The cricket season has started amidst an unseasonably warm spring (more on that here) and we are getting in the swing of the new pattern it brings.
I love being a parent and I love not working at the moment as it means I can spend all my time with Little J. But some days, just some, I feel as though my life is a comedy sketch. Gone are the days of excitedly considering which band/author/theatre company/artist to book for a spangly Festival…I’m more likely to be found considering which play kitchen is really the best value for money and have I booked the dentist? Days like this feel so hyperreal that there’s no point fighting it…
7.30m. Wake up. Grumpy. Andrew returned from a game late the night before. I’m very happy to see him but have clearly been saving up my grumpiness until he got home.
Reminded that Andrew is out for a swanky dinner tonight with a few players and an interesting ‘Sir’ from television. Also reminded that we had decided I wouldn’t go to bank our baby sitting asks for a better opportunity….hmm.
7.45am. LJ wakes up. Yay! Andrew goes to get him and have a play and hello. A few minutes later LJ comes in and throws a golf ball at my head (not altogether unsurprisingly if you know my house). Thinking about getting out of bed now.
8.30am. Breakfast. Andrew eats his. LJ eats his. LJ eats mine.
9.30am. A shower. On my own! Consider staying in it all day.
9.45am. Golf ball bump on head is visible, and I’m sure growing. Slather on foundation as if that’s going to help.
10am. Andrew and LJ troop upstairs. Andrew starts unpacking and LJ starts playing with my nail varnishes.
Andrew comes across my passport and we realise that it has expired. MONTHS ago. I feel a bit depressed by that thought….
10.30am. I soon forget about world travel and get quite into a game of skittles with nail varnishes and the guilty golf ball.
11am. I offer to take LJ out so Andrew can have a nice relaxing bath. What!?
11.10am. I turn to go and it is pointed out that I have bird poo on my bottom. Consider changing my jeans but decide that we’re only playing in the garden so…
11.30am. We are NOT in the garden! LJ fancied a walk around the block to look at the vehicles and see the postbox. I’m hoping no one will notice my bumpy forehead or my bird poo bottom.
Midday. Home. Andrew says I’m sounding more and more like Nanny Plum. I am oddly pleased with this comparison, I imagine her as a bit of a renegade.
12.30pm. Lunchtime. I run through the list of things I need to talk to Andrew about…preschool visits, whether we buy a toddler pillow, do we need window guards, should we move LJ’s bedtime, what am I doing with my life, which swim nappy should we purchase?
1pm – 3pm. LJ’s nap.
Andrew and I sort through all the hand-me-downs we’ve been given for LJ and develop a far-bigger-than-capsule summer wardrobe for him.
Feel an uncharacteristic wave of productivity. Bake the third ever cake I’ve made since LJ was born…nearly two years ago…it’s a banana and prune number.
We drink tea.
Put the washing on, including my bird poo jeans. The washing machine breaks.
3pm. LJ wakes.
We put the wet, but possibly not clean, clothes in the dryer. The tumble dryer breaks. Ah-ha, a conspiracy of white goods!?
3pm to 6pm. Seaside playtime. Feeling a lot less grumpy despite sitting in something else unsavoury, LJ rejecting my banana and prune cake, and me singing the Peppa Pig theme tune ALL afternoon to the point where LJ joins in and I have driven myself and Andrew mad.
6pm. Home. Teatime.
6.30pm. We help Andrew choose his glamorous outfit for the evening. I change into tracksuit bottoms.
7pm. LJ and I wave Andrew off.
I read Wibbly Pig to LJ three times.
8pm. I cook dinner for tonight and dinner for tomorrow and consume a large G&T.
10pm. In bed and reflecting on the day. I decide that it wasn’t as bad as the day a couple of months ago when I accidentally cleaned my teeth in hand wash.
Midnight. Andrew home. I barely wake up.