I’m working again, just one day a week at the moment which is both chaotic and A Good Thing. Chaotic because it’s a totally new job (which I wont talk about here) so there’s a learning curve plus the nanny we’re hoping to hire isn’t available until mid-May. It’s A Good Thing because it takes the single wage earner pressure off Cory and will make me so much more employable when the boys are in school full time.
Last week it was brilliant, as Cory was offshore all weekend so they got to spend a day with him after missing him for three nights. (Thank goodness he wasn’t offshore on Thursday when the ash started – it’s been a crap weekend for a friend of mine whose husband is away, hopefully he’ll be home today). But when I stopped work there was chaos – I forget that I’ve had over two years of practice at this stay at home gig and Cory’s still finding his feet. Yesterday went smoother and the boys all reported an excellent day. Fingers crossed that once the stress of getting up and running dies down, this becomes a real positive.
Speaking of offshore, we just saw a helicopter from the garden and did a happy helicopter dance. I hope they get all the flights back to normal quickly – the uncertainty has been hard on some families here.
Photo: at Heligan Garden.
This month was the month we went on our annual holiday with Nana and Papa, and for you it was an all-new experience. We missed our trip back to Canada in October because of your hernia surgery so you hadn’t been on an airplane since you were six months old. And this was a great age to fly with you to share your excitement, because you can now tell us in sentences how much you’re enjoying things. Unfortunately it also meant that everyone in the plane could hear exactly why you were screaming on landing “Let me out! Mummy, let me out!”. I was glad it was Daddy’s turn to hold you….
The beach was also another first for you – or at the least the first trip for six months. Keeping you out of the water was a bit challenging, every time we’d let go, you’d dash out to the waves to play. Which would be lovely if the temperature had been a bit higher above freezing…. But even so, it was wonderful to run after you and pick you up at the last second and hear your squeals of glee!
Travelling with an almost 22 month old is starting to get easy too. You slept well in the holiday cottage we’d rented and even decently in hotel rooms with uncomfortable travel cots. Good sleep still means early rising, but combined with the time change, 5:30 became 6:30 and Daddy and I even managed a couple of lie-ins apiece. A neighbouring cottage had a family with two kids a year younger than you and your brother and when we’d bump into them it reminded me of how difficult things were just a year ago. Neither of their girls were sleeping well and we got the feeling that the parents were soldiering on each day determined to have a holiday even if the accumulated sleep deprivation was growing. If I ever get broody – remind me of this.
And finally meals out at restaurants are possible. Maybe only at lunch and we never dare to order a starter, but we did have the chance to have several nice family meals, including this one (photos) in St. Ives. I’m not sure I actually saw a single picture at Tate St. Ives though, as they’d alarm systems set up to go off if you walk too close to the paintings; our visit felt more like an exercise in herding sheep.
The farm cottage we stayed in was fab for you and your brother, perfect for young families. (Young as in children, not parents). A soft-play barn, animal feeding every morning, and even weekly pony rides made this such an easy place to holiday. You weren’t too thrilled with the pony ride though (photo), and barely made it around the corner before you threw yourself off and into daddy’s arms. The amazing thing is how you’ve edited this experience in your memory. When Duncan talks excitedly about his pony ride, you chime in with your story too: “Fraser rode a pony” and if asked if you liked it, respond “yes!”
I hope all your memories of this trip as as wonderful and especially those of Nana and Papa and the cuddles you shared with them at the end of the trip stay in your head until we see them again in August. The only thing that makes me sad about living here in Scotland is how rarely we see family. Watching you get to know them is bittersweet; wonderful that it’s happening, but sad that it needs to happen at all. Maybe in August we can just pick up from where we left off.
We’ve been on vacation in Cornwall with my parents. We’re back, but disorganized with a bathroom 90% of the way to being finished, laundry still to do, and pictures still to download from cameras. The boys loved the week with Nana and Papa though and there were some definite highlights… but it’ll have to wait a few more days…