Tag: Work (Page 1 of 6)

Thursday evening

I have just returned from my 4.50pm race to the Post Office to send my work files in via an Express Post envelope. If I got there later than 5.05pm, I would be driving all the way there and back tomorrow. Far from ideal. I am beginning my fortnight of extra work while SoFrenchySoChic is away checking out the red centre. And for some reason I feel strangely untroubled.

Today has been a ‘Daddy Access Day’ which is my sarcastic description of M’s normal one day a week that he becomes primary carer and I work. This is because, on those days, Small Z is always taken to the pool, and usually to the park at least once – as well as having ongoing play sessions in the loungeroom (which, for lack of furniture, is actually the playroom) and/or the garden.

M’s focus is totally on Small Z, and while I cannot fault this, I do poke him to do a few things around the house at the same time. It’s that multi-tasking thing. I feel like I spend many days with Small Z trailing around behind me as I hang washing, bring it in, sort out dinner, wash up, tidy the skanky house, shop for groceries and attempt to locate the kitchen. Rarely do I spend the whole day devoting the whole time to her. It’s all about perceived priorities.

Probably to combat my evil thoughts, I bought him three stubbies of beer at Post Office/General Store, and when I got home (as if he suspected impending reward) he was washing the dishes. I feigned horror;

“Aren’t you supposed to be minding Small Z?? You haven’t left her playing by herself?”

He was about to respond with something cutting, but I clinked the bag I was carrying and watched him transform. Oh wondrous beer, a passport to a life of harmony and sunshine. I have since retreated to the computer to send off an email to Lola at work, which reads:

Have included a letter in files by mistake. It’s addressed to a guy I was going to buy a $61 piano from via eBay. Have reneged, and offered him $20 to NOT damage my eBay reputation. Are you able to open it, put in $20 from petty cash, and post it on its way? And dock my pay accordingly?

There is the sound of pesto being made in the kitchen. “Pethstoe,” pipes Small Z, “Pethstoe?” Then there is a yelp. “Mama! Mama!!!”
She is sitting up at the kitchen table dipping bread into a bowl of pesto that M has just made. She must be occasionally bumping one of her THREE teeth that are pushing their way through – and thus the occasional yelp. The kitchen smells divine from the stew I’ve had on for hours in the slow cooker, perfect for such a rainy day.

There’s Marlborough white in the (new-to-us) fridge. I did some computer stuff for Lola few weeks ago and requested payment in alcohol. A request perfectly realised. Now I just have to get gunning on making the caravan curtains, so we can slumber behind them in a Preston driveway on Saturday night. Thanks for that fabric, Rae! Cheers all!

Small improvements

A day that could have been revolting due to mega insomnia the preceding night was made not so by M going out and getting me the favourite tea bags, my next door neighbour giving me a dozen roses for no particular reason (in case this sounds odd, she works some weekends at a flower farm) and then to top it all off, M bought me some dhal from the organic grocery, which was great with rice and plain yoghurt. The imminent arrival of Small Brother tomorrow is helping things along as well….

The best kind of roses - the ones for no reason at all...

…and in retrospect I realised I had been a bit down on myself about my work over the past few months. It only took one day of real tiredness to recognise how hard it is to work efficiently…and how much more distractible I become.

Bon Voyage. Gah.

Today my mother, who has been coming every Wednesday morning and staying over in the caravan that night – donating at least a day and a half to helping me with the two little ones, made her exit. Not for good! But still… she’s heading off on a trip that includes a 12 day cruise on something that looks less like a ship than a floating metropolis.

I am aghast. Wednesdays and half of Thursdays are my islands – not of sanity exactly, but some respite from feeling almost constantly torn between Small Z, Small DB and my almost constant desire to decamp to a tropical island nap. Anyway, now I’m back in the real world – although I do have far more flexibility with M being around than a lot of people whose partners work fulltime. Thing is, every hour he is not at that boat, the longer the BOAT as a HUGE HULKING ENTITY, weighs down upon us.

So yeah. Next Thursday morning, when Small Z pops up out of bed for the day, I won’t be able to tell her to trot out to the caravan where her Nana will read her inumerable books before breakfast. Because that Nana will be swanning around some buffet in the middle of some far distant sea. For almost a MONTH. Poor Small Z has already asked on several occasions when she will be back, and I had to show her the picture of the ship to remind her.

This is all bringing into my mind what is going to happen when I go back to work. The LAST thing I want to do is drag M away from the boat, but I don’t want to lumber the help (i.e. my mother) with TWO children. That’s a bit much. I remember all too clearly how hard things were when I went back to working two days a week from home when Small Z was three months. It nearly killed me – I had thought it would be such a breeze. FAIL. Anyway, I need to stop arseing around and decide what it is I’m going to do – Family Day Care? Three year old kinder? Neither? My head hurts… Hurry home mum!

Ear buds.

This is Friday. This has been A. Hard. Week. M still has mild lingering strains of his cold from a few weeks ago. Small Z spent Wednesday and Thursday with her head tilted like an inquisitive bird – her neck was stuck and painful. We thought she had slept on it at an odd angle, but she has since been commenced on her first ever antibiotics and it seems that it was some kind of infection.

Small DB ran a temperature all Tuesday night and Wednesday. Thursday morning I woke up feeling like I’d been dragged on a rope behind a car. Sore joints, thumping head. Do I get sick days? I do not. So I typed. And then took Small Z to the doctor, which took over an hour. And then typed some more. I have sore bumps behind both ears that feel like I’m about to grow another set of backup ears. And I won’t miss them when they’re gone…

Thankfully my mother was here to do kid minding or it would have all been way too hard. Small Z’s doctor also looked at me and said I should try and get on top of my lurgy with lots of saltwater gargling, hot drinks and analgesics. I’ve been doing all that. AND I swallowed a clove of garlic. Whole. Peeled first, of course. I have fond thoughts of that clove, somewhere in there, working its anti-bacterial magic…go clove, go!!

Today Small Z had farm animals at kinder, and it was our turn to be the parent ‘helper’ for the day. I very much wanted to do it, but had extra work to do, and felt vile – so M went along *whimper* and I will go at the next opportunity. And I won’t take Small DB, as I planned to, but will ask M to take time off the boat to look after her. And that is how I sound when I’m feeling proactive!

My extra work is done. Tomorrow morning I see my sublime new osteopath for whom I have left my physiotherapist in the dust. And then we have been invited to an afternoon ‘solstice’ party…in the NEXT STREET! Oh my god! Is this our first locally located social outing? After living here for 18 months? I think it is. How completely refreshing to be able to walk to a social engagement that is also happening at a kid-friendly hour! And there will be mulled wine. So things are getting better. Get thee behind me, week of crud! (Birth of Small Nephew is excluded from crudness – obviously. He was highlight.)

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