The great mysteries

How do baby nails grow so fast and so sharp?

How does the infant bowel contain so much poo?

Where does it all come from?

Where do muslins go?

Ditto nappy wraps?

Will we ever manage a nap routine?

Xxx

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Step One

New strap on the Garmin achieved. Also knocked over a minute off this year’s parkrun PB (and four minutes off last week’s Slowest parkrun Evah). And found the HRM strap. And paired it and shocked myself with my heart rate. Also discovered that the battery charges rather better in a plug than from the laptop. So that postpones the new battery for a while. Total cost: £17.99 including getting the nice man at Timpson’s to replace the strap. I love Timpson’s. They deliberately employ ex-cons to give them jobs where others wouldn’t, and the CEO has fostered hundreds of children with his wife. We don’t have an independent shoemender in our area anyhow, but I love the ethos of this chain and will happily use it. They’re also my preferred place for printing photos of LK.

Step 2, buy new fitbit (the old one totally died last week) also achieved. Somehow I have found an Alta HR for £50 in a pre-Black Friday sale. Given I doubt I’ll find anything cheaper and the cheapest non-HR model I found was the same price…. it is now coming to live with me. And has a swanky indigo leather strap! Both my plastic straps for my Alta had died, so I was down to the metal strap which kept catching on towels.

I suspect Step 3 is “survive Hogback Road Run” in two weeks’ time. It’s a shade over 6 miles. The best I’ve managed so far is 4.5. I’m aiming to get up to 5 miles this week, and maybe 5.5 miles the week after. It’ll be fine. It’s not about racing. It’s about finishing 2018 with a medal and having a bacon butty. And leaving LK for 4 hours or so with Daddy and praying she’ll have some bottle rather than boob (a bit hit and miss of an evening but she won’t starve. She will be angry with me…and that won’t be the last time).

Oooh! I finally managed to photograph the lace scarf I knitted while pregnant:

Xxx

Hurrah!

We have survived our first family stomach bug: hurling and hearing LK hurl violently while I am mid hurl is not an experience I want to repeat. Directing clean up operations while shaking on the bathroom floor ditto. We still have slightly delicate digestions and should not be eating in polite society for a while yet: the gurgles are something to behold.

I’ve also managed to get my HRM to pair with my Garmin Forerunner 15. A new strap, and I think it’ll be working well enough, and long enough, to see me through to that sub-4 marathon in 2020. The battery may peg it sooner than I want, though (or I’ll be running the marathon sans HRM as it only just held out for the last marathon I did, and battery life does seem to decline over time…it started off holding an 8 hour charge with GPS). This means that I’m only looking for a new fitbit on Black Friday. My current one got dropped on the tiled bathroom floor and now only holds charge for 50ish hours instead of 5 days. This is annoying simply because the battery level indicator declares there’s still 3/4 charge left just before it dies. I wouldn’t mind if the indication were a tad more accurate and thus I got warning. It’s a bit like my dropped iPod only turning the volume down to a certain level. The thing is, I do rather like knowing how badly I’ve slept (recently, it’s been pretty good: LK is mostly sleeping from 11pm to about 5:30am. If I manage the same, all is good…)

At which point, I wandered off to do some idle googling, wondering how long the GPS is supposed to last on the Garmin, and found instructions for replacing the Garnin battery. This, I reckon, is worth the £15 punt for a new battery…it looks a little fiddly but not impossible. If I can have a quiet half hour I reckon I can suss it. And, I am so due a quiet half hour or 10 over the weekend as N has been out to football/at the studio/out with the NCT Dads/brewing and bottling beer on various weekends and evenings so is due some extra bouncing LK time.

Xxx

It’s no fun puking when your baby is puking

Bless her, about a minute after I started, LK joined in empathy. Having probably given me the bug the day before when she did some pretty epic puking.

I have puked more between 11pm and 1am than in the previous 7 years combined…better out than in, really. Of the Mums and Babies group that met Thursday, 3 families out of 5 have been ill. Perturbingly, we were in the room used for staff lunch and baby weighing on Fridays: and I gather the local hospital was full of puking babies in kiddy ambulatory care this weekend! Poor N is huddled on the sofa: he was just well enough to clean up LK while I was being ill, but has now succumbed himself.

LK, having spent the past two days not keen on food (who would be?) is now apparently making up for lost time. She’s s bit subdued which is hardly surprising. We have both slept from 2am to 8am, and I feel reasonably human, if whacked, and my feet are no longer freezing cold (they were like ice blocks last night and I was too miserable to push the hwb down to them). Part of me thinks this may kick the last 3lbs of baby weight into touch. Vanity, vanity.

Xxx

Well, I think I might just be there…

I have parkrun in my sights this weekend. I can cover the distance. I can cover the distance at a gentle jog. I’m still working on my pelvic floor. Jogging for half an hour seems OK. Three minutes of attempting to twist to Chubby Checker was rather more challenging. I may have made it harder by cuddling a 12lb baby at the time…

LK is getting good at holding up her head, sitting forward, trying to move (we still have a few weeks of grace yet). She likes boob, is picky about the bottle, has just gotten over a cold, is grasping toys and smiling like a loon. We danced for about 20 minutes then she fell asleep while one of her Daddy’s songs was playing. Yes. My baby sleeps to Heavy Metal.

She’s currently asleep on my tummy. She’s 3 and a bit months old, I’m over half way through my initial maternity leave…and so torn about working for a month in January.

I probably ought to put her in the Moses basket and Get On. But she is so peaceful and beautiful, and I don’t get to do this forever.

Ah. She’s stirring.

Xxx

C25K W6 R3

Crushed it. 25 minutes running without stopping. Still slow. Still muttering “core, floor, core, floor!” At various points. Hitting marathon pace briefly, and half marathon pace even more briefly.

But, and this is crucial, I am beginning to feel like a runner again.

Xxx

I was feeling pretty proudi

I’d just recovered from the article about the ultra-runner who ran at 3 months post-partum while breastfeeding by reminding myself that ultra-runners are an amazing, slightly bonkers, breed of runners: go look at ahealthiermoo who is one, and amazing and who has just completed her first 100 mile race.

I’ve just completed week 5 run 3 of couch to 5k – walk 5 minutes, run 20 minutes, walk 5 minutes and I managed it, and it was still slow going (my pace is still 10mins/mile at best, I still have half a stone to lose), but I enjoyed myself and can see that parkrun will happen again soon enough.

And then I came across the woman who ran a 3:22 marathon at 6 months post partum while pushing a double buggy.

Not that I’d ever have a hope of achieving that type of time even without having had LK: remember, I’m aiming for a sub 4 hour marathon in 2020, having been 2 minutes off at Berlin 2015

All credit to these ladies. But I wish they’d stop doing it. It makes the rest of us feel utterly rotten. Bad enough feeling guilty that I’m even going for a run and leaving LK with Daddy for an hour or so. But to then have this sort of achievement in the news? It makes one feel wholly inadequate. That you’re not even trying: when some days it’s tricky enough to remember to clean your teeth in the morning and take your inhaler and use a hairbrush (I’ve taken to doing this after the 5am feed, so at least it’s done). Some days involve seven changes of clothes in the space of 24 hours, plus two clean trousers for Mummy, who quite often declares “It’s only wee, it’ll dry”. Some days are ridden with laundry and others seem to be entirely nap free: so there’s lots of tummy time and looking at things and talking and smiling and, frankly, enjoying the little human finding her hands, and learning to smile, and lifting her head, and producing Surprising Nappies.

I’m supposed to be baking gluten and dairy free banana bread for a Macmillan coffee morning tomorrow. The bananas in the freezer are totally past it. There is no Stork Hard Margarine and three of the eggs in the Ocado delivery were cracked. So, since we need more nappies (we are about to go back into cloth after Epic Thrush Nappy Rash but the new, next size up, cloth ones need re-elasticating and I’ve only done half), we’re going to head into town to rectify this by buying gf oats, hard marg, caster sugar and making flapjacks to Great Auntie Peg’s recipe, as being quick and easy. I may get fancy and drizzle dark chocolate over them.

Melt together 250g sugar and 250g hard marg in a pan.

Turn off the heat and stir in 250g oats. Mum thinks Quaker Oats are best. But any will do.

Cook in a greased 10″x6.5″ tray at gas mark 3 for 45 mins.

Cut up 10 mins after removing from oven and leave to cool in the tin.

You may thank me later.

Xxx