Actually, LK is 13 months old, near as dammit, now. And trying to stand, and wanting to walk, and crawling about like a speed demon. All those things that babies do when they stop being babies and start being toddlers.
In the meantime, we’ve had solar panels fitted (goes with the reusable nappies. Now it’s, well, when we’ve paid it off, more-or-less free to wash the nappies. At any rate, we’re not paying the electric company, we’re making our own!). N turns 50 next week. I’ve managed to run a half marathon – the Midsummer Munro. It took about 3 and a half hours, but, my, it was insanely hilly. I’ll do it again next year. My aims were under 3 hours, and to not be last. I was not last. There was one point where it all felt harder than when the first epidural didn’t work during labour, but that lasted about five minutes, and I got over myself. I really recommend this one as a race.
I am running. Three times a week. I’m somehow beginning to hit speeds I haven’t hit since 2016 – I credit Laura. She’s awesome. She used to coach my Monday night club sessions, and she now coaches me online, one-to-one (work has this amazing benefit that we get money towards health and wellbeing – which is then taxed at source – which means it’s affordable to have a running coach and enter the odd race). My pelvic floor mostly holds out, my core really could benefit with more work than my holding my stomach in sporadically (hey, it’s a start), and I have given up on the idea that I’ll ever fit into my old sports bras again. I’m only feeding LK twice a day now, but even just after she’s drained me out, there is still more boobaliciousness than there used to be. And my underband measurement (or whatever it is) has increased by 2 inches. There doesn’t seem to be any more fat lurking on my ribcage than there used to be….odd what pregnancy does to a body.
I’m also anxious, and worried: the usual. Climate change and Donald Trump and Brexit. Will LK have any sort of a future? What will her world be like in 40 years time? Will she have a family, a job, a home? Will she have enough water and food? Hopefully, a good enough future. Hopefully not on a destroyed planet. Hopefully, we’ll all be getting better at making small changes. Because lots of small changes make for big change. My lying awake at 4am worrying doesn’t help anything. My remembering my water bottle, eating vegetarian food as far as possible (my downfall is porcine goodness), taking public transport, driving a prius, making stock out of vegetable peelings, looking for plastic-free (or very much reusable) alternatives will help. I am lucky enough to have the wherewithal to do this.
I’ve also nearly finished N’s London Marathon socks, and his Mum’s ridiculously twisty cable socks (photos will happen). I’ve decided that I’m going to reduce my carbon footprint yarn-wise – concentrating on buying yarn produced from British Baaaas. Using the patterns I already have. And so forth. As far as possible (look. I’m only human).
(Gin and second sock on a plane. Yes. Am woman of contradictions. Was in Indy for 2 days last week…)