Tuesday, 31 March 2015

Medicine, Milk, Marathons and Mischief (11 weeks + 1 day)

Originally posted: 28/05/14

So then... big news of the week: It was Rob who pushed Tina! :O

Seriously, that has probably been the big news of the week. Not a lot has been happening baby-wise or mummy-wise. Not that I can think of anyway... I've definitely still got residual baby brain. (Seriously, it needs to clear up soon.)

I've spent the majority of today trying to make Piglet laugh. She's very smiley and very vocal and so close to laughing, but she's just not quite there. Cue lots of googling "how to make your baby laugh". Which returns results like "blow raspberries on her feet". Actually spent about half an hour doing that. All that resulted was I had a very alarmed looking baby who clearly thought I'd lost my mind (maybe I have...?) And still no laughter. I guess I'm just going to have to be patient.

All her new hair has properly come through now. She still looks a little like Friar Tuck because of the colour difference between the new and the old hair. Nowhere near as much as she did before with her bald patch though. (Poor Wiggles. I'm a terrible mother. Really shouldn't be saying these things about my baby. She's beautiful, even if she does look like a balding middle-aged man <3) In other head-related news, I've discovered that she hates headbands even more than she hates hats. Clearly head accessories are a big no-no.

Reports from Mummy's life... Passed my driving theory test (Thank GOODNESS). Considering that I'd passed it last time, it would have been very embarrassing if I'd failed it. I've got an interview for a hospital volunteering placement, and I attended an open day for another. Which was really interesting actually. I'm really looking forward to starting. I've also fallen in love with Jillian Michaels. Seriously, my abs have never been so good. Love you Jillian, Jillian you are a Goddess, marry me Jillian. And we've got less than a month to go until our half-marathon, which I am VERY nervous about. I want to complete it in under two hours. Which may be a little optimistic. We will have to wait and see!

Monday, 30 March 2015

Welcome To Pseudo-life Or The Tale Of "I Used To Be A Knob" (1 year + 2 weeks + 5 days)

I've got a lot that I want to say in this post, combined with a plethora of things that need doing, so I'm going to fire this one off, and hope that it's nice ("hope that it's nice"? Well, that's awful already. Starting as I mean to go on!)

Firstly: regular visitors to this site will notice that there has been a minor change. My name has been omitted. As has Piglet's. And I am now writing under a pseudonym (which I have my mummy to thank for- Bridget Bones, in case you missed it. My mummy is the brains behind the operation really. Also, personally, I think I should be Bridget Beefcake because I am number one muscle man....doesn't quite have the same ring to it though?). There is reasoning behind this (obviously...). I had discussed becoming anonymous previously. And there is one main reason why I didn't- which I can now share with you. 

Around Christmas, Piglet and I did some filming with Channel 4 for a program which is being aired currently. I mention all the time that for me to have any chance of a future career that I enjoy, I need money. If I had been successful in my medicine application, I needed money for tuition fees. If I am to do a PhD, I need money for Piglet's nursery fees. By not being anonymous, there was the ever, ever, ever so slight possibility, that some stupidly rich person could see us on Channel 4, have a cheeky google, stumble on this blog, and potentially sponsor me for medicine/PhD. It was a slight chance- but it was a chance all the same. My life has been full of slight chances and impossible probabilities, and it's not totally unheard of. 

HOWEVER. Channel 4 called me an hour before my medicine interview and told me that they weren't going to be using us, as we didn't "fit the story". Which- to be perfectly honest- is probably for the best. It does mean though, that my slight chance was effectively killed. And, reevaluating the situation- it benefits me massively to be anonymous. If you google me, this blog appears (hopefully it doesn't now). If I apply for your job, you will most likely google me. If I apply for your PhD, you will most likely google me. And, whilst I think that generally I come across as ok (except for the occasional crazy psychopath post, of course), I'm starting to realise that everything I see as a positive about myself, others will see as baggage. I look at where I am now, and I think that I've overcome so many obstacles, and grown so much as a person, and to me, my blog says that I'm strong. I can deal with things. But I can appreciate how it can be seen in the alternative light aswell. I am a lone parent (sounds so much better than single mother). I don't live near any relatives. I...probably come across as a little unstable and flighty (which I am- fundamentally, I am very very flighty. That is me). So, eliminating our names, eliminates people's possible preconceptions about me. I do not want my blog to be hindering me in any way.

Right, now that's done. On to the first thing- which I know you're all dying to hear about- child maintenance! Was paid on the 26th. Thank you Mr Dickhead. However, it was not for the amount that I should have received- it was for the old calculation. But, thank you again, because this means that child maintenance are proceeding with setting up Collect and Pay for me. They also called and said he owes me over £400 in arrears, which is fab too. He is ignoring them and refusing to answer'return their calls/ respond to their letters. Pretty standard. But whatever. It's going the way that I want it to, so it's fine. 

Next up: I've started a new job- which I mentioned last post- more on this later. It's bar work, so obviously is evenings and weekends; hence, I've had to get a babysitter for Piglet. Now, the girl who I've had watching her this week was literally just emergency babysitting. I had the interview last Monday, was offered the job two hours after I left, and they wanted me to start on Wednesday: mad sprint to find childcare. It has been an education, to say the least. I have been interviewing other people throughout the week to find her replacement- and it was pretty obvious after the first shift that I would be replacing her. Don't get me wrong, she was great with Piglet. But...I'm a bit of a funny bitch. So, let's just run through a quick do's and don'ts list of being my babysitter:

1) Don't charge me £5 an hour
I'm making £6.50. What is the point in me working?

2) Also don't charge me for taxi fares if you stay later than 11pm
...I know where you live, it's like really close. You don't even need a taxi!

3) Don't be late. Especially on your first day

4) Don't try and charge me for the time you weren't here because you were late, and the time you stayed afterwards when you were talking to me
It's almost midnight, I smell of beer and men, I just want my scrambled eggs and my bed!

5) Don't ask for money for shifts that you haven't done yet
Yeah, This happened. Four times? I think? Yeah four times. Even when I said no.

6) Don't "sort out" my packing, and then subtly drop into conversation things that you have read in letters that you've found
I thought it was a nice gesture until she started making remarks. Obviously having a good nose around.

7) Don't, and I mean DON'T eat all of my peanut butter
An entire jar in one day, I kid you not, and she ate the expensive one even though there was an Asda one open at the front. Also mentioned that she'd been eating Piglet's rusks. Fuming. I didn't even say you could eat my food! And at the rate you were charging me, BUY YOUR OWN BLOODY FOOD!

New babysitter starts officially on Wednesday, but I'm having her round tomorrow night to go through everything with her, and essentially "train" her with Piglet. I'm hoping I'm not going to have to redo the entire process again in a week (am hiding my peanut butter this time aswell).

So, back to job. Yes, so, bar work. There is one main reason why I have got a job, and I've touched on it already. If I want to do a PhD, there is no funding for childcare. However, if I have a job, I can claim tax credits for Piglet's childcare. Obviously, I can't do this at the moment, because nursery is currently funded by Student Finance, but once Summer kicks in, nursery will be funded by tax credits. I can then financially afford to do a PhD. I wanted to get this sorted now, so that I wasn't scrambling to find something in May/June when money for nursery was running out- I didn't want to be in a desperate position. It does mean that I have added to my already hectic schedule, but it is necessary if I wish to continue with the current plan. It also means that I have less time with Piglet. Which is tough. But it means that I appreciate the time I do have with her so much more. And it's just for a short while. It's for us both, really. 

Anyway, (before I become a sobbing mess), work is fine. First shift, I honestly had no idea how I'd ever done it before- everything seemed totally alien, and I hadn't got a clue. Third shift, I was practically running the bar. It's weird how quickly things come back to you. It's mainly girls....which is fine. There's a couple who are really nice. There's a few who don't like me. To the extent that one of the locals picked up on it ("Ignore the wicked witch of the west"). But that's fine. Because I get that they won't like me- I'm the new girl. I've been on the other side; I know what it is to not like the new girl. There's one who really reminds me of how I used to be. Like, literally the spit of me. Told me she was Queen Bee. Bit of a warning. And it's funny really, because I'm not there to step on anyone's toes; I don't want anyone's crown; I just want some money. The past 18 months have been a huge learning curve for me. Seriously, like more than I could ever imagine. And it was only when I was faced with this former version of me that I realised how far I've come. And how much of a knob I used to be (total, utter knob).

I just want to finish with this last point. So I went for breakfast at Wetherspoons this morning ("Bones, if you're so busy, how do you have time to go out for breakfast, eh?" Shut up, I wanted eggs royale- no hollandaise sauce please) and bought some papers to read (very leisurely morning. Why am I letting myself have such a chilled morning?!). Now, I'm an Independent reader, but I got the Mail aswell (for the puzzles- not for their stupid scaremongering). Anyway, in there, it had a story about Angelina Jolie (my idol number 73) and it contained this, where she is talking about her mum:

"Angelina said in an emotional 2011 TV interview: 'I will never be as good a mother as she was. I will try my best, but I don't think I ever will be.'"

I have never identified with something so much in my life.

P.S I haven't given Boris and Jeremy pseudonyms, because they can totally cope with the massive fame that they have from here

P.P.S Really really hope I've managed to delete our names from everywhere....

Tuesday, 24 March 2015

A Step-by-Step Guide of How To Get Under My Skin (1 year + 1 week + 6 days)

I'm not someone who's easily annoyed. I'm not. I'm really not. I swear. Unless you catch me when I'm pregnant, in which case I probably hate you (terrible pregnant person; really, really, awful pregnant person). However there are certain things in life that wind me up. And when they happen in quite rapid succession, then...you'd better watch out really? Because I will be looking for someone/something to project my anger onto. Do we all know about projection? Yes? Where you take all the crappy stuff that's going on in your life and you blame it on something totally unrelated. That is projection. It is an awful definition of projection, but I don't care. I am annoyed. I'm not annoyed. No, I'm not annoyed. I'M SEETHING. I'm basically frothing at the mouth. Like, I think I need to take up boxing. Why am I in a horrible mood? Because it has been a perfect storm, you see. The following things have all happened at once, and because of this, I am ready to totally annihilate and destroy the world.

SO, here we go; here is the step-by-step guide of how to turn me into A Raging Psychopath:

1) Make sure I'm super-duper crazy busy
I do not need to go in to detail about this. It is common knowledge that I am a busy bee. This does not need expanding on.

2) Make sure you catch me when I've just come back from travelling all over the bloody country
I hate going away. I hate it. It messes me up really badly. Like my entire routine is just thrown out of place and I can't cope.

3) BIG ONE: Make sure that I've just been rejected from King's
Oh yeah, this happened. Which I expected. And which should be fine, because even if I had got the place, I wouldn't have been able to access funding because of the course itself (GEM vs 5 year blah blah blah I've written about this before I think). But it's not fine. I think it's fine, but then I burst into tears at the most inopportune moments (I am emotionally unstable). I'm not going to be a surgeon. Not yet anyway. But maybe never. And that sucks. That really sucks. And everyone says I couldn't have done it anyway because Piglet is still small and the hours are too long, but it just sucks. I'm seriously gutted.

4) Don't pay your child maintenance
Oh, boy, you're gonna get it....

5) Don't respond to my lovely messages where I'm asking about the aforementioned child maintenance
Obviously I called CMS first (which is putting my phone bill up by the way)


6) Block me on facebook
How rude is that? Like, I was so nice and lovely. And I've already seen the fact that you've been gambling and can afford a new phone so... no point trying to hide it now!

7) Still don't pay your child maintenance
Well now you have nobody to blame but yourself.

There were some lovely pictures here, but they're currently in the process of being "anony-fied" and hopefully will be back soon xxx



8) Don't answer the phone to CMS


There were some lovely pictures here, but they're currently in the process of being "anony-fied" and hopefully will be back soon xxx



9) Send me this message






Just so everyone is aware, I had a job interview at the start of this week, and I start tomorrow. Secondly, because of the hours, half of my wage is instantly spent on babysitters for Piglet. Obviously I'm at uni still. Yeah? Uni? My workload would make you cry. I have a one year old baby who I have raised myself from scratch. I have moved away from anyone I know, so I don't get cushy free childcare like you might. Do not make out that I do nothing. Do not make out that I get everything handed to me. You got yourself in this mess. You are pathetic. Your "poor me I'm so blameless" act? C U next Tuesday, babes. Oh, and child maintenance are open 8am-8pm so....?

On the plus side though, I was actually in the gym when I received that message. So I totally had the best workout of my life. So actually...thank you! You did me a huge favour. Was lacking a little motivation today! Quite sleep deprived you see? No time to sleep with all the "not working" that I apparently do. Clap clap, well done, you got under my skin. Twat.

Oh, and anyone who thinks I'm being unreasonable? Last time he spoke to me in person he was screaming in my face over something I hadn't even done, and had to be physically restrained by another person. I truly thought he was going to hit me. And yes, I was pregnant. Also, like I said- projecting. Perfect storm. Raging psychopath, right here. That is me.

My mum is going to shout at me about this post. But I just needed to clear my head. Get the psychopath out. So...sorry mum.

Tuesday, 17 March 2015

Running (1 year + 6 days)

If I didn't have a baby right now, I would run. As far as I could, and as fast as I could. And I'd hide. And I'd start a new life (probably in Paris, where I would work in some seedy vile backstreet pub, and smoke 462462 cigarettes a day, and live solely on wine).

When I'm under a lot of pressure, that is exactly what I want to do. I want to run. No, that's not right. That's not right at all. I can cope with the pressure. It's when I'm under a lot of pressure, and things aren't going the way that I want them to: that's when I want to run.

I'm in London at the moment. Piglet and I went down to my parent's house on Mother's Day, and then she's staying with them whilst I'm down here. I'm going back up tomorrow. Why am I in London, you ask? Two main reasons:

1) Part of my project can't be run on a laptop because of the stupid amount of memory needed for the calculations.
2) I had a medicine interview today.

I mentioned before how much I missed London. And I do, I truly do. London is my Mecca. I went running in Hyde Park last night, and it was like being home. That's how it feels when I'm here; it feels like home. Part of me doesn't want to leave. Of course, that being said, I miss Piglet enormously at the moment. I miss her chubby face. I miss her calling me dada. I even miss her sneezing all over me, and pulling my hair out (seriously, there's huge clumps of it missing). If I didn't have Piglet, I wouldn't leave. I'd stay here. I wouldn't think of the consequences; I wouldn't think of the responsibilities that I have, or the commitments that I have made; I would just stay here. 

So, firstly, on my time in London, I would like to start by saying that it is amazing how productive you can be when you haven't got a baby. I can get ready in 10 minutes. No joke. I can go from asleep, to showered, dressed, and out of the door in 10 minutes. Sure, my hair is crazy and my face needs massive amounts of work doing to it, but these are jobs for the tube. I've probably done more uni work in the past 36 hours, than I have in the previous two weeks. It's crazy. I am Queen Productivity right now. Also, it's quite funny how quickly you fall back into things. Such as being full-on irate that you've missed the tube, even though there's another one arriving in 3 minutes. It's a bit weird actually. It's almost like the past two years were a dream. I never left. I didn't have a baby. Very odd. Brains are very strange things, the way that they can adjust so quickly. 

Anyway, medicine interview: awful. Awful, awful, awful. And I'm pretty upset about it. Even though I shouldn't be, and I was literally just going for the interview practice (will elaborate on this in a future post- want to wait for the official rejection first). It was just...I don't know. Everyone seemed like pristine robots, polished within an inch of their lives, and I was just...raw. Not in terms of appearance, I mean, more in terms of answers and things. This is only the impression that I got by the way- I actually have no idea what anybody else said during their interviews. I felt...unworthy. That's how I felt. I felt like a charlatan- I had no business being there. Who did I think I was? Single mother trying to do medicine? Hahahaha, Bones, who are you kidding? Go back to the hole you came from, you scummy girl. I haven't felt like that for a long time. I haven't felt so inadequate for a long time- probably not since before Piglet. (Bloody hilarious now if they offer my a place- but this is how I felt.)  

I'm not very good at interviews. I'm not very good at selling myself. Because I don't think I've got a lot to offer. I think I'm pretty average. I don't think I've got a lot to bring to the table. That's just how I view myself.

So...what am I going to do? Who knows. Who bloody knows? I don't know. I have not got a clue. No ideas. Hence, the only thing that my brain can think of to do is: RUN, BONES, RUN!!!!!! But I have to ignore my stupid brain. and not run, and be responsible, and live like a normal person, as opposed to whatever I clearly am naturally. Just fight all my instincts (hahahaha next post is going to start with: "So, I'm in Paris...")

I mentioned last week (I think?) that we've moved. Our new flat is lovely. It's really nice. It's so pretty. Everything is just a bit manic at the moment, and unpacking has not been top of my priority list (hence, new flat = box city). The cats like it. I don't think I've ever seen them so happy- they've literally been bouncing off the walls. Big shout out to my moving buddies who helped shift all my stuff from our house to the new flat. It was really kind, and I am super appreciative. I honestly don't know what I would have done otherwise (had to pay the £450 for a moving van, I suppose?) I'll put some pictures up once Piglet and I are back up there (and fully unpacked- at the moment you'd literally be like "uhm, nice pile of boxes, Bones?")

So... trying not to run. Attempting to focus on one thing at a time, and slowly work my way through everything, so that I don't implode and end up in Paris. Fighting the temptation.

I really don't want to leave here, though.

Wednesday, 11 March 2015

One (1 year)

This was originally supposed to be all sentimental, and beautiful, and lovely, but apparently my brain isn't in the mood for that right now, so...here goes:

Piglet, you are one today; how quickly time has passed 
Each day we spend together seems to go quicker than the last
It feels like only yesterday, I first held you in my arms
When it was in fact a year ago, I fell victim to your charms.
(We all know who you inherited that from, don't we?)

Piglet, you are one today; you're as perfect as can be
Never could another mummy be as proud as me
Beautiful and funny, clever and so kind
A baby like my Piglet would be impossible to find!
(Unless you time-travelled back to 1990, of course)

Piglet, you are one today; and I'd like to take the time 
To thank you for your patience, whilst I've been finding mine
I know sometimes I seem distracted; immersed in other things
But all pale in comparison, to your smile; the joy it brings.
(...except my degree)

Piglet, you are one today; you've grown so big and strong
You are the missing part of me; the piece I needed for so long
To say I am in awe of you, does not quite convey
How I feel about you, each and every day.
(...except for when you're overtired and won't go to sleep)

Piglet, you are one today; and I never thought I could
Be so consumed with someone; obsessed more than I should
You are my star, my shining light; you help to guide me through 
For all that I am aiming for would be pointless without you
(I actually have nothing sarcastic to say. This is truly sincere)

Piglet, you are one today; you've taught me much so far
I had thought I knew everything (except how to drive a car)
"How did I survive before?" I often ask myself
When you weren't here, it was just me, and...something elf?
(Listen, it's late, I haven't slept properly in like 30 years, and I can't think of rhymes for everything ok?)

Piglet, you are one today; and yet you do not know
It's just another day to you, for playing with your toes
You're fast asleep and dreaming (eventually, I might add-
You came home from nursery to a different house: confused, a little sad)
(Limpet baby: "MUMMY, WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME? WHY? WHY MUST WE ALWAYS MOVE?????")

Piglet, you are one today; and I guess what I really mean
Is that one is just a number; your new age for the time being
But Piglet you are my one: not just today, but evermore 
And I love you more each day that passes; you're all that I've wished for. 
(Been sat here for the past half an hour trying to think of a word that rhymes with more that isn't whore)

Happy birthday to Piglet x


Ps how sexy is my new huge window?

Pps Update post coming soon. Very busy bee. Lots happening.

Sunday, 1 March 2015

Self-Inflicted (50 weeks + 5 days)

Firstly, I have set aside half an hour/an hour to specifically write this, so hopefully it won't be a blurry unstructured illogical mess. That being said, I am still a blurry unstructured illogical mess, so that may affect it (also, I am typing this one-handed whilst attempting to feed Piglet her porridge).

SO, let's kick off this bad boy with some discussion about dreams. Like I've said previously, sleep has not been a big priority for me at the moment because I've been a busy busy busy bee. And at the moment, when I do sleep, I've been having the most insane dreams. Like ridiculously vivid dreams; the "Why am I following a white rabbit, and why is there a smoking caterpillar here?" dreams. Here is a summary of some of the dreams that I have had this week:

1) Piglet died. She had an infection that nobody knew about and just died. And everyone was like, "it's ok, you can just have another baby!" I woke up from this one screaming and in floods of tears. If anyone had heard me, they would have thought I was being attacked. This was literally the worst dream I have ever had in my life, (Side note: Piglet clearly thought I'd lost it when I ran into her room wailing like a mad woman)

2) Imperial wanted me to do a PhD with them so much that they built us our own house to live in whilst we were there. That had a maternity operating theatre attached to it, so that I could watch people having c-sections. And there was a guy there who was saying, "you don't want to do chemistry, come over to engineering instead".

3) I was pregnant, but all the pregnancy tests kept saying that I wasn't even though I could see the baby moving. And I pulled out some girls hair.

4) Someone broke into the house. I'd forgotten to lock the door, and they'd just walked in. But I was like paralysed so I couldn't stop them, and I couldn't talk.

Like I said, these were all ridiculously vivid. To the extent where, when I woke up, I wasn't sure if they'd actually happened or not. Really freaky dreams. My sleep is still utterly atrocious. When I told my mum about these, she actually asked if I was losing my mind. To be honest, it wouldn't be surprising. I am exhausted right now, and even when I sleep, I'm not actually being allowed to rest.

And when I say I am exhausted, I'm talking about exhaustion that full-on affects your mental state. Three times this week, I have lost my phone, turned the house upside down looking for it, before calling it, only to find that it was in my pocket all along. The first time this happened, I then saw that I had a missed call on the phone, googled the number to see who it was, and was then totally perplexed when I couldn't find it (yes, that's right, I was googling my own number).

So why am I so exhausted? Why am I letting myself get into this state? Let's take a look at the culprits!

1) Uni-related stuff.

2) Piglet-related stuff

3) Appointments for Piglet/Me

4) Job hunting/PhD applications/Medicine things

5) Preparations for Piglet's birthday

6) Marathon training

7) Nursery-related things

And now let's discuss each of these in more detail, to see if I can cut corners on any of them, and maybe get a bit of decent sleep? Right so, numbers 1), 2) and 6) are- currently- essential. Uni is top priority. Piglet is top priority. This year is probably going to be my only chance to run the London Marathon and I want the best time I can get- again, top priority. And I am fine with all of these. I plan for them. I make time for them. I have a schedule that I can work to. Do you know what I don't plan for? I don't plan for waking up on a Sunday morning to find that Piglet has exploded poo everywhere. That is something that I do not plan for. That is something that takes time out of my day. That is something that ruins my schedule. What am I learning here? You can't plan for babies. Babies don't do schedules. What is this teaching me? I should not attempt to do anything productive at weekends, because it's just not going to happen with Piglet around.

Number 3), this week, has consisted of Piglet's eye appointment. Which Piglet loved. I want to actually give a big shout out to the people who examined her- they were so so so so good. And she was so funny. She was really intrigued by all the various bits of equipment they were using to look at her eyes (the ophthalmologist was like "you're a nosey one aren't you"- he's got her down. She is so unbelievably nosey, and curious about EVERYTHING). And she had to wear some funny glasses at one point which was hilarious! She was a model baby though. The most well-behaved child in the world. Anyway, outcome is that there are no problems with her sight. They said to just keep an eye on her squint and take her back in a year. It's likely that it will just go away by itself.

In theory then. that means that there should be no more medical appointment things for either of us for a while right? Piglet now has nothing on (that I am currently aware of). I have nothing until April, which is when I've got nerurology/epilepsy things...Oh, oh wait. Oh hang on. That's how it was supposed to be. Until I got a call on Wednesday afternoon from the doctor. Who wants me to have another ECG and he's asked for me to see him again. So now I've got an ECG on Monday and Doctor's appointment on Wednesday. And I don't have time. I just don't have time. I shouldn't have said anything. I should have just carried on as normal, pretending nothing was happening. Can I postpone these? Can I leave it till Summer maybe? And then we can worry about my health. Yeah? Because I'm fine. I'm fine. Seriously. Just stressed. But fine.

Number 4)- nope, can't put those off, Definitely can't put those off. Very important. Cannot be unemployed. Cannot cope with unemployment. Piglet at home all the time. Me having no goal or purpose. No way. No way, Jose. Number 4 is very very very very very very important.

Number 5. Piglet's birthday. Oh, number 5. Now this is a temporary thing. This is obviously going to pass. So, in 10 days my baby is going to be 1. Oh my gosh. This has happened ridiculously quickly. How is she getting so big already? I do not know. All I know is that it was a lot easier to get things done when she was tiny and wasn't moving about all the time (she's standing up properly now. Oh, and she has another tooth. Three teeth in like a month? Playing catch-up, obviously). What have I got for Piglet's birthday? I have sorted out her card. I have got balloons. I have got banners. I have got candles. I have got wrapping paper. As for presents? So far....she's got two books. I have no idea what to get for her. I was planning on getting her a trike, but I'm not sure now. I think she might still be a bit small. I also wanted to make her a card to send into Cbeebies, but I've missed the deadline (they have to be sent in four weeks before their birthday). WAH! I AM SO UNORGANISED. I'm going to have to rush round and sort it all out next week.

So we've done 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.... just 7 left! Nursery things. Ok, so you may think that by putting your baby into nursery that you're going to have loads and loads of free time, and they're going to raise your baby for you. And you can just relax. And you're right, To an extent, you're right. But there are nursery-related activities that you have to prepare for. Like, next week, is World Book Day. And you can send your child in dressed as their favourite book character (note that "can" = "will"). Piglet is going to be Peter Rabbit. So I need to go and buy some Peter Rabbit type clothes for her to wear. There's also some Mother's Day activities the week after for parents to go to (which is lovely! Really lovely....when you are not a manic busy bee), so I need to book time out of that week for those (Side note: In the past five minutes, Piglet has tried to eat my laptop wire, pull the laptop off my lap, type 53425 things on the laptop and eat my phone- this is why I get nothing done. I'm also covered in spit right now and I HATE BEING COVERED IN SPIT BECAUSE IT FEELS GROSS. Another thing about Piglet- she is wild. Like, most babies you can just stick them in their walker/highchair and they'll be happy for a bit, but Piglet wants to be free. WILD BABY).

Anyway, (she's happy again now-she's playing with a sports bra off the radiator), the point is that at the moment, I need to prioritise. I need to work out what the most important things in my life are, and tackle those first. Because my situation is self-inflicted. I have brought this upon myself (she's moaning again, clearly it's time for a nap). Why do I feel the need to do everything at once? Why do I feel the need to do everything alone? Why do I feel that I have something to prove? I need to slow down a bit, and work out what can wait, and what can't. And then (hopefully!) I will be able to have nice, peaceful sleep as opposed to whatever it is that I'm having now (it is not sleep- it is torture).

Just to finish, since we're talking about self-infliction, I'm still waiting for my child maintenance payment. For those who don't know, here's what happens when you don't pay your child maintenance:

1) If you miss two payments, they switch to collect and pay: the paying parent must pay an extra 20% to use this service (I think I also have to pay like 4%, but I'm not really bothered about that)

2) If you don't make these payments, then they take the money straight from your employer; you then have to pay the extra 20%, plus 20% on any arrears you have, AND you have to pay them £50 for setting this service up.

3) If you continue to be a total douchebag, and ignore your financial responsibility for the child you helped create, they can send bailiffs to your house to take your things, (including your car) and you can actually go to prison for missed child maintenance payments.

The child maintenance service have said that they have spoken with Mr Dickhead (sorry, slip of the tongue- Dixon, not Dickhead. My bad!), and he is using "common delay tactics" to avoid paying. They have assured me that they will proceed down the above route if he continues to not pay. Funny, the things that we bring upon ourselves.

ps. Almost forgot: Piglet said "Mum" this week. I was getting her milk ready, and she was shouting at me like "Ahawah wah wah wha wha MUUUUUUUUM!" Amazing, Step in the right direction. Before she was calling me by my name (seriously, she said my name. Or the combination of sounds that she made sounded like my name).

Monday, 23 February 2015

It's All About Me Piglet (49 weeks + 6 days)

On the 2nd October 2013, I wrote this:

"I'm feeling pretty optimistic about things at the moment. Maybe a bit more optimistic than I should be? I'm aware that its going to be difficult trying to balance everything, but I think I should be fine. (I can already see that in a month I'm going to look back at this post and LAUGH at how naive and stupid I was)."

Flash-forward 17 months, I'm currently averaging two/three hours sleep a night and am solely responsible for keeping Nescafe and Pro Plus in business. I've got a lot on right now. Between lectures, project, marathon training, attempting to have a tidy house, AND Piglet, I just don't stop. Bugger, I need to look at some more PhD's aswell. I'll add that to my to-do list. So, in terms of my life, I'm...stressed. Stressed, pressured, anxious, exhausted and...more stressed. Can't believe that I allowed myself a weekend off to go to Lancaster and behave irresponsibly. What were you thinking, Bones? You don't have the time! THERE IS NO TIME!!!

Anyway, whilst I do not have time to even think, I had promised Mrs Wiggle a weekend of fun. And that is what we had- I am not one to go back on my promises. So, on Saturday, we went swimming, which we haven't done in ages and ages and ages. I actually bought one of those crazy float things so that she could kick herself about a bit (and also, because I can afford to buy crazy float things that I have wanted for her since she was three months old). It was really fun. Piglet was very excited, and really enjoyed it. This is something that I'm hoping to keep doing with her, at least once a fortnight. We might go to a different pool next time though, (seriously, this one was freezing. We spent about half an hour in the showers afterwards, just trying to be warm again).

Side note about the float: I bought one that was for babies between 1-2 years, because Wiggle is almost one. Of course, I neglected to account for the fact that she is still a miniature baby. I thought it looked a little bit big for her when we were in the pool, (but I was always holding it, so it was fine; also, hilarious trying to put her in it by myself- one of the lifeguards had to come over and help. Note to all parents who use these floats: always go in pairs). It was only when I was putting it away afterwards (again, nightmare trying to deflate a float whilst your baby is screaming because they want attention- ALWAYS TAKE BABIES SWIMMING IN PAIRS!), that I read the box, and saw that the minimum weight was 11kg. Which for those of you that can convert weights, will realise is (around) 24.2lbs. Wiggle is 18lbs. Might explain the size mismatch. So, we may delay our next swimming trip (with the float, at least), until she's grown a bit more.

So, that was fun, fun, fun Saturday for Mrs Wiggle, and then on Sunday, I took her to the Funshack, which is one of those crazy indoor play areas which make you want to be 7 again. I can't even describe her face when we got there. It was so cute. She was so happy and so excited. There was a boy who came over to us in the soft play area (always seem to attract children when we're out anywhere and I don't know why- I think they can sense my fear of them) and was talking to us, and Piglet was completely besotted with him. She laughed every time he talked. EVERY TIME. And was constantly staring at him with a huge smile on her face. And crawling about after him, wherever he went. She really likes everyone who is a male (I'm sorry Piglet, these are more of my terrible genes that I've passed on).

Jumping about a bit here (because my brain is failing at remembering things in a chronological order), when we got back on Saturday evening, Boris had gone missing. I'd left him and Jeremy outside whilst we went out, but then only Jeremy would come in when I called them. He just wasn't there. I was convinced that something awful had happened- Jeremy kept crying and looking all sad, and sitting on the chair that Boris usually occupies. Also, Jeremy is really, really clingy, and hates being alone. So, on Saturday night, I was camping in the living room with Jeremy (/watching lectures in the middle of the night whilst Jeremy used me as a bed). Boris decided to return at 3am. Jeremy wanted to go outside, and as I put him out, Boris just casually walked in. As though nothing had happened. I was like, "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, GIVE ME A SQUIDGE YOU SILLY FAT FACE CAT!" He wasn't too keen on that (they literally have opposing personalities- Jeremy is a clingy social butterfly, and Boris hates the world).

The Health Visitor came round on Friday for Piglet's development review. It was really funny, because Piglet went all quiet and clingy when she arrived (stranger danger has full-on kicked in) and then after she'd sized her up and decided that she seemed ok, she went back to being crazy and dancing around the place (her dancing is the funniest thing in the world). Everything was fine anyway. She said that Piglet had done everything that she was supposed to do within five minutes of her arriving. She's actually starting to stand by herself now. And also, she's got one of those music things in her cot, and she's got a favourite song that she goes to sleep to, so whenever I tuck her in and leave the room, I hear her changing the music until she gets to the one that she likes. She's such a clever Piglet. We've got an appointment at the eye hospital for her next week. She's got a slight squint in one of her eyes and when I took her to the doctors for something entirely unrelated, they picked up on it and said that they like to look at all babies with squints. I think it's probably going to correct itself though. It only really gets noticeable when she's tired.

Speaking of appointments, I had my doctors appointment on Friday about my bloods and ECG. I was seeing the scary doctor, which I didn't realise until I actually got there, but it was ok because he didn't recognise me (I dyed my hair dark brown again on Thursday, but it is a truly awful patchy job, so there are no pictures until I rectify it. Not sure when I'm going to rectify it... Again, this is on my to-do list. It's just not near the top. I've been wearing make-up to counteract the terrible hair, so it's all fine. It's fine). Basically, ECG is fine. Bloods are fine. I am not anaemic (damn it). He's referred me to the epilepsy clinic because he thinks that my blackouts might be seizures. Initially I had no idea why he would think that, because my knowledge of epileptic seizures was the tonic-clonic kind. Having read up on it though, I can see why he's referred me. So...just waiting for that now. I don't know how I feel about it. I don't have time to know how I feel about it.

I was supposed to receive a child maintenance payment on the 15th February. I have not received it.  I've called the Child Maintenance Service about it though, so it should be rectified soon. Hopefully.

This is an utterly rubbish post. I'm sorry, I just can't focus right now, and I know that if I don't keep updating my blog on a regular basis, then I will forget everything we've done, and then I won't have a comprehensive record of Piglet's childhood. Hence, expect badly written posts for the next couple of weeks whilst I try and get on top of everything. Alternatively, I could just hire a male nanny, and they could take care of Piglet and house things whilst I focus on uni and marathon? Please send all applications via facebook. No experience necessary, as Piglet will love you because you're a man, Only requirements are that you must look like Harry Styles. And have a brain (as in, a clever one, not just any old brain).

...I've just realised how many times I've said "fine" in this post, and I feel like I'm in therapy again. I JUST CANNOT THINK OF SYNONYMS FOR "FINE" RIGHT NOW. That's another job for the male nanny when he arrives.