This afternoon I have mostly been tired and emotional. Sorry Euan. I officially kicked myself up a gear today because friends were coming to give the boy a birthday present and check in on my pathetic condition. So I got up before 10am, put actual clothes on and even broke out a bit of eye liner.
The novelty value gave me the impetus to get some potatoes in the oven, make a round of hot drinks and thoroughly enjoy the sight of Sam's favourite big kid friends making him feel like one of them.
I got to gossip with the person who once brought me to happy tears by describing me as an Ugg Boot. She is by far my favourite acquisition through marriage (she went to school with Euan!) and I always feel like I can go ahead and confess my neuroses to her without her reaching for the panic button.
The dads kindly took the gang to the park and chatting with her about the past week or so and about having to rethink my whole birth plan helped get myself back on the right page. I even managed not to blub about the fact that I was dreading the thought of not being chilled out and in my own home when this baby makes an entrance.
She's not the only friend that's been on hand this week. On Wednesday, Danger Toddler's female equivalent stopped by with her mum, my favourite local organic toddler chef. Who brought not only freezer portions of shepherd's pie and cake but also DVDs for Sam diversion when Euan goes back to work. And then she listened to gory details of stitches and staples and didn't go green when my tiredness allowed me to get talking about expressing colostrum. I should really be handing out humanitarian awards.
On Sunday Sam was entertained by his most laid back buddy whose mum had brought thoughtful birthday gifts and stories of her business venture to take my mind off feeling like a rag doll coming apart at the seams.
I've lost count of the messages to see how I'm doing and the offers of help with everything from my laundry basket to Sam wrangling from friends near and far. It's been a beautiful reminder of how lucky I am and how hard this mummy business without a network of support. It's a cliché for a reason that it takes a village to raise a child.
I should also point out that if I wrote about how fantastic our family have been, this blog would quadruple in length! Thank you!!!
But now I'll concede in writing that my husband is right and I need painkillers and a nap. The painkillers are just strong enough that I'll drift off to the sound of The Rembrandts in a nostalgic haze...
The novelty value gave me the impetus to get some potatoes in the oven, make a round of hot drinks and thoroughly enjoy the sight of Sam's favourite big kid friends making him feel like one of them.
I got to gossip with the person who once brought me to happy tears by describing me as an Ugg Boot. She is by far my favourite acquisition through marriage (she went to school with Euan!) and I always feel like I can go ahead and confess my neuroses to her without her reaching for the panic button.
The dads kindly took the gang to the park and chatting with her about the past week or so and about having to rethink my whole birth plan helped get myself back on the right page. I even managed not to blub about the fact that I was dreading the thought of not being chilled out and in my own home when this baby makes an entrance.
She's not the only friend that's been on hand this week. On Wednesday, Danger Toddler's female equivalent stopped by with her mum, my favourite local organic toddler chef. Who brought not only freezer portions of shepherd's pie and cake but also DVDs for Sam diversion when Euan goes back to work. And then she listened to gory details of stitches and staples and didn't go green when my tiredness allowed me to get talking about expressing colostrum. I should really be handing out humanitarian awards.
On Sunday Sam was entertained by his most laid back buddy whose mum had brought thoughtful birthday gifts and stories of her business venture to take my mind off feeling like a rag doll coming apart at the seams.
I've lost count of the messages to see how I'm doing and the offers of help with everything from my laundry basket to Sam wrangling from friends near and far. It's been a beautiful reminder of how lucky I am and how hard this mummy business without a network of support. It's a cliché for a reason that it takes a village to raise a child.
I should also point out that if I wrote about how fantastic our family have been, this blog would quadruple in length! Thank you!!!
But now I'll concede in writing that my husband is right and I need painkillers and a nap. The painkillers are just strong enough that I'll drift off to the sound of The Rembrandts in a nostalgic haze...
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