We watched the olympic opening ceremony, this guy was a highlight for me 😉
Yesterday was Leapy’s second birthday, Karl’s fortieth, and Marks company half year party. Bev and Ted kept Squish overnight, so Mark and I had a lovely night. I am slowly getting to know some of his colleagues and their other halves, so the parties are a bit more fun now. Last night was amazing. I met the wife of one of the partners, and we bonded over cracking jokes and drinking cocktails. I solved the problems of the world with a young guy from Melbourne who described his recent Hindu wedding ceremony, and reconnected with Magda from Poland, who apparently was inspired by my story at the last party, and has decided on more study and a career change. I was really touched.
I’ve cooked up a storm, had a great nights sleep, and bought a new kitchen appliance. Life is good.
And I am completely unprepared to start uni tomorrow!
…and a crocodile came and ate it.
Inigo singing in the bath this morning.
I can swallow without painkillers, I can breathe, I can stay awake for more than an hour, and I can eat! I’m not feeling 100%, but after the past few months, 80% feels pretty damn good 🙂
Inigo and I took his paperwork up to school on Wednesday morning, and he is now on the road to being enrolled in big school. His school transition program starts next month, so we are gearing up for a big end of the year, and hopefully he is looking forward to the exciting elements of school rather than the scary ones. We’ve chosen a school that is just a bit further away than our local school, it’s just a bit smaller, a bit more diverse, and it has a school garden program, and no canteen. It’s still in easy cycling distance from home, and we’ve been attending playgroup and other activities there since before Inigo could walk, so he is very familiar with the environment.
I am trying super hard to be upbeat and positive, and not give in to the “he was only born about a week ago, and now I have to give his care over to the state, and he’s still my tiny baby” panic. He is sooo ready for the academic side of school life, and we are doing our best (with the help of his new preschool) to support his social interactions with kids his own age. He has no trouble holding long conversations with adults, but tends to find his peers pretty boring. Since that reminds me so much of me, I do worry, but I also know that we have made good choices for him, and that he will be well supported. And school for him will be worlds away from what I experienced in the mid 1970’s!
Uni is on a break for another week, so all I have to do is look after myself (and avoid getting sick again), and look after my lovely family. A new development that I would like to record for my own recollection is that in the past couple of weeks, bedtime has (touch wood) ceased to be a drama. After my very low point a few weeks ago, I’ve managed to institute a new routine that involves reading a long form story (starting with Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and now James and the Giant Peach), after a few chapters of which he now snuggles in for a cuddle and drifts off to sleep in my arms. I hesitate to say that we have cracked the sleep problem, because it has been the bane of our existence for four and a half years, but the last two weeks have been great. Sleep time is now a time of loving connection and joy rather than a two hour screaming match that leaves everyone emotionally traumatised. Long may it last.
And tomorrow I am having friends over for a crafty morning. Mark has been going out on a Monday evening to follow his crazy hobbies, so I am co-opting Saturday mornings for mine. There is an open invitation to all, so if you are up for a bit of cake nibbling and yarn fondling, do pop over!
Exam is over. Chest infection improving. Sore throat threatening, but I’ll pretend that isn’t happening.
I’ve applied for special consideration for my whole semester of work – hopefully my catalogue of pestilence is enough to melt the right hearts. And hell, even if I do only get a credit for this subject, I’ll know that I worked bloody hard for it, and there is no shame.
Tomorrow I am going to a birthday party for a much loved baby that was still born. Saturday night we’re having dinner with some friends we haven’t seen in ages, and on Sunday we are meeting up with my aunt and taking Inigo to the Norman Lindsay gallery at Springwood where they are having an exhibition about the models. We’ll be able to see lots of pictures of Nanna, and even some rare pencil drawings that we haven’t seen before. It will be a wonderful opportunity for Inigo to connect with a bit of family history.
All activities that seem very normal and healthy – I’m actually a little surprised that I can go back to being a (relatively) normal person after the last 2 months. And the few months before that. And… Well, you get the picture.
Touch wood, no more catastrophes for a while, m’kay?
We had less than ideal conditions for his first piano concert – it’s been four weeks since he’s had regular practice since all of us have been ill, and it was late in the day, with Inigo third last. By the time it was his turn he was jumping out of his skin, so it’s a little wonder he found it hard to concentrate.
But no matter what, I was so proud that he got up and said his name and announced his piece in front of every body – and he got it right, just as my phone ran out of storage, so I missed the end of his performance. But the applause was pretty good 🙂
Which nobody has ever denied. But now we have proof that their cells cross the placenta to colonise the mother.
I carry all my children in my heart. And now I know they are in my lungs too.