Ah the multifarious joys of being back at work.
Actually it’s not too bad. Although I feel as wet as a wet rag left in a flooded mire of wet rot it’s almost pleasant to be back in the “outside world” of work and professional labour.
After Tom’s illness last week I really felt for a while that nothing else existed except dirty nappies, crying, sleeplessness and an all pervading sense of worry and dread. It was really quite depressing and for all work can give me the glums at the best of times, it is a glumness of a much different calibre. Lighter in a way. Cosmetic. You can keep it at a distance. When your children are ill it is horribly up-close-and-personal and there is absolutely no escape from it.
Which isn’t to say I wouldn’t much rather be at home right now. It was very hard saying goodbye to Karen and the kids this morning. We’re close anyway but nothing bonds you even tighter than adversity. It feels very strange not to have Karen around or to be feeding Tom. Or changing the odd fulsome nappy.
Instead I’m back to dealing with cack of a different sort. The usual complaints... Building issues. Plumbing issues. Electrical issues. All stuff that doesn’t so much as float my boat as blow it clean out of the water and then sink it with a massive broadside. Mr Hornblower your cabin awaits...
As for Tom. He’s much better. Not quite 100% but getting there. We actually had a diarrhoea free day yesterday and he’s begun to put on weight again. The only remaining vestige of the illness is a slight return of the colic about an hour after he goes to sleep at night. Luckily Karen’s got the knack for sorting that out but it’s not nice watching him cry and squirm with pain.
The only real blot on the horizon is Tom’s appointment at the doctor’s tomorrow. He’s booked in to have his second inoculation. Apparently it’s more common for babies to react to the second one so I daresay he’ll be feeling rough for another day or two afterwards. Poor kid. It seems to be one thing after another at the moment. It hardly seems fair.
But on a much brighter note... Tom has managed to make a very important and no doubt rather fun discovery over the weekend. He’s located his own toes.
I can only describe his delight as indescribable...
14 comments:
Dear Steve,
I'm 37 and still bite my own toenails.
Does this make me strange?
Please help.
Yours sincerely
Inchy
Inchy, you obviously possess a suppleness that your fellow 37 year olds can only dream of...!
Just wait until he can locate other bits....
Ah yes... the joys of being a boy! ;-)
Don't go there.
For me work has been a welcome break from battling with insurance companies over my lost car in the last couple of weeks (they want to give me about 50p for it, so I'm trying to use their own legal services wot I paid for for redress, simultaneously taking action against Oxfordshire Highways for their roadwork-treacherous road).
Know I should be grateful I survived with little more than whiplash, but sometimes it seems death is preferable to all this paperwork & endless telephone calls! Then again that's how insurance companies WANT you to feel so you go away meekly with their crappy settlement.
Glad young Tom is recovering at last though - a great deal more important than a stupid car and no mistake!
Ah, the joys of youthful innocence. I wish I could still get excited by my appendages.
That said, I did feel a frisson of satisfaction while clipping my toenails last night, so perhaps the child in me is still there somewhere.
Inchy, consider there left well alone!
Laura, hmm... death or bureaucracy? That is actually a tough one. Sorry to hear you've been given the run around by your insurers... unfortunately in my experience this seems to be their normal mode of operation. No consolation for you or your poorly car though. Hope you achieve a much deserved victory soon!
Rol, are we talking DIY toe jobs here? If this is where it all leads I may have to buy a decent pair of socks for my son...
> It was very hard saying goodbye to Karen and the kids this morning.
Yes, I know just how you feel. It must be hard for them, too...
> He’s located his own toes.
I can only describe his delight as indescribable...
Ohhh...! That's the happiest thing I've heard today! I wish I could have been there...! He must be lovely to watch... :-)
He is Eve, I've been looking at some photos of him today - prior to posting them off to my parents - and they've all made me smile. :-)
My 7 year old has hyper mobility and if all other career options fail then she will definitely get a jobi n a circus!
it's so sweet when they're fascinated by first their fingers then their toes...later they locate your purse and your money, your sex toys and some embarassing photos you stored on your hard drive. Enjoy these innocent pleasures my friend!
Don't talk to me about plumbing, Steve! Our upstairs loo still doesn't work properly, having had a broken cistern replaced. It leaks, only does half flushes, and the handle doesn't rise when flushed, but apart from that it's perfect!!
The plumbers in question have returned three times now, including a visit by the boss of what is supposed to be a reputable firm, and have subsequently demanded payment! A long letter has been written pointing everything out to them! Ongoing since before Christmas, need I say more?!!
Ally, I wish I had hyper mobility... I feel like I'm wading through treacle today...!
Emma, warning duly noted: will invest in security software for my PC on a par with that at the Pentagon. I.E. Not very effective at all and shielding far less porn from the eyes of the innocent...
TimeWarden, plumbers have long recognized that normal laws and rules do not apply to them. In fact they see themselves as a completely different race from the rest of us - superior because they can change a washer on a tap or locate your stopcock in the dark. They can, however, be worn down by attrition... so keep going my friend!
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