Last night I headed into London, to go to a Holiday Mega Meetup as part of a Women in Technology Network Thing I’m a member of. It was grand fun. I won LK a rubber duck by dint of wearing my Terribly Tasteful Christmas Sweater (it’s from Boden). I drank two glasses of wine and ate an heroic quantity of festive sushi. We were rubbish at the quiz, and I had #metoo Mansplained to me (which was annoying). I missed the penultimate train home, and managed to leave my hat on the underground. Realising this as I exited the drain, I shot back in to see if the train was still there. It wasn’t – but my hat was sitting on a chair on the platform. HURRAH!
I got home, and heard all about LK’s day. This involved sandpits, rejecting her Christmas Lunch, playing with pompoms and bits of sparkly silver lametta and toddling everywhere. I learned that she, too, had lost her hat on the way home. Fortunately, she managed to drop it out of the buggy (despite being hermetically sealed in the raincover) onto the path and someone very kind had poked it into the chain-link fence which borders the path. I retrieved it, very soggy, on the way to nursery this morning. HURRAH!
Her hat, however, needs washing. Less hurrah. It’s very soggy and muddy. Which is a change from covered in cheese and snot, I suppose.
Seriously. How much snot can one small girl produce? And wipe on everything?
LK was ill on Elf Day so didn’t get to wear her elf costume (and it is too cute: if you’re on my Christmas Card list, you may have received a picture). I’d been ill with an upset tummy the night before (very short lived), she appears to be coming out of the poonamis in the last 24 hours (nursery have very kindly called them ‘teething poos’), but N is currently suffering rather worse than either of us, and has been since Monday. He’s got a tendency to a gyppy tummy ever since he has campylobacter four years ago.
It’s been draining. I’m on call all week, I’m more-or-less solo-parenting, N’s holed up on the sofa looking awful. I’ve had to work every single evening this week culminating in a call at just gone midnight last night because someone had unnecessarily disabled a backup job. It took me two hours to get back to sleep. LK was up at 5:30am.
Hopefully N’s digestion will clear soon. Hopefully I’ll get into London on Wednesday for a day’s volunteering, and an evening at the Women In Technology thing with one of my colleagues. And for dinner with some friends on Friday next week. I’m not holding my breath, mark you. I’ve missed both Christmas events at work this week. Being on call, I can’t go into London – I’m out of signal for too long. I’m supposed to answer and be online within 15 minutes of being called. This makes the nursery run somewhat challenging – I could, I guess, use the running buggy to speed things up, but that involves getting changed into and out of running gear and breast feeding just isn’t very easy when you’re encased in slippery nylon and a running bra. LK is always frantic on her return from nursery, even with emergency cheese being applied en route.
Oh yeah. Vote (we have postal votes. It saves trying to get out to a polling station).