed, and I found them incredibly helpful. But getting the time to do them these mornings? Ahahaha. It is to laugh.)
* * * * *
Here's a brief run-down of what I've been up to since my last appearance in these parts.
1. My last five-day week for the rest of the year, I fervently hope. That was when I wrote my latest little flurry of posts. The week started out OK, as they tend to, but by Wednesday I was half dead, by Thursday I had begun to gibber feebly, and by Friday I was a squeaking husk. This disintegration was not unconnected with the fact that the hot weather did nothing to improve my darling son's sleeping habits. Our bedroom, with its two long brick walls, was an oven: the thermometer didn't drop below 25°C at all, even with the window open 24 hours, which meant that heat/thirst woke him as often as hunger/habit. At the weekend I declared an official collapse and called in the cavalry, in the shape of Oisín's grandparents. I spent most of the two days lounging on the sofa, trying not to feel guilty for wasting the first gardening opportunity I'd had in ages.
Why a five-day week, you ask? Didn't the four-day week arrangement kick in on 1 July? Why, yes, it did, and well done for paying attention. Biscuits all around. I did a five day week so that I could work three days the following week without loss of leave, taking two days off for...
2. The long-awaited visit of
ailbhe and her fabulous daughter, Linnea - which was really, really great! Tiring, yes, but also the most fun I've had in ages. We had one very active day, with lunching in town and browsing in bookshops and public breastfeeding and Oisín's very first trip on Dublin Bus (not an experience I'm keen to repeat) and some relatively intricate grocery shopping, and one much quieter day, where the babies napped a lot and Ailbhe and I did some recovering. Oisín and Linnea were most intrigued with each other. They stole each other's toys, patted each other experimentally, and developed a great game involving vigorous arm-waving and shouting. The visit, moreover, featured more or less non-stop conversation between Ailbhe and me, including Late-Night Girly Chats, which was refreshing and lovely.I also had a talk with my boss wherein I explained that something approaching a meltdown was imminent what with the lack of sleep. On her suggestion, therefore, the week before last included two days of...
3. Working from home. This I love, and I rarely get to do it because my August Employer is on the whole rather wary of non-traditional work practices. However, it was my boss's immediate suggestion for dealing with my current sleep crisis, and it looks as though I may be able to keep doing it for a while. It's a small change, in some ways, because I worked exactly the same hours as I would have if I'd gone to the office, but somehow the fact of being at home lifted an amazing amount of pressure off me, and I felt unexpectedly serene and accomplished at the end of each day.
The serenity was somewhat mitigated, I must say, by...
4. Two mishaps. First, there was the bit where Niall was driving home from his mother's late at night and got a flat tyre on the motorway, whereupon he discovered that our spare tyre was also flat. Roll on the RAC, which (through its representative on earth) hoisted him home, where waited the Radzer, reclining on the sofa with HP6 in a comic exaggeration of leisurely indolence. Second, there was the bit where, emboldened by culinary adventures the previous week, we fed the Oyster some morsels off our dinner plates. He sucked them down with every appearance of relish and demanded (and got) more, which was somewhat surprising as we hadn't really expected him to like curried mushrooms. Cue paroxysms of inconsolable yelling and writhing from about 21:30 to 23:30, culminating in a calm, almost spiritual regurgitation all over himself, me and the sofa. That was fun.
Friday before last was my day off, but I spent the entire day in...
5. A frenzy of packing and associated ventures. The day included such divers elements as picking up our new spare tyre from the garage; hastily spending some wedding vouchers that were going to expire while we were on holiday; visiting the creche to feed Oisín; buying essentials including a swimming nappy, some pretty shoes (closed-toe and thus compatible with the thrice-damnèd support stockings) , Sheridan's goodness for my lunatic father, who suddenly affects to prefer Irish to French cheeses, Calpol, organic spoo, etc.; packpackpackpackpacking; fretfretfretfretfretting; doggedly crossing things off on my mammoth, multi-tabbed Excel holiday spreadsheet (because in my current state of mind, if it's not inscribed somewhere it's not going to get remembered); watering the houseplants; and dishwashing the kitchen compost bin in an effort to avoid coming home to an infestation of fruit flies (don't ask me how I knew this was a risk) - all very fascinating and enriching activities, as I know you'll agree.
I worked pretty solidly from 8:30 until 0:30, taking short breaks for lunch, dinner and a few (timed) fifteen-minute collapses, and damn it, I got everything done. This meant that we were able to rise at 5:00, do last-minute packing, put the bins out, eat minimal breakfast, rouse the sleeping baba and set off for Dublin Airport at 5:40, bound for...
6. Our French holiday. We joined my parents and some family friends in the gîte they'd rented in the Indre, not far from Poitiers. My grandmother also came (aided on the journey by my sister), which made it a four-generation holiday.
With two intermittently wheeled people (my grandmother is finding it more and more difficult to walk, so they hired a wheelchair for her) and eight opinionated adults, expeditions were quite a production, but they were nonetheless undertaken. We tended to mooch around medieval towns or Carolingian churches of a morning, and then lounge at the on-site swimming pool in the afternoon.
In the interstices we ate magnificently, and introduced Oisín to such joys as French bread, couscous with ratatouille (a big hit), and blackcurrant ice-cream. Yum. Perhaps best of all, my parents kidnapped their grandson at night, bringing him to me for a feed when he wanted it. I got more of a rest than I'd had since before we went to Kerry, and I feel much the better for it.
The bit where I fell down the steep, smooth oak stairs and acquired a fine array of bruises and scrapes wasn't so good. The bit where Oisín discovered splashing in the swimming pool was pretty excellent. Catching up with my sister was lovely. Being on holidays with people who understand what my life is like at the moment was ... a priceless respite, really.
* * * * *
Today was my first day back at work, and it wasn't too bad, all things considered. The next four weeks are looking perhaps alarmingly social, what with houseguests, three family birthdays (including the Oyster's, in TWO WEEKS howdidthathappen???) and two weddings. Plus work. Plus an attempt to implement some of the suggestions put forth in The No-Cry Sleep Solution. (It's a plausible read, and I'm hopeful that it may work, but I must state for the record that a woman who knowingly allows her defenceless baby son to be named Coleton Pantley - I wish I was joking - has got to be at least mildly suspect...)
There was a delicious hint of mist, a whiff of a chill in the air on Saturday night when I went out to get butter. I may love the turn from summer to autumn best of all.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-09 08:44 am (UTC)hxxx
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-09 01:53 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-09 08:58 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-09 01:54 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-09 09:05 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-09 01:55 pm (UTC)I like the book, because it does not say, "I know what is best for your child. You don't. Go and stand in the corner, and come back when you are ready to OBEY ME!"
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-09 09:47 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-09 09:56 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-11 12:50 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-09 02:01 pm (UTC)It'll be great to see you. Are you staying for a few days, at all?
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-09 03:03 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-09 03:21 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-09 11:03 am (UTC)Glad to hear that your holiday was so lovely and restful (er, apart from the falling down the stairs bit, of course).
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-09 02:02 pm (UTC)It was lovely. And even the falling down the stairs bit wasn't too bad, given that I did no serious damage. I did wake the baby up with my howl on impact, though, which was infuriating as I'd just got him to sleep... :-)
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-09 02:54 pm (UTC)I mean, you're all welcome to visit us, and we even have the space to put ye, but I think I have more travel time available than ANYONE, so... Plus it was fabulous fun and deserves to be done when I'm not terminally exhausted from three weeks of Linnea in a not-childproofed house with sisters who ask "Why don't you make her go to sleep?" and so on.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-09 03:20 pm (UTC)Also, one day we will make it Across the Water. We have enough people to visit in the Londonish region, after all.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-20 10:21 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-22 08:55 am (UTC)