Kid lag

Hello. I'm back on the blog. Y'know when I said the blog might be 'intermittent' over the holidays? Well, I lied. Turned out both in order to truly relax and to save my marriage from imminent disaster my unhealthy relationship with the laptop had to go. The Crackberry got less attention than usual, too. I didn't even read a newspaper. This was all to the good and I returned to work this week full of vim and vigour (or something). Only problem was, I'd tuned out so effectively from the 'real world', things seemed slightly surreal on my return. I'd immersed myself completely into that eternal summer holiday vibe that children seem to generate during the long break, where the days seem to go on forever, there's really nothing to rush for, no schedule is required, only fun must be had, and bedtimes retreat to a later and later point each evening. It's taken a couple of days back in the office to remember exactly what is I'm supposed to do there, and exactly why I do it. As a colleague sweetly put it today, "You don't have jet lag, you have 'kid lag'".

Holiday at home

It's day two of my 'holiday at home'. I'm taking two weeks off, but the severe cash crisis caused by one year's worth of reduced (maternity) pay over the last two years is preventing us jetting off somewhere sunny. Thus it's a good job that a bit of sunshine has finally arrived in the UK. It's going to be an interesting experiment, seeing whether 'a change is as good as a rest.' I have this suspicion that spending two weeks at home looking after three children will definitely feel like a change, but almost certainly not feel 'as good as a rest'! We're going to be hanging out around the parks and cafes of south east London, poddling about in the back garden and maybe making a day trip or two to the seaside. Eden (5 1/2) is simply delighted to have me at home. Exotic holidays interest her not one jot. It just about kills me when she exclaims, "That was the best day EVER!', after accompanying me around Sainsburies and then going for a cycle ride in Dulwich Park. Oh, to be so easily pleased again! One thing I've noticed already is how much more I notice the little incremental changes in the kids when I'm hanging out at home with them. Nathan (2 1/2) is really growing into a little tyke; he pushes the boundaries just a little further each day. And quite how he ends each day smeared in mud, covered in poster paint and bedecked with bruises and cuts I really don't know. Ava (11 months now) has somehow managed to sprout six teeth in the course of the last couple of weeks (accompanied by much wailing, pooing and, yes, gnashing of teeth!) and suddenly seems to be attempting to crawl, stand up and talk all at once. The blog may be rather intermittent over the next couple of weeks. I may not be getting much rest, but I'm going to give it a damned good try!

Uuuuuuurgh

Have seen off nits. Hurrah! We are on the alert now, though, in case they return. In triumphant mode, we made the mistake of going out partying on Saturday night. V. stupid. The dancing in the street part was really good fun, but it went downhill from there. Got in 2.30am; got to bed 3.30am; first child woke - having a nightmare - 3.45am; came into bed with us and kicked us alternately in the backs until 4.30am; thereupon second child woke for a bottle and woke third child with the screaming; first child settled back into bed 5am; everyone else back to sleep for an hour, and then.... it was 6am. MORNING! Very, very tired. Something blog-worthy soon, I promise x

Nits cause radio silence

OK, this is going to sound totally pathetic, but the nits have now literally taken over my life. You'll have to excuse the radio silence over the last few days, but blogging simply couldn't compete with lice-killing. The infestation reached magnificent proportions this week as we proved the ultimate closeness of our family by each and every one of us succumbing to the nasty things one by one. Apparently, head lice cannot jump and are only passed from person to person by physical contact between heads. I promise you, even though we do love each other dearly, we really don't spend all our time rubbing our heads together. Nonetheless, the damned things have slithered and crawled their way from head to head, or whatever it is they do. Last night I lost my rag with the daily process of washing, conditioning and combing every single family members' hair on a daily basis. Bedtimes have been receding and mornings getting earlier and earlier to accomodate the processes involved. Time relaxing on the sofa has all but disappeared. Exasperated, I sent Paul out to buy the strongest nit-killing potion he could find. His deeply buried hunter-gatherer instincts exploded into action and he came home heroically bearing several metric tonnes of 'Hedrin', which we applied en masse last night. Having drowned the critters in the stuff, washed everyone's hair this morning (twice), and put every piece of bedding in the house through the wash, we now look forward with eager anticipation to round 2 in a week's time (this is 'critical' according to the instructions, if one is to avoid further 'infestation'). Oh, I also went to work today and did all sorts of stuff between lice-killing sessions. But the lice story just struck me as more entertaining. Or, at least weirder. Thinking about it, maybe I should have thought about another topic.... Hmmm.