I used to write more here. I used to write longer posts, more frequent posts, better posts. Posts which weren’t thrown out at high speed simply to remember that I exist somewhere on the interwebs.
I’ve got a running coach now: the same brilliant lady, Laura, who ran (with Other Laura) the track sessions on Monday nights in Paddington. I was running my best with those track sessions, and I’m hoping to recapture some of that form on my own, outside a club. Between LK’s bedtimes and being out one night a week for Guides, and working in London one day a week, it’s just not feasible to join a running club at the moment. Heck. It wasn’t even feasible to get to parkrun last week. I slept instead while N amused LK.
LK is the most beautiful baby. She’s starting solid foods (Hello! Banana in my ears!) and making all sorts of bizarre noises. For someone so small, she is very loud. A chatty, happy baby: very little seems to upset her. Other than the parachute at “Movement With Mummy”, where N tells me she cries. This is really weird as she loved the parachute at Baby Yoga. I have missed her while I’ve been at work these past 3 weeks (one more week to go), but it makes the time with her all the sweeter. The 6am feed today was a lovely snuggle in the dark, with a heavy, sated, snoring baby in my arms. There will be photos today, and I’m faintly relieved not to have to listen to the musical Kitty toy. It sounds like it was voiced by Paloma Faith, and its demands to play, and for someone to “roll my ball”, while informing anyone within earshot that it is a “purr machine” are both faintly suggestive and extremely annoying in their cutesiepie squeakiness. LK has no interest in musical Kitty if it isn’t making noises. She has worked out how to turn up the volume. That said, she is also pretty good at turning the pages of a book, so it’s not all about electronic gadgetry.
We still haven’t got her a copy of The Gruffalo (it seems that most of her books are by “the author of The Gruffalo”). We do like a good story. N can even read in Clanger. Her favourite is Tickling Tigers, so she now has her own copy of that. Personally, I’m rather fond of Hugless Douglas. I also rather like having a book lurking in the buggy for out and about emergencies outside the local Starbucks (Starbucks has a book barrel).
There’s been a heap of snow dumped at home. London, I see, as we get closer, is merely soggy. A few flakes failed to settle very much.
It was rather nice to crumple through the snow to the station at 7am. It being crisp and undisturbed enough to really enjoy. Plus, I have yaktrax. This makes it much easier to get a grip on the pavements. I am glad I’m not trying to run it in. Instead, I had a hidjously expensive trip to the gym on Wednesday night. On the plus side, I know how to work the running machine. Including the emergency stop button. It wasn’t safe to run intervals outside on Wednesday night, which was my only option for running. I had to defrost the inside of the car windscreen for heaven’s sake.
Nearly at the station. Let’s see if I can manage to write again next Friday.