My paly pasty shoulders are sporting their first strap marks of the year. That’s a British bank holiday for you. In between liberally applying the aloe vera lotion I’ve been looking back, reminiscing even – if you can do that after three days – on our weekend.
Friday will have to be but a distant blur because I can’t actually remember what we did.
On Saturday morning I must admit that I enjoyed a few baby-free hours pottering around town. A ridiculously early 8.30am hair appointment quickly became completely unnecessary due to my hair strand test reacting pretty violently with their colours…well I say violently; we’re not talking explosions and chemical warfare here, but at least as violently as it was possible to be, in a hair-getting-hot-fizzing-and-breaking-in-half kinda way. I killed time by enjoying an Actual. Hot. Coffee and breakfast in the beautiful House of Fraser Tea Terrace then made a quick detour to order some ridiculously expensive wallpaper before going back to the hairdresser’s for a cut. I’ve had the same long (read: lank, heavy and shapeless) hair for about fifteen years so I went for the chop. It’s much cooler and less in the way but I can never say that without thinking of sheep-shearing.
Daddy had the final (finally!) two performances of the show on Saturday, so after dropping him off N and I spent a couple of hours at the cricket, her sporting her oh-so-cute cricket jumper from Baby Gap’s Peter Rabbit collection (OK so it’s meant to be for a boy but my cricket upbringing couldn’t resist!).
Yesterday was N’s final session of this term at Baby Swimming. She is still a complete water baby and so loved it despite a brutal five underwater dunkings! She even got a little certificate🙂 Later in the afternoon we enjoyed lunch with a few other couples from our NCT group, N being impeccably behaved as ever and showing off her spaghetti, mac ‘n’ cheese, mushroom and apple-eating skills.
In another prematurely-middle-aged moment we spent a few hours at the National Trust’s Hatchlands Park today, scene of the Great Shoulder Strap Mark Incident of 2013. It was lovely to spend time with my brother and sister-in-law and our beautiful nephew, only four days younger than N. The bluebell wood was in resplendent full bloom; a very enjoyable (and welcomingly shady) walk marred only by the somewhat creepy Barbie-doll fairies dotted around the trees.
I’m spending the evening with my friends G & T, still in shorts as it’s so warm – poor N’s room is still around 26 degrees so she’s sleeping in nothing but a vest and Aden & Anais muslin tonight. Honestly, we complain that it’s cold, we complain that it’s hot; it’s the British way.
In the vainest attempt of remembering what we’ve eaten for the last few days:
Friday: no idea; Weetabix may have been involved
Breakfast: No idea; Daddy was in charge!
Dinner: Beef casserole
Tea: Beans on toast
Breakfast: Scrambled eggs on toast
Dinner (out with NCT friends): Home made cheese & broccoli muffin, few strands of my spaghetti with spicy tomato sauce, macaroni cheese, apple
Tea: Just milk – sleep was a priority!
Breakfast: Beans on toast
Dinner: Just milk again as we were out
Tea: lemon and chilli chicken, potatoes, baby sweetcorn, apple