It has been such a long time since I have written a post devoted to our simple memories. The last time I did this was 14th March 2016. Daisy was not even born. Our family remained unchanged. We have been through a lot since then.
It’s no secret that adjusting has been hard. Of course it has. Babies are hard. And it just so turns out that our little baby needs a little extra from us sometimes. But it’s okay.
I am feeling much more healed now. Does that make sense? It’s almost like a physical pain would be. Like when you sprain your ankle and you can start to bear weight and move around again. Except, sometimes, I overdo it, and that can take a toll on my head and my heart. But I’m actually starting to relax. Muscle by muscle. And enjoy family life again.
Our weekends don’t seem very exciting at all. And sometimes, when I start to commit them to memory or camera, or even in words, I stop and wonder – who cares about all of this?
But I have to keep doing what I always do – and pretend you aren’t there. Because I care about this. I care about the way the light hit the flowers in our kitchen that day in August. Or the way Bill crossed his legs on the sofa while watching the iPad. Or the silly faces Daisy pulled at us, which are becoming all the more frequent!
On Saturday, we seemed to (as we are most weekends now) be very invested in making Bill happy. It’s almost like we have renamed it Bill Day. We do what we think will make him happy.
Like soft play.
Which doesn’t always mean we are that happy. But as long as there is coffee and food, you can’t complain really.
We have found a new one, nearish to us. The one in our village closed down, much to our dismay. It was so nice to have it on our doorstep. And now we have to travel about ten minutes by car. But, in all fairness, this new one is the size of an aircraft hanger. It’s huge. And full of things to throw yourself at. And go-karts too.
We ate lunch as a family. The rules go out the window there. Bill would nibble and play, nibble and play. But why not eh? It didn’t hurt anyone. And we quite enjoyed the peace – or as much peace as you can get with a baby girl who is adamant she has to be held up so she can bounce up and down on your knee. She’s growing so fast, you know? So fast.
Once we got home, Bill went out with Granny and Po as they treated him to his new dinosaur school shoes. And I nipped to the shops, alone, to get a few bits. Which in fact turned into a rather large shop and me disappearing for over an hour, prompting Mark to message me and ask: “Are you alive?”
But it was good to have some me-time. To browse the shelves. Let my mind run away with itself and think of meal plans and treats, and new salads I could create. Saving money and perhaps, hopefully, my waistline too.
You need that time I think. Now and again. Just to be alone. At least – as alone as you can be in a sea of people and shopping trolleys and check-out beeps.
I arrived home to a sleepy boy. He was doing puzzles and playing quietly. Only stopping to jump in the air when he finished one and high five us.
Daisy needed my arms to go to sleep. So I left the shopping in the hallway. It could wait. I enjoyed my family. And the food was fine – especially when I had a little helper to help me put it all away. Most of it ended up in the cupboard where the tins go. Which was amusing when I found a loaf of bread in there the next day.
This chocolate was actually sold at soft play and my word it’s good. If you like things a little on the healthier side, I’d give it a go. So good!
Saturday evening ended with books and homemade pizza for Bill. And wine and homemade curry for us. It was so nice to cook this weekend. I haven’t done it properly in such a long time and I felt so excited to be clanging and chopping away in the kitchen. The kitchen is my domain. My happy place. I love it there.
If you were wanting something to watch (and you have already seen Stranger Things), we can recommend The Get Down on Netflix. It’s pretty brilliant.
Sunday was Mark’s day to sleep in. He deserved it. He let me rest on Saturday morning and then even did the night feed on Saturday night so I could get a proper sleep. Don’t get me wrong, he was watching a UFC fight at 3:00am, so it worked out well for him, but I love him, and so I leave him to sleep.
I was woken around 6:30am, by a baby girl who has most certainly found her voice. She’s so loud from the minute she opens those big blue eyes.
We were joined shortly after by her big brother, around 7:15am. And we had a cosy half hour, cuddled up, chatting and playing.
You should see the love they have for each other. I mean – you almost can in these photographs. But oh if you could feel it. I feel it. It blows me away. They may be half siblings but there is nothing halved about their relationship.
We all needed feeding eventually. Daisy had breast milk from the freezer, as we were low on formula. And it was so strange to see those familiar storage bags again. It’s been a long time since I used any of my stash, as I was so worried that Daisy wouldn’t take to formula. Turns out she doesn’t care what she drinks – she just still can’t manage a full feed yet. So her feeding tube stays. But one day. One day it will be out. And then we can live life without glances in public. Melting away into the ‘normality’ of it all.
This was supposed to be avocado on toast with bacon and cherry tomatoes. But my ‘ripe and ready’ avocado, was more ‘rock and hard’. I wailed. But eggs always help don’t they?
Our morning scenes are ones I cherish. I quite like it being just us three, because I whizz around tidying up and making the house nice, and the children happy, so that when Mark comes down we are all ready to just be a family. Refreshed and relaxed. And together.
Daisy turned four months old on Sunday. I can hardly believe it. I used to sit by her incubator in hospital and wonder if I would really ever see a moment like this. It felt impossible. I need to make sure I write her update so we don’t forget a thing. I’m so proud of her.
Bill really cracked me up in the morning. Wanting to do Elf Yourself in the middle of August. So we had us all dancing to a Christmas song in the kitchen and oh how he laughed. He’s, what I would call, a right plonker.
We did some painting. And a certain blonde-haired boy pretty much covered the entire kitchen in silver glitter. I didn’t mind it much. It had a unicorn touch about it. Mark however, spent ages trying to get rid of it. It did make me smile.
I did a rainbow with glitter clouds. So he just had to do one too, didn’t you Bill?
When Mark came down everyone sort of flocked to him like a bunch of excited puppies. I stood in the doorway, just watching my family. And I wondered whether it would stay just us four, or whether we might grow again one day. I feel like we might. But for now I am so content to watch my three. And just appreciate their smiles and noises, and the way they just fit together.
They were watching an animal documentary together and they may as well be one in the same sometimes. Look at those feet. They are so wonderful together. You might wonder what their relationship is like. But you can’t find a fault with it.
I decided to make my first roast since Daisy was born. It hasn’t been the weather for it really – but the rain came down on Sunday and I just felt like challenging myself and just getting lost in oven timings and seasoning and whether everything was ‘just right’.
It was lovely actually. I did a good job. And it was a big deal for me. I like finding normal moments again. Like I lost them but they were right there all along.
I had a packet of Angel Delight in the cupboard so I made a kiddy version and a more adult version for me and Mark. It was really good. And we ate it on the sofa – like a bunch of kids – watching Monsters Inc.
I think Daisy was a little miffed I didn’t make her a bowl. But you start weaning next week sweetheart (for medical reasons before anyone panics) so it won’t be long until you have a bowl of something all your own.