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A week or two of full time work is about to begin. The work pants are mended, the childcare arrangements altered, the kid prepped, and the Bloke is readying himself for a week or two of juggling and cooking. Now all I need to do is get my sock needles back so I have commute-knitting ready. Sometimes you just have to turn everything upside down for a bit to remember why you usually do things the other way.
The boy at our house is not a baby anymore. Recently he has stopped breastfeeding (he wasn’t impressed), started buttering his own toast (very happy with himself), speaking more clearly and using lots and lots of words (including “cheers” when we give him a drink), and enjoying childcare. He’s also looking much more confident around older kids and starting to interact more with them.
Last night at a family dinner his cousin (who is only a few months older) tried to take the teddy he was playing with. My boy tried saying “No” very clearly, and when that didn’t work he pointed to the truck picture on his cousin’s jarmies. When the cousin looked down at the picture my little boy pulled the teddy out of his reach. Fortunately the cousin is a trooper and did not burst into tears.
All of these successes are very good and enjoyable for parents and make the bit about getting up at 3am jus’ coz more bearable. Actually, the 3am I can deal with, it’s the 3am, then 6am, then starting work at 9am that I have trouble with. Just in case you’re wondering, full-time work sucks. I’ve done one week. Only three to go.
I’ve been reading, not just for uni, for pleasure. It dawned on me the other day that, although my reading material might to the casual observer look rather diverse, it’s all really about the same thing.
Do you work to live or live to work? Read the rest of this entry »