Six of one, and half a dozen of the other

[ailbhe]

I woke early enough, but lay around while Linnea rampaged through the bedroom, pulling books off shelves and filing them in the laundry basket and emptying a packet of cough lozenges one by one into my hand. I stashed them under the pillow. When I got up we had breakfast - porridge is greatly improved by application of a sliced banana - and I was a demon of domesticity; by the time we left the house shortly before ten, dinner was in the slow cooker, the bathroom and rear hall floors were washed, Linnea had had her nappy changed twice, the breakfast dishes were washed, and the whole house had been sort of quickly tidied. Those of you who knew me in my former life may rest assured: I'm much happier with my new alien brain.

We went to NCT coffee about 20 minutes' walk away in the rain which was fine - tea, conversation, meeting a woman who had a baby two weeks ago to the day and looks like a model. Maybe she is a model. But no-one can look that good after having a baby! She was lovely but I've forgotten her name.

Then I forced Linnea into the pushchair again and walked in to the town centre. En route I was drenched by a passing lorry. I walked the last ¾ mile wet to the skin all down my left side. Well, from elbow to knee, anyway. It was most upsetting. The first stop in town was the public toilet, and then I bought new trousers in H&M - the first pair of sale jeans I tried on fit, so I walked out of the changing room and paid for them without removing them. I felt much better after that, so went to Boots and discovered that they have a load of baby food on "clearance" because there was a buying error and they have stuff they can't fit on the shelves. I didn't get much but will go back tomorrow armed with a proper bag and get, um, much. And then to Sainsburys for borign groceries, and then to Woolworths for a toasted teacake and some bright tin buckets - white, yellow, orange and green. They looked like childish storage containers to me. Linnea thought they looked like stacking cups.

I bought some birthday wrapping paper ("Have a monsterous birthday!") and looked at and rejected a lot of cards.

When we got home she climbed onto the sofa a few times and mostly got down ok, but fell twice. The first time wasn't very nice - she fell against the fire guard and got a bit of a fright.

The second time was horrifying. She fell flat on her back and the back of her head hit the floor, hard. There was a moment of silence and then she started to scream. She screamed until she couldn't breathe, spasming and clutching me. I managed not to cry until she was calmer; I fed her, which is a wonderful panacea, and when she accidentally slid down my lap mid-feed and found herself near my tummy, she blew raspberries on it. Once she was running around like herself again, I called Rob and cried. It's the most frightened I've been for her for a very long time.

But then we played and did raspberries and had dinner. She likes rice. And Rob came home and I ate an awful lot of chocolate and I feel better. I intend to drink port tonight; even days without terrifying disasters are somewhat flashback-ridden these days, and the nightmares, they are breeding in my sleep...

So it was a good day with a few bad bits. That's the summary.

Comments

[datagoddess.livejournal.com]

Being wet sucks. Yay for finding a pair of jeans that fit on the first try!

Oh, yeah, horrifying sounds right! I'm glad she is OK. And what better sign of being OK than blowing raspberries on mum's tummy!!

Chocolate and port sounds like a good combination.

[griffen.livejournal.com]

a woman who had a baby two weeks ago to the day and looks like a model. Maybe she is a model. But no-one can look that good after having a baby!

Ah. Well, perhaps she carried the sproglet in a shopping bag for nine months? ;)

(is being silly)

[charlosmum.livejournal.com]

She fell flat on her back and the back of her head hit the floor, hard. There was a moment of silence and then she started to scream.

This happened to my daughter a handful of months ago. She hit the back of her head so hard, it sounded like a baseball cracking off a bat. It still turns my stomach to think of it. In five or 10 minutes, it was as if it had never happened. I might have worried about concussion, but she didn't black out or vomit, her eyes weren't glassy and she resumed her usual upright, lively self. Scary.

(Hello, by the way. I've seen you at the ladies' loo.)

[lovingboth]

We needed quite a few pillows and cushions on the floor near 'climbable' things...

[k425.livejournal.com]

YoungBloke still doesn't climb onto things but he does a cracking fall when he tries and it still makes me feel sick to hear that scream after the silence.

You're right about nursing helping the baby - and I really hope the chocolate and then the port helped you.

[pocketnaomi.livejournal.com]

I *so* empathize with the fear when your daughter falls. Grace slipped and hit her head against the stairway guard gate a couple of weeks ago, and cried a lot. Didn't bother me then much; I comforted her and then distracted her and all was well. Until about fifteen minutes later when I took her upstairs to feed her dinner, and suddenly saw that there was a tiny cut on her forehead and a huge black and blue lump there, where she'd hit, and I freaked out completely. Cuddled the bewildered child without mercy, phoned my husband in tears and begged reassurance that I wasn't a horrible mother for letting her fall or for not noticing, phoned my father to ask of a more experienced parent whether I needed to take her to the emergency room for this and how I could tell whether she might have a concussion, the whole bit. They eventually got me calmed down, and Grace was okay, though the bruise lasted for quite some time, but there was this hideous gut-churning feeling when I saw it that I can't forget.