Last week was one of those weeks. The ones where you can’t do much other than surrender to life and its mysterious workings, and hope that you don’t end up singing that Des’ree song that rhymes ‘ghost’ with ‘toast’.
I’d had very high hopes for last week.
Going into the week, I felt like I was starting to get a bit of momentum with my writing, finally.
I was getting a bit ahead of myself at last, creating a bit of breathing space that would allow me to look at the other parts of my blog/business that I’ve so far neglected because I haven’t had the headspace for them.
I was excited to crack on.
Tuesday was almost going to be a ‘spare’ work day for me, because I’d got ahead of myself enough that I could use it for ‘business development’, if we’re going to be knobby about it.
I was excited to see what I could make happen.
And then…. My mum wasn’t feeling well on Tuesday, and so Tuesday ended up being a Ted day and not a work day. Fine, no big deal.
We went to a new playgroup and watched Numberblocks on repeat and had a nice time.
I felt a bit gutted that my ‘spare’ day had vanished into thin air but told myself off for being a brat. It was only one day, and I’m beyond grateful for the time my parents normally give me, to work and to have some time off from Ted duties.
I would crack on on Thursday morning instead.
Except on Wednesday night Ted wasn’t himself, and had a bad night’s sleep, and was still under the weather on Thursday. So no work time on Thursday either.
Friday morning he seemed better; I have never been so pleased to see him emptying the kitchen cupboards and decorating the dining room floor with packets of noodles.
He went to mum and dad’s for a few hours while I made the tiniest bit of progress and wrestled with my old pals self-doubt and procrastination.
And then Ted came home early because he still wasn’t 100% and I finally surrendered to this thing called life (Let’s Go Crazy now firmly lodged in my head; PRINCE 4EVA). And I wrote off the cacky old week and ate curry.
I’ll put my little violins away now. Because if we go back to the Prince lyric – and it should always be Prince lyrics and never Des’ree lyrics – the beautiful purple one got it TOTALLY wrong with ‘electric word life, it means FOREVER and that’s a mighty long time.’
Because it’s really not.
So I’m trying to say sod you to the life ‘curveballs’ (hate that word) and I am remembering that I am lucky.
Anyway, that’s been my life, how’s yours?!
We can rejoice that it is no longer January – hurrah – and I am rejoicing because I went out for a burger on Thursday night and had a pretty delicious takeaway curry last night.
AND, I can’t believe I’ve not mentioned this sooner, but the MAJOR NEWS of the last couple of weeks is that TED STARTED SLEEPING THROUGH THE NIGHT.
The shine of this momentous milestone had been dimmed slightly by the last few nights, which have been pretty rotten again. What a blimmin’ shame.
But even before Ted’s illness, I was unable to get over-excited about the sleep situation.
Because it was SO GODDAMN GOOD that I don’t think I could quite believe it was happening.
I might write about the details in a separate post, but – in a nutshell – we had one night a few weeks ago where I’d decided I wouldn’t go in to feed Ted, and sent Graham in to settle him instead.
Ted didn’t like it, obviously, but his reaction wasn’t anywhere near as bad as I feared, and the following night he was even less bothered. And then the third night HE DIDN’T WAKE UP ONCE DURING THE NIGHT. Nor the night after that, nor the night after that. Repeat for two blissful weeks.
Or rather, they would have been blissful if I hadn’t developed 2am insomnia as a result of 19 months of sh*te sleep. Drat.
Obviously now we are keeping everything crossed that we can return to this wondrousness – minus the 2am insomnia – once Ted is back to full health. Pleeeeeaaaaaase sleep gods, be kind.
Mainly though, we of course want Ted to feel better again. My bratty whinge at the start of this update, about not getting any work time, detracts from just how horrid it is to have an ill child, and how we’ve been so lucky – touch wood – that Ted’s generally been in great health, until now.
It’s almost as if he turned 18 months and suddenly began picking up every bug and ailment going. Is this what we have to get used to now?! I wonder if I was too smug for having a child who was never sick! I’m not sure what this latest thing is – and touch wood, this morning he seems to be doing much better – but hopefully he’s on the mend.
I’ll finish with a little positive update on Ted’s speech, which is blimmin’ hilarious. He still doesn’t say mummy or daddy, hi or bye but has somehow managed to learn how to count to at least 10, sometimes to 16 (?).
My favourite number is ‘seborrrrr’ (7, of course) – I apologise for sharing that but I want to record it and remember it forever. When in fact I’ve simply recorded myself being one of those sadsacks who shares the uninteresting minutiae of their kid’s development, a bit like those people who tell you about their dreams in great detail. Oh well! *Stay tuned for my next blog post: My Best Dreams – January 2019 edition*
Bye for now x