Updated: May 17, 2020
11th August, 2018
Another Saturday that has not gone well. I went to bed around 8.30 again last night - or was it earlier? - and ended up falling fully asleep after feeding Isaac. I am so tired. But losing any free time in the evenings (because I don't count sleeping as free time) is making me feel really stressed and overwraught, if that's a word. The red squiggly line underneath it suggests no.
Anyway, another fairly bad Saturday morning. I even had my plans in place - something I've come to learn is vital. I had the hairdresser at 9 and then was going to take a break until 1. For a coffee or cake or whatever. I foolishly anticipated the luxury and excitement of the hair appointment, especially since the last one was so rushed and I had both tinies with me. I've always felt very indulgent and pampered at the salon. It's something I've never done very often. But I realise how good it makes you feel and I've finally found a brilliant local hairdresser (even if she has moved from the walk-able, on my very own road, salon to the get-in-the-car-for-20-minutes Bramhall). But Oh, what a fool I was! I would challenge anyone to have what feels like an indulgent time at the hairdresser with a 9-month baby. And a loud, boy baby who loves shiny things and wires, and putting small, shiny, dangerous things, and wires, in his mouth.
As I was having my foils done and Isaac was wriggling on my knee, poor Erin had to say several times 'keep your head still now'. She was very patient. When I heard the ominous words 'Come and have a seat now, Hannah', and was beckoned over for the foils out and hair wash bit, I wondered how on earth I was going to throw my head back, rest my neck between that gap in the sink and hold onto Isaac simultaneously. I was right to be daunted. It didn't work holding him on my knee. So I plonked him down with my bag, letting him take out whatever he wanted. And of course, he went for the iphone. Which he then speed-crawled off with and abandoned half way across the hairdresser's.
So I'm now home and rather exhausted (though my hair looks nice) and have sent Michael out with both children, before we go out somewhere this afternoon. I need a break like I've never done before.
We really do have to sort Saturdays though. It has become our fixed day for bickering. I always feel such disappointment, stress and anticlimax. The house is messy, we never know quite what we're doing, I usually feel tired and worn out and don't much feel like doing anything, other than hiding in a quiet cave. But this moment right now, with all of them out, and me writing in the silence, feels like bliss. I can breathe again. Even if my space bar is still only working if I put my thumb on one 5mm section - and that is infuriating. Writing makes everything feel better.
And on the bright side, the sun is shining and Styal will no doubt be beautiful. And after three extremely early nights, my body should be benefiting from all of the rest. I love being in Styal. The woods are truly stunning at this time of year, with the sunlight bright through the green leaves; and the feeling of space and fresh air and hope is like a medicine. I can't get enough of being outside when it's like that. It's like beautiful music. It takes my soul to another place. And it's a relief to know I still have one.
So my challenge for tonight is to go to bed in a planned way. I'd like to get into my pyjamas, please. And also brush my teeth, wash my face and generally enter bed in a civilised manner, rather than falling asleep in an unplanned and rather chaotic, haphazard way. And who knows? I might even pack my bag this evening and avoid the last-minute, trying-to-get-out-of-the-house packing. Apparently, it's much easier to do any job the night before, without the children. I wouldn't know, as three years in, I don't think I've ever achieved it. I'm not quite sure what life would look like without so much stress. What if I missed it??
Grace's line for today: 'Daddy, will you do an activity with me? I have lots of plans.'