It’s dark. It’s 11 o’clock. If I was sensible I would have gone to bed two hours ago to ensure a sane level of sleep. And I only have one of two home. Oh god. Yesterday I flew my first solo mission to outer Richmond with baby plus toddler as G was doing the duathlon in Richmond Park. I say solo but I was kindly joined by old friends Debbie and Dickon, who hiked all the way from north London in a show of support, plus their two kids Grace and Joseph who Lucas adored and has been talking about ever since. Jo because he is 4 and therefore Very Cool and Grace because she is 7 months younger than Lucas and Very Easy to Play With and boss about I suspect. I realised, as I hid in the shade and fed Beatrix (wondering why I had dressed her in a hot pink woolly suit on the hottest day of the year), that my son had reached nearly 2 and a half having never played with a bucket and spade. The playground at Richmond park has a brilliant sandpit with water feature and he had the best time. We are alway too busy making him ski and mountain bike and roller skate to let him enjoy the simplest pleasure.
It was a stunning day. I let it be more stressful than it should have been shouting at Lucas like an old fishwife every time he put a foot out of line. He didn’t make it easy cycling off when I tried to put him in the car and refusing to eat anything but olives all day. But I mustn’t shout at him. He is two. By the evening I felt moved to apologise to him for shouting earlier in the day and he seemed to understand. He said ‘I was trying to go off the road’ and he remembered the exact moment I had yelled and what he had been trying to do that got him yelled at unfairly. His emotional memory and understanding constantly amaze me. I said it was hard for me getting used to looking after him and Beatrix at the same time and doing everything. Who knows maybe he understands that. It is daunting. By the time we met other friends in the pub after G’s race I was ready to drop. As they embraced me I found myself lamenting ‘I’ve had too many children! And they’re not even all here yet!’
Today brought more juggling, more two year old tantrums including ‘i need to cry a lot’ and ‘You don’t love me!’ but also some wonderful news. Beatrix’s eyes seem to have sorted themselves out and are 95-99% likely to be fine. Hurrah. I had expected the worst but they have self corrected.
Alex Is still on oxygen and will not do the sleep study again till later this week. It does feel like we will never get out but I will just have to be patient. He is getting stronger every day and is, I must not forget, lucky to be as well as he is. Lucky to be alive.