Tuesday, January 20, 2015

phrases, phases, gigs and running

A couple of things.

These are the phrases you end up filling your weekends with
Where is the muslin
Where is the dummy
Where is the Calpol
Where is the bottle
Where are the nappies
Where is his hat
Did you bring his lunch
Did he sleep
Did you put vitamins in his food
How much milk has he drunk
Did he eat all of his food
Did he do a pooh
Did you find his socks

We have created a new tradition in our little family. (While saying the above sentences over and over again. I suspect we will be doing this for years to come). But every Sunday, we do brunch. We go out and get our errands done, and then we pick a new spot in which to eat. The spot must be new, it must be fucking great, and they must stock a highchair.

We feed Sebastian, and then we guzzle our brains out. Last week was Honest Burgers, the week before was Bill's. A lot of new and very exciting, well established and popular joints have opened up in our area recently, and we have gone back to embracing the brunch.

After having a baby, you don't brunch like you used to. Now, we plop Sebby in his chair and he dines with us.

Well, that's when he eats. My child is still on hunger strike.
But he left me a little reminder that he still somewhat takes a drink, by spewing milky yack all over me this morning and I have only noticed it on my clothes - at work - now.

I am also sad. For whenever I see him, he starts crying. Sees mummy and bursts into tears and starts having a fit.  He is fine with daddy and the nursery insists he is all smiles during the day there, but come the evening when he is buggered and the morning when he is sick and I have to bundle him in five layers of clothing (it's -1 outside), he cries and cries.

So whenever I see my child, he is crying.

How long will this last I wonder? It's heartbreaking.

I wish he would get his appetite back too. I miss his little leg doughnuts so much. Not to mention his smile. Or being able to read him a bedtime story because he hasn't fallen asleep from exhaustion.

I went to a gig.

Actual. There I was. The only 30something mummy, in the heaving throng of Brixton Academy, watching a Die Antwoord concert. Surrounded by a group of Irish folks. It was as surreal as you can get.
My Favourite Irish Gay Friend is a cult follower; I know three songs.
We dressed up, grabbed some tacos from a Mexican hole in the wall, (eating. V. important), and then we headed into the craziness that is their die-hard followers and Die Antwoord.

They are nuts.

The stage setup included a massive blowup baby with a boner. Not even joking.
 My mate took the photos, I was kind of gaping at the bass. The bass was oomcing oomcing, and I could hear her weird little voice over it, just about, but if I didn't concentrate, it felt like a lot of noise.


They are also downright creepy. This guy with the mask on the screen will forever haunt my dreams. I might've been the only person to go to a gig without actually being a fan, but it was nice to do something different for a change. Might even go and download some choonage now.

I'm still running

And I feel less insane.



4 comments:

Anonymous said...

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx remember it's harder for you than it is for Sebby - trust me - i feel the same heartbreak when my 4yr old leaves reception class exhausted because he doesnt like the school lunches so won't eat, when he can't zip up his coat properly or tie his laces or scarf and so comes out all bedraggled and snotty - it's so hard because we can't be there to make it better - but i am sure that when we aren't there they are doing just fine xxxxx

Anonymous said...

I keep wanting to comment, but it seems so empty. Good luck! You're an awesome mom. Of it makes you feel better: My 11month old is at home, with me. Suddenly not eating, crying when he sees me, tantrums etc. Smiles for nanny and daddy. So I guess they're smart enough to do it with us, because moms love going on guilt trips. ;)

Anonymous said...

After seeing Die Antwoord live myself, I wondered if I didn't need an exorcism?

Unknown said...

Thats Leon Botha on the screen.That aint no mask. ;)
http://boingboing.net/2011/06/06/in-memoriam-leon-bot.html