Tuesday, 1 January 2013

sNOw problem

based in diary extract 19/02/11

I opened the blinds this morning to find thick snow covering our garden. When you have children this is supposed to be fun - unless of course your baby is less than a month old and, being of a sensitive nature, cries when you merely open the fridge door (let alone when you carry him into minus degrees outside). Besides which, our £500 buggy cannot manoeuvre in such conditions. We'd have done better to invest in a sledge and spent the rest of the money on something more practical, like counselling - or, better still, gin. Of course I'm joking, I could never drink that much gin; I'd have to mix it up with a few bottles of pinot (if only it wasn't in my blood stream for his next feed). Though that might help him sleep better... hmmm.
As I was beginning mull over the snow problem (and my slightly worrying cravings for gin), my husband came in and with a look of dismay told me his football had been cancelled. This to a man is like someone telling me I have to give up wine, sleep and socialising, god forbid. Oh no, wait, that's true. I've had so little sleep that I've lost all sense of reality.
Just as I was beginning to think my husband's words were also a figment of my imagination, he repeated them once more and I tried to contain the urge not to do some sort of cartwheel across the bedroom floor. Does this mean I get a day off; a weekend?? So we both shared duties all day like some sort of 'dream team', and Albie has never been more content. He even settled himself to sleep for the first time which was a sheer miracle. This is both a joy and a burden: a joy because it means my life will become easier if he continues to do this, but a burden because Neil is wondering what the hell I'm complaining at the rest of the time. I'm sure I can see a glint in Albie's eye, like he knows he has to put on the 'angel baby' act because Dad's around and I'm left wondering if the hard times were also a figment of my imagination.
It's days like these when I recommend parenting. I've had some of my own time, I've made cups of tea (and got to the bottom of them), we've had a meal together, uninterrupted - no problem. Albie has been very cute all day- I swear he's trying to smile, and Neil has even offered to do one of the night feeds to I could have a break (what a guy). All is rosy in the Maltby household... it's oh so quiet. Reminds me of a Bjork song...


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