Cream Crackered

In a word, knackered.  While I had an enjoyable Easter holiday with family and friends in Wales, it wasn’t as relaxing as one would imagine.  There were the visits and the catching up, something I remember dreading as a child when at family reunions I was forced to rub elbows with people little better than strangers despite the blood ties.  Nowadays, I look forward to such social visits, the swapping of stories and musings, to the good natured teasing, to watching the delight on people’s faces as they coo at Dylan and jump at the chance to hold him.  Which of course is extremely exciting for the little one, and his head swivels from side to side, eyes darting as he tries to take in his surroundings before they disappear.  In his enthusiasm, he winds himself tighter than an 8 day clock, and quickly reaches the point of saturation; and thus, crankiness combined with strange surroundings mean a restless night’s sleep – for everyone.

Dave and I have agreed to rotate lying in days.  Unfortunately, once I reach a certain point of wakefulness, I cannot go back to sleep.  (It irritates me something chronic that Dave doesn’t suffer the same and is capable of easily dropping back off for another hour or so.)  On weekdays, I’m up by 6:30, out the door at 7:30 and at the office just after 8.  Because of construction on one of the main (ie busiest) roads in the city, the bus ride home take twice as long.  When I walk through the door, I’m anxious to hold my little boy, to play with him and figure out how to make him laugh again.  But he’s fast approaching saturation point, and by 8pm he’s having his last bottle and being put to bed.  I then come down for dinner and a flurry of essential chores before my energy takes a nosedive, and I crash land on the couch.

And when I do eventually drag myself up to bed, it is with the knowledge that I will be awoken some time between 1 and 5am by a fretful baby.  Even though we agreed Dave would handle these nocturnal adventures on the weekdays, I’m still wakeful until Dylan is settled once again.

So I suppose it’s no wonder I’m having trouble typing this post, that my vision is blurring, and mental coherency is a foreign concept.  I think it’s time to just give it up and  crawl gratefully into the blissful wonder that is a comfy bed.

G’nite all!

Baby Vacation

This past week, we’ve been visiting relations in North Wales – and everyone enjoyed the visit.

We started the weekend at Dylan’s godparents’ house.  The boys watched the baby while Sue and I went to see The Lovely Bones (We weren’t hugely impressed with it and will be re-reading the book shortly).  There was an evening of Mariocart – shockingly, I beat Sue TWICE!  🙂 – and some lovely meals (they are excellent cooks).

From there, we headed to the in-laws’.  Each day was a good balance of activity and leisure time, with tempers on a generally even keel.  Not only did Dave’s mum treat us to tasty pub lunches, she made her signature dish of cheese fondue and took me bargain shopping (the previously mentioned clothes and books).  On Thursday, Dave went out with his father on a climbing expedition up the snow-covered mountains; he decided to get down the quick way…. on the sledge.  (I told him if he broke his leg again, I would break his other one for him.)  Meanwhile Trish and I bundled the baby into the car and had a good mooch through the discount bins at Abakhan, a large fabric/haberdashery/crafts centre near Holywell, where I picked up scrapbooking supplies, bags of felt and stuffing for toys, and ribbon.  Friday night, the grandparents took over so that Dave and I could have some adult time with his cousins.

We rounded the trip off with another visit to Louis and Sue, admiring their newest addition to the family – a beautiful ginger and white cat – and generally having a good chat.  Then it was back to Leicester, carting twice as much stuff as we originally took.

All in all, it was a very good week.  In a superb stroke of luck, the weather stayed mostly fine and bright.  We went for lots of walks, and I am well satisfied that we’ve all been able to benefit from the fresh air, a combination of ocean and mountain winds.  The countryside there is so beautiful, rippling sinuously from hill to valley and up again before sloping, sometime dropping, into the sea.  I always say that moving to Wales was like coming home, and I experience that feeling every time we go for a visit.  Coming over Rhiallt Hill, the traveller is greeted by a stunning view, in which the final bend of the road reveals a landscape of fields and curves, the mountains rising in the distance, and the sea sparkling to the right.  And there, at that particular spot, is when I feel love for this land most deeply.

This trip was precisely what I needed, almost a kind of re-fuelling before I return to work and it turns into a whole new ballgame.  I have plenty of books and craft supplies to keep me occupied, and so many ideas that it’s hard to know where to start!  And, with the positive influence of a much-needed break, I will be in a much better position to enjoy my remaining time with my husband and son.

Can you tell I’m in a good mood?