Wednesday, 3 July 2013

Beef Aisle

I am never ill. When I say never, I mean rarely. I'm simply to busy to get germs and was somehow blessed with an iron constitution, the only decent thing my mother ever gave me my father used to say. But I am currently writing this while feeling on deaths door. Yesterday, while skulking around Sainsbury's trying to work out what healthy and quick meal's we can eat for dinner that aren't stir frys, I suddenly had the urge to throw up. I have been feeling dizzy and headachy for a few days but this was another level of horridness. I crouched down on the floor of the beef aisle while trying to work out how I would manage the situation in charge of a toddler. Did I have an empty bag I could puke into if necessary? Could I do it in the flap of the buggy's raincover? Wouldn't it be awful if this was baby's first memory? Me throwing up on his lovely round head next to a lump of cow tied in string? He'd most definitely be traumatised forever and certainly be a vegetarian. While trying to decide on where to vomit and whether I should continue shopping or just leave immediately, the Security Guard started sniffing around me, probably checking I wasn't shoving minced meat down my leggings. 'This is odd', thought I, 'I'm never ill'. So in defiance of my gurgling stomach and to avoid the beady gaze of Mr Security I finished the weekly shop (stir frys), and legged it home. On arriving back at base, I dumped baby in the garden, ran into the house and was sick. I don't know what is up with me, perhaps a bug, unlikely food poisoning but it has wiped me out and positively ruined my first day alone without the baby! At least I wasn't sick on the wee man though.

By the time the baby was asleep last night, all I wanted to do was crawl into bed and die, I was shattered. Being ill is rubbish. However, I had a few things I needed to do in preparation for baby's first full day at Nursery. Last week I had ordered him a little bag with his name on and some embroidered name tags for his clothes. The nursery girls will probably be sniggering about me behind my back when they unpack his things and see everything has his name sewn onto it, but I am so desperate to be the mum I didn't have I'm sure this wont be the last time I do something embarassing. Although, probably my name labels weren't the only thing the girls sniggered at. For starters, our baby has quite an unusual name, not to mention his favorite toys of 'Platypus' a stuffed toy Platypus, 'Auntie Pam' a stuffed toy lobster and his most liked foods of humous, tzatziki and the new favorite of sardines, I'm sure they don't see many of his kind round these parts.

I had rather hoped when I woke up today I would be feeling better as I had a long list of a combination of treats and chores that I wanted to do after I had dropped the little one off at 'Piglet Room' of the nursery:

* Get home, have a bath
* Remove chipped nail varnish and perhaps apply some more
* Go to town, meet friend for coffee
* Go home again, hoover the floors
* Eat one/two of the shortbread biscuits our friends brought us the other week
* Wash floors with excellent new floor steamer
* Hoover sofas in preparation for selling on eBay when new sofas arrive next week
* eBay some stuff
* Sandpaper the stairs
* Possibly do some ironing but more likely watch some 'Escape to the Country' with another shortbread
* Collect baby

However, the day has not panned out like that at all:

* Got home, had bath, felt ill
* Cancelled coffee with friend, boo
* Crawled back into bed, slept
* Woke up, ate Wiggys cold leftover stir fry from last night
* Collected baby

At least one of us had a good day though, the baby LOVED nursery. He cried once the entire time he was there and that was when I collected him to take him home! Apparently, he was very chatty (this is probably my fault, I've talked to him non stop since they day we got him home), he pointed at everything, everywhere, he ate ALL his lunch, played very nicely with the other children and wouldn't have his morning nap. Bravo little man, you have done me proud (apart from the nap bit). If you can do the same again next Wednesday I promise to not be sick and do my chores list. Also, those shortbread biscuits aren't going to eat themselves you know.

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