![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ailbheApprox 10 am, phone rings. Friend H with whom we have tentative plans assuming she's at home and not at work today. I say "You are at home - I'll call you back within an hour."
Feed self and both daughters, dress self (fabulous again today - red top, red snood worn much like a beret with fabulous new haircut, and beige skirt, to be teamed with red suede boots later) and both daughters, undress both daughters, clean, redress from skin out, phone H. Say we'd planned to go to the park but weather looks dodgy; Linnea wants to go to a bookshop. OK. She has no mobile so I arrange to have her call me at 1 pm, assuming that by then I will have arrived in town and at least started feeding myself and Linnea lunch.
11 am, start trying to leave the house to catch 11:27 train. Change two nappies, dress two daughters again, change another nappy which thankfully does not require a change of clothes, get Linnea's shoes on, persuade Linnea's reins on, pack nappy bag including a drink each for self and Linnea, put on fabulous red boots and find boring hairtie as snood impractical for town-centre. Linnea laments the loss of my Red Hat.
Somewhere in there I called Kew and renewed our membership, which will pay for itself in two visits, especially if we bring guests. I hope they get the paperwork to us in time for a visit this weekend.
We left the house at 11:45 to get the 11:57 train.
Linnea was as good as gold leaving the house - she opened the door for me, closed it after us, let me hold her reins and her hand without complaint, looked for cars when we crossed the road, pushed the button at the pedestrian crossing, did not run on the approach to the station, went up the steps ahead of me / behind me so that I could bump the buggy up backwards without letting go of her reins, and did not misbehave dangerously at all while we waited for the train.
Which was just as well, because at noon I called National Rail Enquiries to find out where the train was; I spoke to a pleasant and helpful gentleman with a furrin accent who assured me that the station wherein I was standing did not exist. I called again at about 12:15 and got a pleasant and helpful gentleman with a furry accent - "Where are you travelling from?" "Reading West to Reading, please." "What time?" "11:57." "Ah." *tappity tappity* "It's apparently delayed." "I had noticed. Is it cancelled?" "No, I don't think so, it seems to be stuck at Mortimer."
Two through-trains to London Paddington then passed; Linnea put her hands over her ears for them, and begged them to stop. She was very sad when they went away without letting us get on. "Where's my train? I need a get on it!" and "My train coming soon?" and so on. A Polish chap on the opposite platform found her very entertaining. When a train approached which I said "might be ours if we're lucky" she covered her ears, as usual, but this time she yelled STOP. "STOP! STOP, TRAIN! STOP!"
It did. I shall take her along more often. She has a useful skill.
We got off the train ok and I went to buy my ticket (our local station has a ticket office only open during rush hour at bank holiday weekends when there's an R in the month, or something). Linnea handed it to the man at the gate, who was delighted above and beyond the call of duty, and we went to get money. Then we went ot the cafe, where Linnea was overwhelmed by shyness and couldn't order her lunch, so I did it for her.
By now it was 12:55. We found a table and sat down with water and tea and waited for the nice lady to bring us our lunch. And in walked H with her daughter F.
The rest of the afternoon - at least, until 15:30 or so - was what you'd expect from two toddlers, two mums, one babe in arms, a cafe, and a bookshop. We bought one book because Linnea chose it by starting to take the stickers out of the back. I asserted myself at lunchtime and didn't allow F to lick Linnea's cutlery or plate, etc. H got to tell me her news in accelerated staccato format, which was, er, interesting, and nobody ended up dead. A success, therefore.
Then H went to a toyshop and Linnea and I headed home, with Baby Emer (Linnea argued the point, but I won). I put Emer in the hugabub and Linnea in the buggy, for a bit; I swapped them for a bit, but then Emer needed a feed, so I took her out and spent ten minutes arguing Linnea into the buggy. Eventually I was able to say "There's our bus, but we can't get on it because you're not in the buggy," and she got in. So I got on the bus holding Emer in one hand, with her latched on, and pushing the buggy with the other. I am not altogether sure how I paid the fare but I did. Then I managed to park the buggy and sit down and finished Emer's feed and put her in the hugabub and got us all off the bus and took her out again and fed her again while pushing the buggy and walking home.
When we reached the door Linnea refused to get out of the buggy. I can't remember how I dealt with that.
Then I changed Emer's nappy twice in quick succession, parked Linnea in front of the TV, put a chicken in the oven to roast, fed Emer, folded up the ring sling (I'd hung it to dry this morning), and eventually, after much faffing, got Emer in the sling. She threw up on it. Oh well; we washed it last night, we can wash it tonight.
The days are just packed.
Feed self and both daughters, dress self (fabulous again today - red top, red snood worn much like a beret with fabulous new haircut, and beige skirt, to be teamed with red suede boots later) and both daughters, undress both daughters, clean, redress from skin out, phone H. Say we'd planned to go to the park but weather looks dodgy; Linnea wants to go to a bookshop. OK. She has no mobile so I arrange to have her call me at 1 pm, assuming that by then I will have arrived in town and at least started feeding myself and Linnea lunch.
11 am, start trying to leave the house to catch 11:27 train. Change two nappies, dress two daughters again, change another nappy which thankfully does not require a change of clothes, get Linnea's shoes on, persuade Linnea's reins on, pack nappy bag including a drink each for self and Linnea, put on fabulous red boots and find boring hairtie as snood impractical for town-centre. Linnea laments the loss of my Red Hat.
Somewhere in there I called Kew and renewed our membership, which will pay for itself in two visits, especially if we bring guests. I hope they get the paperwork to us in time for a visit this weekend.
We left the house at 11:45 to get the 11:57 train.
Linnea was as good as gold leaving the house - she opened the door for me, closed it after us, let me hold her reins and her hand without complaint, looked for cars when we crossed the road, pushed the button at the pedestrian crossing, did not run on the approach to the station, went up the steps ahead of me / behind me so that I could bump the buggy up backwards without letting go of her reins, and did not misbehave dangerously at all while we waited for the train.
Which was just as well, because at noon I called National Rail Enquiries to find out where the train was; I spoke to a pleasant and helpful gentleman with a furrin accent who assured me that the station wherein I was standing did not exist. I called again at about 12:15 and got a pleasant and helpful gentleman with a furry accent - "Where are you travelling from?" "Reading West to Reading, please." "What time?" "11:57." "Ah." *tappity tappity* "It's apparently delayed." "I had noticed. Is it cancelled?" "No, I don't think so, it seems to be stuck at Mortimer."
Two through-trains to London Paddington then passed; Linnea put her hands over her ears for them, and begged them to stop. She was very sad when they went away without letting us get on. "Where's my train? I need a get on it!" and "My train coming soon?" and so on. A Polish chap on the opposite platform found her very entertaining. When a train approached which I said "might be ours if we're lucky" she covered her ears, as usual, but this time she yelled STOP. "STOP! STOP, TRAIN! STOP!"
It did. I shall take her along more often. She has a useful skill.
We got off the train ok and I went to buy my ticket (our local station has a ticket office only open during rush hour at bank holiday weekends when there's an R in the month, or something). Linnea handed it to the man at the gate, who was delighted above and beyond the call of duty, and we went to get money. Then we went ot the cafe, where Linnea was overwhelmed by shyness and couldn't order her lunch, so I did it for her.
By now it was 12:55. We found a table and sat down with water and tea and waited for the nice lady to bring us our lunch. And in walked H with her daughter F.
The rest of the afternoon - at least, until 15:30 or so - was what you'd expect from two toddlers, two mums, one babe in arms, a cafe, and a bookshop. We bought one book because Linnea chose it by starting to take the stickers out of the back. I asserted myself at lunchtime and didn't allow F to lick Linnea's cutlery or plate, etc. H got to tell me her news in accelerated staccato format, which was, er, interesting, and nobody ended up dead. A success, therefore.
Then H went to a toyshop and Linnea and I headed home, with Baby Emer (Linnea argued the point, but I won). I put Emer in the hugabub and Linnea in the buggy, for a bit; I swapped them for a bit, but then Emer needed a feed, so I took her out and spent ten minutes arguing Linnea into the buggy. Eventually I was able to say "There's our bus, but we can't get on it because you're not in the buggy," and she got in. So I got on the bus holding Emer in one hand, with her latched on, and pushing the buggy with the other. I am not altogether sure how I paid the fare but I did. Then I managed to park the buggy and sit down and finished Emer's feed and put her in the hugabub and got us all off the bus and took her out again and fed her again while pushing the buggy and walking home.
When we reached the door Linnea refused to get out of the buggy. I can't remember how I dealt with that.
Then I changed Emer's nappy twice in quick succession, parked Linnea in front of the TV, put a chicken in the oven to roast, fed Emer, folded up the ring sling (I'd hung it to dry this morning), and eventually, after much faffing, got Emer in the sling. She threw up on it. Oh well; we washed it last night, we can wash it tonight.
The days are just packed.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2006-09-20 06:41 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-09-20 07:10 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-09-20 08:07 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-09-20 08:13 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-09-20 09:48 pm (UTC)that sounds like an excellent day - may you have many of them - hopefully fairly soon with fewer nappy changes being required - and better, besides;
but it made this ppint. feel quite exhausted mentally, just reading it - hope you get a good night's sleep (if still necessarily punctuated for feeds).
(no subject)
Date: 2006-09-21 08:15 am (UTC)I hope you were able to rest well after such an expedition.
Well done.