Went out didn’t I? OUT OUT. With the other people and everything. In the FRESH AIR.
Christiaan and I decided at 5 this morning that the idea of paying £6 each to go to a “family day” in a pub car park with a couple of inflatables and a BBQ none of us would eat was probably a bit mental. I was kind of relieved, I had been aiming for it in terms of “this is the thing we will do on Saturday, because it is LOCAL and CONVENIENT” but really it sounded fucking awful – not to normal people granted, but people in our situation and with a kid like Eli it was social suicide. So we fucked it off.
We’ve got to be crafty with my energy reserves so it was a gentle start to the morning. Well as gentle as being up at 5am with a 3 foot Father Jack can be. Eli was crying back and forward last night, fuck knows whats up with him, back molars cutting maybe? Or he could just be an unreasonable little fucker… Anyway, he was restless and decided that he was absolutely 100% ready to be up for the day before any other fucker on the street. He’d pulled his socks off in protest, and that really is an Eli protest because that kid LOVES being cosy. He goes to sleep in a vest, jammas and socks under a 7.5 tog duvet when the house rarely gets below 18 degrees – he must be like a tiny glacier. Anyway, socks were off, fucks were not given and he wanted “Mummy, where’s my UP?” . People keep telling that I will look back on these days with fondness when he reaches the teenage abyss of wanking and sleeping. No Maureen I won’t. I will not lie awake at 5am every morning and miss being up playing with Dinosaurs off of China that look like giant dogs, or tripping over the ride on Hedgehog called Geoffrey. I won’t.
So we gave in and all trundled downstairs, not straight away mind, ONLY after he went round his entire bedroom squeezing everyone to say good morning. By everyone I mean the stickers on the wall. The stickers that are very much one dimensional and unable to be squeezed. I mean it’s lovely he’s so affectionate but I’d have preferred to be downstairs getting hot caffeine down my neck. Eventually we made it down and after he had his pissy nappy changed and drunk his milk, “JIGSAWS”. Jigsaws at any time of the morning should be frowned upon, they are an afternoon or evening activity but kids jigsaws at 5am should be actually illegal. Our day was mapped out for us though, and the only thing duller than kids jigsaws is sitting beside him as he rattles off every single animal, what colour it is, and what noise it makes from a box of fucked up looking animals. So I sat down and played with the fucking jigsaws just like my power hungry midget demanded.
I was determined I was getting out today, this week has been a pisser for being trapped in doors and my only outings since Tuesday have been to collect Eli from nursery and to the doctors… I was beginning to climb the walls. It was a shaky start to the day to be fair because I woke up feeling like I’d been hurtled down a mountain after drinking a bottle of gin; sore and hungover, which was surprising because I’ve not touched a drop in weeks. Once I’d had a chance to come round it was time to brave the shower and get dressed, sounds dead easy doesn’t that doesn’t it? I won’t labour the point because it’s dull but the short version is no, no it’s not easy.
We were up and showered and in the park by 9am. It’s the best time of day to be there, it’s generally only people walking dogs or joggers that are around and thankfully Eli’s stopped, almost entirely, chasing the joggers. There’s nowt more Benny Hill than a Mum with M.E. attempting to chase a toddler who was unsteady on his feet as he chased a jogger in very tight lycra. Thankfully those days seem to have passed.
The sun was shining but it wasn’t quite in “burn your eyes out” mode just yet so we chose to walk through the wooded area of the park and then give Eli a wee 5 minutes at the play park bit. We saw squirrels and took deep breaths and I swear we have increased our life expectancy by just being out IN NATURE. I managed an hour – OK OK so it’s a walk that would take the majority of you 25 minutes but in my defence, I’m shit, and I have a toddler who was distracted by every squirrel and dog and flower he saw; exactly the way he should be at this age. He is also OBSESSED with finding a Stick Man as soon as we enter the park, it’s Christiaan’s designated task and as soon as he’s completed it the transformation from Eli into tiny tiny Gandalf is complete…… well until he declares “finished, bye bye Stick Man” and launches it; we’re lucky he’s not hit anyone yet.
I find it both really lovely and really odd looking at that first picture. If I saw me walking round the park I’d presume I had life made; my wee boy was holding my hand, he was happy, my husband was smiling proudly taking a picture of us and the sun was shining, and actually, this morning, I did feel like the luckiest woman out there. Life is precarious for most of us, illness of not, and you’d be daft to stay in the martyr camp when you can choose to be out and living; even if that is at a slower place than others. In the words of the great man himself Irvine Welsh: I choose life.
Now it’s one thing choosing life, but its quite another choosing to look like a tit while you live it so I’d just like to say, for the record, that Eli demanded to wear that hat, it was not part of my plan. He fucking loves it. I’ve no idea why, but if that’s the way he wanted to roll this morning who am I to argue? I’m still wearing pants from nearly 3 stone ago, they fall down when I walk and have turned from black to a “given up on life” kind of grey – he might piss and shit himself but Eli has bags more style than me. I love that he’s making choices about what he wants to wear now, it’s a right interesting wee side to his personality. I reckon I’m going to be that mum walking round Sainsbo’s with their kid in fancy dress though because….. well why the fuck not? I love a bit of accessorising myself and if he’s got the balls to wear a tutu and a crown along side a Hulk t-shirt then I’ve got the balls to be proud of him for styling it out.
So, gorgeous, lush morning. OK so we had to adapt what we were doing to fit my capabilities but we pulled it off right?
I think we all know whats coming….We may have pulled it off but I’ve fucked myself. Course I have. That hours walk brought back the icy goosebumps I’d just managed to shake off, has made me feel like I weigh 67 stone and crippled me in terms of bone pain. I’m losing my words tonight and I’m so so tired. I wonder who the fuck is pulling the strings up there sometimes you know, if I ever find them I will high five them. In the face. With a ladder. Anyway it was painkillers and a lovely sit down when we got back and Eli was down for his nap and actually… I’ve not really managed to get back up again.
I’ve changed the venue though, let it not be said that I am a lazy bastard only in the house. Oh no, I can move my lardy arse outside too – my slovenly behaviour shall not be contained by walls and a roof alone. I can’t say I wanted to but it’s really not fair on Eli to have him trapped indoors on day like this. So we went into the garden. Now my garden probably isn’t like yours. My garden is shit. Concrete shit. I never get tired of wondering who decided that a tiny garden was the right sort of garden for this size of house; a house that could easily house a very large family. It makes no sense. It has absolutely nothing going for it. It’s kind of stuck in the armpit of the house with no view of anything at all. Nothing. It’s walled in. It rivals a prison yard… with daffodils. It’s also rammed with steep concrete stairs and split levels and at best is really dangerous for little legs, but it was that or stay indoors….and I was not going to watch another Bing fucking Bunny. We’re going to need to something with the garden going forward to be fair, but its quite far down the list of priorities so we’ll stick with the luxury items like fixing the roof before it caves in and kills us.
So we went out. Christiaan got my sun lounger out because he’s a gent like that and we sat outdoors for an hour or so; Christiaan in a t-shirt looking all appropriate for the weather and me with my huge sun glasses to protect my eyeballs, and my many layers on in the baking sun trying to keep warm. I’m 99% sure it would look like Christiaan stole me from an institution to anyone who didn’t know us. Not that we had to worry about that, no fucker can see us in the garden of grey. It mattered not one fuck to Eli, he was loving it; I’d made him a wee picnic, we had his trampoline out, he drew on the slabs with chalk and got soaked to within an inch of his life playing at his water table. It sounds so incredibly dull to you I bet, and something other people maybe do a lot at home…. but we haven’t, for lots of different reasons, so it was special for us and a really lovely way to chill out for a bit.
The highlight of the afternoon was a glimpse into Eli’s future. He was deep throating a chocolate cornetto and emerged victorious with a chocolate goatee. Coupled with his trilby, which he STILL wouldn’t take off he looked about 35…. until you added the soaked trousers and nappy into the equation; he could have easily passed for a marginally younger Tom Jones.
So I’m broken. No real surprises there I don’t think but was it worth it? Fuck yes. Every day that I manage to be even a shadow of the person I was before I got ill is an absolute gift. Although I didn’t have a kid back then which I guess means I look like I stole one… apart from that though; winner.
Eli’s day ended on a high when my folks popped in just after he’d had his dinner. He loves both of his grandparents but he has a really special connection with my dad. They laugh, and giggle, and chase, and sing and its just lovely to be around and watch. And watch we did, we’d had to entertain him from 5am, it was definitely someone elses turn now. HAPPY DAYS. He’s gone to bed a happy lad, hyper mind but a mind full of memories of the day and it’s only on days like today that I feel he hasn’t had to sacrifice anything because Mummy’s not well. Today is a good day, even if payback is a twat.
- We had a really lovely family day
- Eli was on good form…. although he’s still not asleep and he should be given the amount of activity and fresh air he’s had
- I REALLY enjoyed my dinner
- Payback – nuff said, no point in whining, it’s just life
- Tomorrow will need to be a quiet day
- I really really wanted to eat all of the things ALL DAY (I didn’t but it’s been distracting me) and I think it’s because I didn’t eat enough
- Whats on the menu Mellars?
- Breakfast – boiled egg on a slice of wholemeal
- Lunch – Melon and yoghurt (I know, not a real meal but I wanted something easy to pull together)
- Dinner – meatballs with tomato and sweet pepper sauce AND pasta