Life

07.02.12.

Further to yesterday's posts, I still feel lucky and very privileged, but I am also flippin' exhausted - and so is the boy. This was Dexter at six thirty this morning. He didn't actually wake up to be fed. He is currently full of snot, a little unsettled at night and sporting a couple of whopping zits. Again, the old guilt rears its ugly head, as I'm not sure one so small should have such a long daily commute, and lengthy time away from home - nor Dexter. But alas, if he wants food and shelter (dramatic but true), Daddy and Mummy must work.

Today was alright. The 'Huffle Shuffle' was even more perilous today - I half expected Torvill and Dean to be pirouetting through the car park - and break duty involved standing outside with the (much hardier) PE teachers 'preventing' kids from throwing snowballs. Hmmm...

I ended up discussing my blog after school with one of the aforementioned (male) PE teachers. I don't know if he'll end up having a look, but it's interesting to me to think about a potential audience. I did think it may be limited to friends and family, especially those who know Dexter, but this particular colleague had been very curious about birth stories a couple of weeks ago too!

Maybe just life is interesting - the human condition, the ups and downs, the comedy and the drama. It's partly why I love my subject and the power of literature to deal with universal themes.

I think sheer tiredness is rendering me too pensive and reflective. It's half-term next week, so hopefully I'll be able to document tales of bonkers soft-play centres, and not getting dressed until midday. Roll on Friday...

The Little Things

06.02.12.

Today was a funny old day. The apocalyptic snow, much hoped for by the majority of my teaching colleagues, wasn't quite enough to herald a magical 'snow-day'. It was however, enough to make the journey in a little longer and a little more hairy than usual. Fortunately Dexter and I were in the safe hands of the lift-share ladies. The nursery drop-off was a tad kamikaze and we arrived at school on the bell.

Lessons were generally quiet and calm, and the day ended with a celebration event for a colleague who very sadly passed away a couple of weeks ago. It was well-attended by current and former staff and students. Although it was an upbeat and uplifting tribute to a magnificent lady, I bawled for the whole hour and a quarter.

I've always been easily moved to tears (sporting achievements, baby animals, John Lewis adverts), but since having the boy, I cry at the drop of a proverbial hat. I don't know if it's hormones, a weird 'mum' thing or just sheer knackeredness at the whole juggling act that is life, but I regularly find myself having a good old-fashioned cathartic weep.

I took part in the celebration, and spoke a few words about said colleague. I love a bit of public speaking, and am not normally phased or emotional. I lost it however when reminiscing about the kindness this lady (mother of three boys) had shown me during my pregnancy. These 'pet babies' certainly know how to tug at the heartstrings.

I guess today's picture reflects a little moment of normality - of my boys happily bonding over a 'Microsoft Sales Specialist Assessment' (no wonder Dexter's looking pleadingly at me) - just before the bedtime routine.

I am not smug mum, I am simply grateful for the little things, and probably should remember that more often.

The Grumps

05.02.12.

Today a serious case of 'the grumps' hit Wayne Towers. Overnight, it sort of snowed: a lame, half-hearted, slushy sort of snow that seemed to be worse out in the countryside beyond Brighton. This prevented me from going to my beloved weekly riding lesson. It also made getting out of bed and getting dressed rather uninviting.

Boy has the boy been grumpy today. Dexter is usually a laid-back, content little man, but the combination of another cold and presumably some teething, rendered him very whiny indeed. He may also be sulking over the scalping he received yesterday...

The washing mountain is out of control and our cleaner has been out of action for a while too - hey, we both work full-time, I've got a cleaner: bite me. The house needs sorting, but that sort of stuff is just, well, dull, particularly with a temperamental tot in tow.

Fortunately, some dear friends have just had their second baby and were up for visitors, so to ward off the cabin fever that was setting in, we wrapped up warm and trundled off for cuddles with the gorgeous newborn. Nothing like a brand-new baby in the world to bring a smile to your face.

Today's picture captures Dexter on the way home. He still looks a tad miserable, and the flash from my phone makes it look like he's been at the Ready-Brek. An Annabel Karmel ready-meal lasagne perked him up, and I got down to some marking.

The rubbish snow has pretty much melted away now - as have the grumps. Tomorrow, after all, is a new day - and only a week until half term.

Hairy Moment

04.02.12.

We took Dexter for his first haircut today. We dragged him out in the freezing cold to the far end of Hove, to a salon that opened a couple of months ago, specialising in cutting little 'uns' hair. It's his birthday next week and I didn't want him turning up at his party bearing a striking resemblance to stadium rock legend, Jon Bon Jovi. Dexter was born with a mullet which has got increasingly out of control ever since.

On arrival, the boy was placed in a racing car seat in front of a tv screen which I think was showing 'Gnomeo and Juliet' - ah, the cultural highs. He was robed up in a garish gown which cleverly had no arm holes in it for small people to attempt any sort of escape from and to keep their fingers away from very sharp scissors. The guy cutting his hair asked us what style we wanted to go for - er, just your basic (soon to be) one-year old cut, thanks - and the snipping began.

 
A very sleepy Dexter was very well-behaved. He had his photo taken and received a bag containing his locks that had been swept from the floor (at least I assume they are his), and a certificate containing some questionable grammatical errors.

Dexter is no longer cursed with an annoying fringe that dangles in his eyes, or two 'hair handlebars' at the back.

The husband thinks he looks like Jim Carrey in 'Dumb and Dumber'.

Thank Crunchie!

03.02.12.

Ah, Friday, glorious Friday: end of the working week and start of the much-needed weekend. The afore-mentioned work lift-share (which keeps me sane), has a weekly tradition of stopping off on the way to school at a local garage-based Costa Coffee. The formidable, and lovely Pat, who runs the joint, knows us all by name and our weekly order has become a tacit necessity. She also makes the strongest latte outside of Milan, and so I usually arrive at school wired to the mains - brilliant.

Another glorious Friday tradition is leaving earlier than usual and doing the 'Huffle-Shuffle'/nursery pick-up at four instead of five o'clock. This leaves time occasionally to behave like 'normal people' ie. not teachers, and visit shops for example, unhindered by the weekend crowds. So, today, my lovely friend and I hot-footed it to Holmbush Retail Park to visit those old shopping stalwarts that are M&S and Next. I needed to spend half of my wages on birthday gifts and new-baby pressies, and dear friend and I can never miss an opportunity to visit Starbucks. I love Starbucks unashamedly (I also like trendy, indie coffee shops filled with seating made out of old hessian sacks), and a grande, skinny, chai tea latte, no water, extra hot, is my beverage of choice.

I spent a vast amount of my maternity leave frequenting one of Brighton's many SBs, but the boy was then, of course, a much tinier, much less mobile and more 'strapped in' pet baby.

Today, he lounged out in a highchair, ate/dropped on the floor a cheese and ham toastie, and had his first 'babyccino' - a shot of steamed and frothy milk in an espresso cup. He was a little unsure at first about all of the foam, but was soon guzzling down the contents of the tiny cup with great gusto.

A proud moment indeed.

Chat Room

02.02.12.

Today I had to think a lot about words. I often have to ask teenagers to think about what they are saying or how they are saying it, and today was no exception. I also led a sixth form assembly on the power and misuse of certain words in a bid to get them to reflect on how they use language. And of course, I'm an English teacher; I bloomin' love words - their power, their flexibility, their key role in communication.

Today's #366 picture was taken of Dexter post-bath (hanging out in a vest, onesie and dressing gown), whilst 'babbling' away to/at me for ages. This week, the husband and I have noticed a real shift in the boy's language acquisition. He has moved beyond the constant repetition of 'mama' to different sounds, phonemes, vowels, consonants and plosives. You can almost hear the stringing together of very primitive 'sentences', and boy, does the boy like to chat.

Unlike the mirror fixation, for this, I entirely blame his mother.

Nursery Report

01.02.12.

First day of a new month, and today's slightly bizarre photo was taken at nursery. Dexter is on the lap of the lovely Bronwyn, demonstrating his love of being jiggled and joggled(?) around, whilst simultaneously being semi-upside down.

I have mentioned nursery a lot in different contexts. The twice-daily visit usually involves a drive-by roll-out very early in the morning, when Dexter is virtually launched like a human rugby ball at any willing 'player' (member of staff) who can take him, as I am inevitably running late. Most days, I lift-share with friends, so the pick-up is equally hurried so as not to hold anyone else up. Today, however, circumstance dictated that I had driven the boy myself and had the luxury of hanging around at collection time.

I had a pleasurable time catching up with the brilliant young ladies who work there, most of whom are alumni of the school I work at. I also had to fill in a comment on Dexter's eleven month 'report card'. It was lovely - more detailed than anything I've ever had to write about the teenagers in my care. The essence of it was that Dexter is a happy, well-adjusted, sociable little chap, who likes to smile, interact and play. Alarmingly, he has some 'targets' to be working on. Slack mummy has got to get cracking on: teaching him actual words; getting him to use a spoon independently (rather than hold his arms out like wings and open his mouth like a beak when he wants to be fed); and building a 'tower' composed of at least two blocks.

He's got until his twenty-six month review to achieve these milestones, so I think we'll opt for the proverbial tortoise-like approach: slow and steady gets there in the end.