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Time for Tubby naps
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Big blue eyes
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Helping daddy blow out his candle
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Planning something cheeky
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Doing the splits
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Down again | |
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| On daddy’s shoulders |
Space cadet
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“What shall I grind this playdough into?” | A blanket for Babu |
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March 31, 2003 Every word out of the spokespersons’ mouths makes me angry: the insultingly manipulative language, the lies, the lunatic logic, the hypocrisy. The glib way the politicians talk about “regrettable” civilian deaths and casualities, as if they gave a shit. The fact that this is being done in my name makes me sick to my stomach. It is just so completely wrong — stupid, illegal, and wrong. |
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| March 30, 2003 Happy birthday Freddy! Happy Mother’s Day to me! (I don’t know why Mother’s Day is different in the UK and Canada but I wish it wasn’t– it gives me a headache every year trying to remember the Canadian date…) What with the champagne the night before, Adam was a little slow off the mark, and I had to remind him of the date and prompt him for a cup of tea in bed. He and Nova had their usual Sunday pancakes while I went for a long run on the Heath to blow away some of last night’s cobwebs — and build up an appetite for lunch. We met Freddy, Beulah, Doron, Antonia and Oliver for a family lunch at a Thai restaurant in Cockfosters. We’d filled Nova up before we left (the reservation was for 1:30pm) but that didn’t put a noticable dent in Nova’s appetite. She munched her way through several spicy prawn crackers, two triangles of chicken-sesame toast, and little mound of steamed rice and some pahd thai noodles. We headed back to Freddy and Beulah’s for dessert and coffee, Nova trailing a large bouquet of balloons she’d “liberated” from an anniversary party at the next table. Freddy seemed very pleased with the bottle of 1933 armagnac — a joint gift from Adam, Doron, Antonia and me. Adam and I passed on dinner this evening, although Nova managed some toast and milk before bed. |
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Freddy at 2 |
March 29, 2003 Adam took Nova swimming this morning while I did my workout. I felt a bit uncertain about going for a run until the bruising to my leg goes down a bit, but I did the recommended weight lifting with the exertube. Nova flaked out as soon as they got home from the pool, and we had a lovely quiet little oasis of time before she joined us for lunch at about 2pm. Beulah threw a 70th birthday party for Freddy this evening. We had to scramble around a bit for a babysitter at the last minute. Chris downstairs was going to do it, but she came down with a cold and wanted to go straight to sleep when she got home from work. I didn’t want to ask Pascale again as she’d had Nova only last night. In the end, we took the monitor and a set of keys over to Jenny’s and she babysat remotely, from the comfort of her own living room. I don’t think I would have felt comfortable leaving Nova alone in an empty house, but with Chris there it felt alright. We ended up getting to the party about an hour late. There were about forty friends and family, and Beulah had wisely opted for caterers: mini bagels, hot dogs, cones of fish&chips, cheese burgers and salt beef sandwiches; tempura; courgette fritters; and a few other things I can’t recall, all of which were delicious. Canapés were followed by a dessert buffet and a massive chocolate cake. Home about 11:30pm. |
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March 28, 2003 She was also keen to grub about in the little patch of dirt at the foot of all the trees lining North Hill, where every dog in Highgate must do its daily business. We were about half way down the hill when a big, sleek Mercedes Benz cruised by. Just as it passed us its car alarm started blaring. The driver pulled over pretty swiftly, and started fumbling with the dash. As soon as he stepped out of the car, I thought it extremely unlikely that it was his car. He was a young guy in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, and this was a beautiful car. He lifted the hood and poked around underneath (no doubt looking for a wire to yank out). By this time he’d attracted the attention of a couple of poodle walking matrons, an old duffer at the bus stop, and the guy from the corner shop, who were all watching to see what he’d do next — which was walk away as casually as he could manage. What an effective anti-theft device. Our car has an immobiliser that doesn’t allow it to drive faster than 6 miles an hour if it is started without the key, but I think this is even better. You could even get an alarm that yelled, “Help! Call the police! I’m being stolen!” According to the doctor I’ve likely burst a blood vessel in my leg. He was surprised there wasn’t any trauma, but when I mentioned that I’m taking a baby aspirin daily he thought that might have contributed to the amount of bruising. Basically, if the lump hasn’t gone in two weeks I should go back. Out in the evening after dropping Nova round at Pascale’s for dinner and bed. Joined Adam and his colleagues at a pub in Waterloo next to the New Vic for a “swift half” before catching a performance of “Simply Heavenly”, a musical written by Langston Hughes, set in 1950s Harlem. Fantastic singing and blues music. It’s the first time we’ve been to the theatre since Nova was born (and the second time she’s been put to bed by someone else). It got me thinking of how often my parents went out when I was a kid, and the answer is “not very”. I don’t know what they got up to when I was Nova’s age, but in older childhood it was definitely an exceptional occurrence: Teresa Carmichael’s wedding, to the cinema to see “A Clockwork Orange”, a few parties at the Lundens’ house… Everyone had a late supper at a nearby Turkish restaurant afterwards, which was fun and a chance to meet a few of Adam’s new colleagues. We left at 11:30 (with our main courses half finished) and caught a taxi home to pick up Nova. A really nice evening… |
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March 27, 2003 I’d brought grapes along for Nova’s snack, and Jemima had anchovy stuffed olives. Nova had one grape, then made a beeline for Ruby’s olives, finishing the whole pot off and drinking the vinegar. Fortunately Ruby seemed more into grapes anyway. (They both filled up on the bread meant for the ducks as well…) This afternoon I discovered that I have a huge bruise and lump behind my right knee. I have no idea what caused it — unless Adam gave me a good kick in his sleep (he did that once before thinking he was scoring a winning goal for Arsenal). It’s almost black and there’s a lump the size of a walnut. It’s not particularly painful, but it’s worrying not knowing what’s caused it. Adam was out this evening at a globalisation debate, so I made a mushroom risotto for Nova and me. I was pretty sure she’d like it — she’s enjoyed risotto in the past — but she took one look at it and burst into tears, crying “No! No! No!” So she ended up with her standby of pitta, hummus, and ham while I polished off a perfectly blameless risotto. |
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March 25, 2003 Met my friend Lorraine at Carluccio’s Cafe, and we sat outside in the sunshine and had a lovely lunch: spaghetti alle vongole, rocket-parmesan salad, a large glass of wine, and the baked peach with amaretti. Afterward we had manicures at the Selfridges nail bar before I had to race back to pick up Nova — a nice girly afternoon out. |
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| March 23, 2003 I did the Costco run on my own this morning while Adam took Nova to the park. Apparently she pushed a big girl who was trying to cut in front of her on the slide. Adam told her pushing was wrong, but personally I’m glad she’s getting a bit more assertive. After a late lunch, he headed off to the Arsenal v Everton match with Doron, while Nova and I hung out together. Every time I serve Nova a meal, she gives it a good once over, names the things she recognises, puts a piece in her mouth, and pronounces it either “nice” or “sour” depending on whether or not she likes it. Tonight’s meal — veggie-mushroom burger patty, fried mushrooms, new potato, and broccoli — met with her approval. Her appetite’s returned after her recent illness. Today she ate: two pancakes, glass of juice, banana, half an avocado, three slices of cheese, several slices of cucumber, 4 cherry tomatoes, slice of wholemeal bread, small bag of mini cheddar crackers, half an apple, two biscuits, handful of raisins and cheerios, half a large marmite rice cracker, a beaker of milk, and the above dinner. Not bad for a 25-pound little girl… |
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On the march |
March 22, 2003 The demographic was different as well — less well-heeled ladies in pashminas, and far more kids and young people. Nova nodded off almost immediately and slept the whole way to Hyde Park, waking only when we stopped to have a coffee and listen to the speakers. Later on the news the crowd was estimated at 500,000 people — less than half the size of the Feb 16th march. We’d agreed to babysit for Pete and Pascale, so after a rushed dinner Adam headed over there while I settled Nova for the night. I had a bath then got into bed to watch Law and Order. As usual I saw the order part, but fell asleep before the got to the law. |
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March 21, 2003 Our two (armless) armchairs are sadistically designed to either make you slump backwards unnaturally or perch on the rounded end of the seat as if you were balancing on a fence. (When Freddy sat down in one of our chairs last night he made a sound that was the antithesis of the one people make when they sink into a comfy piece of furniture, a sort of anti-“aaahhh”. By the time we left five minutes later he’d shifted discreetly to a sofa.) Our dining room chairs are real ass breakers — little fold-up numbers that are just about tolerable for a three-course meal. By the time coffee is served our guests are shifting from cheek to cheek and we generally suggest moving to the “comfortable” furniture, which is pretty ironic if you are acquainted with the misshapen, unwelcoming lumps we’re referring to. In fact the only vaguely comfortable things we own to sit on are the padded office chair and the coffee table. (Even our bed is too narrow, too short, and the mattress unsprung. It’s the equivalent of sleeping on a soft-sided suitcase packed full of clothes, or the “croutons” I used to make do with in my student years.) I’m not sure how this situation has arisen. Both Adam and I are comfort loving people. We did inherit some of the furniture when we moved in, and we’ve always had the idea that we might move back to Canada at some point, and so investing in furniture didn’t seem that logical. But when you think that we’ve been putting up with this stuff for eight years, it really is time to take action… A side point: when I was growing up, we used to call our couch the “chesterfield”. Is this one of those brandnames that come to be used generically? Like Kleenex or Bandaids? |
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| March 20, 2003 Happy birthday, darling Adam! This is the 17th birthday you’ve had since we met. Nearly half our lives… Adam took the day off and we had a family day. Started off with a joint doctor’s appointment about the pregnancy stuff. I’ve been referred to the EPDU (Early Pregnancy Diagnostic Unit) and Adam’s going to have a sperm test (“That’s nowhere near big enough!” he said when the doctor gave him his sample bottle.) He has very specific instructions about timing, keeping the sample in his trouser pocket, and getting it to the lab within the hour. Probably makes sense to do it there, if it doesn’t feel too weird… Afterwards Adam took Nova to the playground, and I went to get my hair cut. Alicia was busy with another customer when arrived. “It’ll just be a few minutes,” they said. Fifteen minutes later a girl led me back to the sinks and washed and conditioned my hair. I waited another half hour. Alicia finished with her customer, then disappeared downstairs, then stood around chatting with someone at the door. I thought, “This is ridiculous!” stood up, took off my gown, and said, “I have to leave — you’ve kept me waiting for over 45 minutes, it’s my husband’s birthday, and we’ve got plans.” The crowded salon was silent as I marched out of there with my wet hair, banging the door shut behind me. After lunch, Adam called Alicia and discussed the situation. Apparently, she had been doublebooked, but if that’s the case they should have said so. I would have been annoyed, but I wouldn’t have wasted the best part of an hour not getting my hair cut. She apologised and said she was “shocked” when I left — “Andrea’s so laid back — we always have a nice talk when I cut her hair.” There’s a difference between being laid back and being a pushover… Anyway, the upshot is I’m going to get my hair cut on Saturday with a discount for the inconvenience. We had lunch at home, with a glass of wine and candles in the blueberry muffins. I gave Adam a course of 10 harmonica lessons at the Working Men’s College in Camden. In the afternoon we took the tube down to the Tate Modern to see the Max Beckmann exhibition, which was excellent. Nova enjoyed running around the big rooms, twanging the guard wired, climbing on the sofas, enjoying the acoustics by yelling “Nova!” every few minutes, and pressing her nose against the windows overlooking the Thames and yelling “Sea!” Beulah and Freddy came round to babysit in the evening, and we took the tube down to the Cinnamon Club in Westminster, just off Parliament Square, where there was a noisy anti-war demonstration going on. (Quite tempted to join them…) The food at the Cinnamon Club is modern Indian, and after starting with a Bombay Breeze (mandarin vodka, cranberry juice, lychee juice) I had the mixed vegetables with cumin “pau” (a kind of Indian dumpling, and the tandoori monkfish with tomato-lemon sauce, which was absolutely delicious. Adam had rice-crusted aubergine puree with fiery raita to start, and blackened cod with mustard greens (another stunner). We shared the coconut assortment (coconut ice cream, coconut caramel, and coconut baklava) for dessert and had an espresso before catching a cab home. |
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| March 19, 2003 I had the most unlikely sandwich for lunch today. I’m still following the fat loss diet plan, and for each meal you are given two options. I have avoided the cottage cheese/cranberry sauce/rocket sandwich until now, but the other lunch choice today was the even more unappealing. Anyway, you take two slices of wholewheat bread, spread one with a thick layer of cottage cheese, the other with a generous slathering of cranberry sauce, pile on as much rocket as you can, and combine. Surprise of surprises, it’s pretty good. You wouldn’t mistake it for a Boxing Day turkey sandwich or anything, but it was strangely satisfying. |
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| March 18, 2003 We had two nannies/mother’s helpers when I was little — Jytte and Gladys. Jytte was a gorgeous dark-eyed German girl, who wore midriff baring dresses. I don’t have much memory of her, but I’ve seen her in home movies looking glamorous and trying to keep my from smearing birthday cake in her hair. My only memory of her is playing ‘Eehhhlp’. (She’d put a towel over her head and cry ‘Ehhhlp!’ and I’d rescue her. Then I’d put the towel over my head and cry ‘Ehhhlp!’ and she’d rescue me.) I’m pretty sure she left us to become a cocktail waitress at the Inn of the North. Gladys came after David was born and stayed until some time after Wade’s arrival. She was short and pudgy, with terrible skin, horn-rimmed cat’s eye glasses, buck teeth, and a big red beehive. She was one of 13 kids from a farm outside of Vilna, Alberta (the kind of place most Albertans couldn’t locate on a map). Her taste in clothes ran more to polyester separates in lime green or orange, and she was as homely as Jytte was beautiful. (When I commented on that once to my mom, she said, “Your dad hired Jytte — I hired Gladys.”) I have far more memories of Gladys: her lousy cooking, her unexpected speed at running, her addiction to the Edge of Night. (I used to watch it too, and named my Barbie dolls Nancy and Roxanne after two of the characters. My mom used to amaze Gladys by coming out with the next line before the actor said it: “Have you seen this one before?”) Gladys was almost the same age as Greg and I used to think how great it would be if they were to get married, but Greg didn’t share my enthusiasm. When she left us to marry Bernard, a trailer salesman, we never heard from her again which hurt my feelings (she had hinted that I might be a flower girl at her wedding…) |
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| March 17, 2003 Half way through my eight-week plan and I’ve lost 10 pounds. It would be great if I managed to lose another 10 pounds in the next four weeks, but I think that might be a bit over-optimistic. Anyway, I’m pretty happy with the results so far. I can wear everything in my closet, and feel noticeably fitter when I climb an escalator, or push Nova’s pushchair up the path. I’m getting a little tired of some of the recipes, although there are a few that we’ll definitely make in future. |
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| March 16, 2003 In spite of a crashing hangover, Adam took Nova swimming in the morning, which gave me a bit of time on my own. As usual I spent nearly all of it cleaning, cooking, and ironing and was just settling down with a cup of tea when they returned. Went for a family afternoon walk in Golder’s Hill Park. I thought Nova would enjoy seeing the deer — they have fallow deer and these little pygmy deer that look like a cross between a pig and a dog. There were a few deer quite close to us munching away on grass, and I said, “What do deer eat, Nova?” “Honey,” she replied with conviction. |
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The happy family at Tescos |
March 15, 2003 For some reason we did the weekly shop at Tesco today. Nova was in a strop the whole time, although we kept up a steady stream of cakey, croissants, and rice crackers. She’d howl if I left her field of vision for a second, deliberately dropped her croissant on the floor then griped when I wouldn’t let her eat it, and insisted on being carried for the last fifteen minutes, forcing me to hold her on one arm and steer the laden cart with the other. Not a lot of fun… Went round to Pete and Pascale’s for dinner. We didn’t have anyone to babysit, so we brought Nova along and put her down to sleep in their travel cot. Pasc made her boursin/bacon/mushroom pasta dish, which is definitely my favourite meal from her repetoire. She made some canapes as well — caviar and sour cream on little squares of rye bread. We got through two bottles of red wine, but I don’t think Pasc or I drank much of it. Adam was looking pretty glassy-eyed by the end of the evening, and Pete got started on his card tricks (a pretty sure sign that he was well away). Being sober, it was pretty easy to see what he was doing when he tried to hide or mark a particular card. I’m sure it would have been much more impressive if I was the drunk one… |
| March 14, 2003 Today was a Nova day. Some days when I’m at home I have a bunch of things I need to do and Nova is more or less cooperative depending on her mood. Yesterday was like that, in fact. Today I didn’t even bother writing a “to do” list, but just hung out and played with Nova. She’s into puzzles these days, so we did a bunch of those. I didn’t manage to get organised to go swimming, but we did stroll over to Waterlow Park for a swing and play on the slide. It was almost noon by the time we were done, and I decided to take her to the new McDonalds at Archway, where she sat on a regular chair like a big girl and demolished a small order of fries with obvious satisfaction. Afterwards, we took the bus back home — another treat. In the afternoon we visited Elisa and Jamie, and Nova had countless goes on their livingroom slide. She’d whizz down at great speed, sailing off the end. Usually she’d manage to land on her feet, but a few times she toppled over onto her face, and by the time we left her cheeks were crimson with carpet burn. She sure enjoyed it though… |
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| March 13, 2003 Nova’s vocabulary is growing so much. She comes out with new words every day, and when I go through her books she comes out with words I wasn’t aware she even knew. Her pronounciation lags a bit behind, and sometimes she’ll say something, and although she repeats it and repeats it, I just can’t work out what she’s saying, which is frustrating for both of us. She’s got her own version of some words as well:
come to mind, but there are lots more. |
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| March 12, 2003 I received a package in the post from Amazon yesterday. I didn’t remember ordering anything… Inside was a book called The Tipping Point, and Dr Seuss’s classic Fox in Socks, which Nova pounced immediately. “No, no, sweetie, it’s not our book — Mommy has to return it,” I said extricating it from her. (Of course I was doing the exact same thing to The Tipping Point, using techniques learned when I work at Manhattan Books — I’d read entire novels without creasing the spine, so they could still be sold). I thought, “The person who ordered these must have really similar taste to me — isn’t it a coincidence that they got misdirected to our address.” In the morning I phoned Amazon and explained that I’d received some books that I hadn’t ordered. The woman checked the mailing address and confirmed that it was correct. She asked me for my email address and said that it differed from the person who had ordered the books but wouldn’t tell me who it was. I tried Adam’s name and Chris (the woman who’s staying downstairs) but neither of those were right either. I asked her if it was a Canadian email address. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that,” she said. “Oh, come on, it’s not giving away personal information to tell me if the address ends in a .ca,” I insisted. “Well, yes it does,” she said. After that, I got it in one. So thanks very much, Margo and Aaron! I’m already on page 80 of The Tipping Point, and finding it fascinating. (I’m on page 244 of Fox in Socks, having read it four times already today…) |
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| March 11, 2003 Standing in the kitchen after work thinking about what to make for Nova’s dinner, got me thinking about the meals I used to enjoy as a kid. My definite all-time favourite was beef stroganoff. When we put together a class cookbook in grade 1, that was the recipe I contributed. It’s still a big favourite today, although I make it without the beef. My other favourite meals of mom’s included:
There were a few things I didn’t like: broad beans and bacon; mock duck (a dense brown lump of I have no idea what); ox tail (too stringy); spanish rice; steak and kidney pie; hamburger gravy (mainly as a result of over-exposure)… Our usual dessert was fruit crumble, which I loved, jello, or occasionally pies. There was the odd cake (my favourite was the oatmeal one with the toasted coconut topping), and often home-made cookies (usually granola, or sometimes chocolate oat things you chill in the freezer). At some stage the dinner cooking duties shifted to my dad. He approached cooking in his usual methodical way. He started with spaghetti, and made batch after batch after batch. Once he had that mastered he added clam chowder to the menu. Next came chow mein, then shake and bake. I think he eventually worked up to seven recipes, but it’s first two that are burned into my memory. He still makes a terrific pot of clam chowder, and I always request it on visits home. |
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Liam Richard says hi! |
March 10, 2003 Wade and Gale have had their baby! Liam Richard Horth was born on March 9 in the Prince George Regional Hospital. Wade called us a few minutes after the birth. It sounds like things went pretty well. He weighs 7lbs something, which is a nice size. I think he looks very relaxed considering what he’s just been through… They knew they were expecting a boy, but it is still so amazing to actually meet the little creature that’s been kicking your organs about for the past five months, and to put a face to them. I think he looks a bit like Wade, but then I haven’t seen a baby picture of Gale, so I couldn’t say if he looks like her as well. I found that people who know me better tend to think Nova looks more like me, and those who know Adam best think the opposite, especially if they knew us as children. |
| March 9, 2003 Happy birthday, Lynette! Adam took Nova off to the swimming pool this morning, which gave me a couple of lovely hours to myself. Finished my book, did my exertube routine, put on laundry, tidied the house, sorted through the magazine stack. The usual giddy round of pleasure. Met up with Doron, Antonia and Oliver for a pub walk in Primrose Hill in the afternoon. It was incredibly windy — enough to peel the skin off your face, which was a shame, as it had been a beautiful bright morning. Nova had her little pushchair with Po strapped in, and marched along proudly, attracting smiles from everyone who passed. It makes sense that she’d enjoy pushing the pushchair for a change — she’s spent enough time in the thing. If there was a odometer on that thing, I’m sure it would read hundreds of miles. |
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| March 8, 2003 Dave came round for dinner last night. He brought Nova a beautiful Maisy book with lots of tabs to pull and flaps to lift. Needless to say, she immediately wrenched the pop-up tractor off its moorings and would have torn it to shreds if I hadn’t stopped her. For dinner I made four portions of the mushroom risotto from my low fat plan, opened a couple of bottles of red wine and there was the oatmeal cake for dessert. Dave’s moving back to our neck of the woods in a couple of weeks, having found a housing coop in Tufnell Park where he’s landed a room for £35 a week (including bills) which is pretty much unheard of rent for London. It’ll be terrific having him living nearby again. He’s off to the Lake District for a few day’s walking. Having turned 50, he’s eligible for what he calls an “old person’s” bus pass, so he’s using that to get to Keswick for £10 return, and will stay in a youth hostel when he’s up there… Went to Brent Cross this morning, as I needed to buy a new pair of jeans (having recently got rid of two pairs that I bought in 1994) and there’s a Waitrose where Adam did the grocery shopping while I tried on clothes (the very same Waitrose where he cut off his finger stacking shelves in 1984). I find shopping really hit and miss. Some days the stores seem full of clothes that I like and that look great on me. Other times, I can’t see anything I’d wear on a dare. Today was one of the good days, and I found a few things besides the jeans — a beautiful summery skirt, a rusty red teeshirt and an oatmeal coloured silk-linen sweater — so that was good. I’m not much of a shopper and tend to buy things in bursts. I wanted to get a couple of toys for Nova as well. I don’t think I have a very good eye for buying toys. I tend to look around a toy store and see nothing but overpriced plastic crap. So instead, I watch her play with other kid’s toys, and see what she likes, then get her that. I was looking for a little pushchair for her doll, a ball we can take to the swimming pool, a little pop-up tent house like Martha’s, and a particular wind-up toaster she’d enjoyed at Ben and Michaela’s, all of which I managed to track down eventually. I’m going to dole things out to her gradually. She’s been having a great time with the pushchair this afternoon, so we’ll leave it at that for now. |
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| March 7, 2003 I must say that Calpol has been one of the biggest disappointments of motherhood. For years I’ve been hearing about the wonders of Calpol, how it settles a sick child in minutes, how some parents gave their child a dose before flights and they slept like a charm and blah blah blah… Nova seems to be completely immune to the powers of Calpol. If anything it seems to perk her up… There is this stuff called Medised that is guaranteed to settle them but they can’t take it until they are two. Or is that at 2am? If we’d had a bottle in the house I’d have been pretty sorely tempted to try it last night. Nova woke up at 2am. Adam went in twice to settle her without success. I finally brought her in with us at 2:45am. We tried everything to settle her — rocking, walking, food, water, Calpol, songs, TV — and she just sobbed and sobbed. There didn’t seem to be any reason for it. At one point I stripped her clothes off just to ensure she wasn’t covered with some dreadful rash. She cried so much her eyes and lips were puffy and swollen, and the shoulder of my nightgown was soaked. She was on the verge of hysteria. She’d wail for her beaker, even though it was already in her hand, and if you pointed it out to her she’d wail harder. At 4:30 I handed her over to Adam, as my back was starting to give in and my patience was at an end. He spent another half an hour or so walking with her before she finally fell asleep. It was a nightmare… |
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| March 6, 2003 Happy birthday, Antonia! Things have been a bit of a blur round here with Nova’s gastroenteritis… we haven’t had a decent night’s sleep all week. She seems a bit more herself today, which is nice as Jos Steedman came round for lunch and it’s the first time she’s met Nova. I served her my diet lunch of red rice salad, but felt it was a bit mean all on it’s own and threw together an oatmeal cake at the last minute… (She seemed keener on the cake than the salad, and had two slices…) She’s looking after Ray and Elsie while Jane and Gerry spend four days in Paris… It’ll be nice when we get to that stage… After lunch, we took Nova for a walk in the park and a swing. She went down the slide three times all by herself, which was a milestone. I’d been invited to join Antonia and Doron at Cuba Libre (a trendy bar in Upper Street) for the birthday celebrations, but I was feeling too exhausted by the recent broken nights, and by 9:30 I was fast asleep in front of the telly. |
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| March 4, 2003 Happy 5th birthday, Ceinwen! Poor Nova is sick. She seemed a bit listless yesterday, and didn’t make much of a dent in her dinner, although it was fish fingers — one of her favourites. She kept talking about poos, but each time I checked her nappy was empty. I was just about to get her into her pajamas when I smelt the most dreadful pong. She’d flooded her nappy with diarrhoea, and of course when I laid her flat it went squirting up her back and even into her hair. It took ages to clean her up… We went in a couple of times during the evening and gave her a surreptitious sniff to ensure there wasn’t a repeat performance. But she had something far more impressive in store for us… At 2am Adam heard her crying and went in to see what was up. After changing her nappy the room was still pretty smelly. He had a closer look and discovered that she’d vomited all over her bed, hair and pajamas. He wiped her down, then brought her into me while he cleaned up the mess. gave her a drink of water and within twenty minutes she’d thrown up again all over me and our bed. Things carried on in this vein for the next couple of hours. We got her a basin but she didn’t really get the hang of it, and most of the vomit ended up on me or her snuggle cloth. We all got a few hours sleep eventually. I had an NHS conference at Highbury Stadium so I got dressed and staggered off to that (needless to say I didn’t go for my half hour run), while Adam made an appointment with the duty doctor. I came home at 1pm and Adam went into the office. Apparently Nova has gastroenteritis, and needs to be kept on clear liquids and Calpol for 24 hours. Easier said than done… hard to explain to a one year old why she can’t have a banana (or two), and I didn’t bother. At least they stayed down… Nova seemed a bit perkier and we read endless books, watched videos, and did all her puzzles. She fell asleep in my arms at 5pm, and at 6 I moved her down to her room. I’m afraid Shrove Tuesday went by the board this evening, which is a shame as Nova is normally a pancake-eating fiend and she would have enjoyed it… |
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| March 3, 2003 Well, I weighed myself this morning, and I’ve lost six pounds so far, so all that weighing and measuring seems to be paying off. I’m enjoying getting a bit of exercise again too. That being said, I put off this morning’s workout until tomorrow, so I only have one working morning where I have to get up at 5:30am… |
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| March 2, 2003 This afternoon we continued with Adam’s project of doing all the walks in his north London pub walk book. This one started at the Hampstead end of the Heath, and had us walk down to the Highgate Ponds, then up the long lime tree avenue to Well Walk and down through Hampstead to a local pub. Nova walked the first twenty minutes or so, and had a good time splashing in puddles with her alligator boots. When her legs started buckling we transferred her into the backpack, where she rode along happily, eating prawn cocktail crisps and rubbing her greasy hands on daddy’s hair. She nodded off just as we reached the pub, and we managed to transfer the backpack to an empty seat without waking, and she lolled there, snoring softly, while we had our drinks. She didn’t even wake when Adam put the pack back on, slept on the car journey home, and had an extra half hour’s sleep when we got in. Gotta love those nap days! |
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| March 1, 2003 It was Martha’s birthday party today, so after lunch we strapped a protesting Nova into the carseat and set off for Hitchin. It’s the first time we’ve seen them since Wales and I was a bit apprehensive about how the little girls would get on. When I asked Nova if she wanted to visit Martha, she cried, “NO!” with a look of real alarm on her face. She’d been asleep only 15 minutes by the time we arrived, and she was pretty dozy and clingy at first. Jane and Nick were there as well, and had made a most impressive cake — a two-layered affair with cream and jam, studded with sprinkles and smarties, and with a decided lean to the left. It looked like something out of a cartoon. After picking the smarties off, Martha lost interest in her piece, but Nova steamed through an adult-sized portion. Martha had got a little tent/house for her present, and both girls enjoyed playing with it. Nova tended to wait until Martha was distracted with something else before she’d dare to venture it. There were little funny face pizzas for the girls’ dinner. Again Nova chowed down on hers while Martha sent her bowl sailing across the table untouched. (It is a mystery how she’s come to weigh twice as much as Nova — they were exactly the same birthweight, and are only a few months apart in age.) We put the girls in the bath, and it was the first time they’ve actually played together. There was a little plastic tea set and they took turns pouring water into each other’s cups. Nova, of course, actually drinking her cups of tea. We had a adult dinner while the girls watched a video, then set off about 8pm. Nova was asleep within minutes, and we managed to transfer her successfully to her cot without waking her when we got home. |
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