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).