It’s been a stressful kind of week. Manageable stress, but the kind that has the ability to drive you up the walls at the same time.
I’m in dire need of a Location, Location, Location episode where Kirstie and Phil decide to go through the Cork city rental market and find me something in my budget that fits our needs. We are getting closer to the end of this journey, but dear god, I hate house hunting. At least I can say we have a handle on it though. I’m expecting Daft and the city rental market to crash tomorrow with the influx of 18 year olds who realise they’ve gotten more than enough points for what they needed, thus not needing to wait until the offer comes out to book the crappy student accommodation. Of which, there are many many places available. It really does surprise me how much landlords think they can get away with under the premise of “Ah yeah. Bit of modernisation needed but its perfect” – loosely translated as “Theres damp everywhere, don’t trust the electrics in the kitchen and the stair climb is like mounting Everest, best to bring ropes”. Not ideal for a four month old, and two grownups, the female one being not the least clumsy of folk. But, this too shall pass.
In the meantime, E has had his 4 month injections and has become that clingy child all over again. This time was definitely more traumatic for me than him. He howled. I held in tears while in front of the nurse and left to devour a Freddo at half ten in the morning. Then felt guilt for breaking the diet. (Oh Weight Watchers, what have you done to my former comfort eating self?). He’s not so bad by day but gradually he has been working his way back into bed with us at night time, through pure waking up a million times and not settling in his crib as easy as he settles in the bed. I may get slapped and scratched in the face with his baby Wolverine hands (how do I get such rampant nail growth? Jealous!) but I’m getting some form of sleep, unlike the up and down a million times approach. I am convinced that his clinginess is what is making the weight drop off – spending 90% of my time these days holding over 5kg of baby, pacing and dancing and the whole shebang, its a proper workout. It’s not a habit I want him to get into – he happens to make a king sized bed seem rather small because he takes up so much of it when he’s in the middle and starfished out. Also when we move he’s going to have his bigger cot in his new room, so that will be an adjustment all of its own. It is definitely time for the bigger cot – he got to experience it in his grandparents in Wexford and since then has been hitting himself off the railings of his crib. Not sure what he’s up to. He’s learned to rotate around his playmat during the day, then attempts it at night time in the crib with monumentally less success. He’s definitely becoming more mobile though, which can only be a good thing, if terrifying – we can no longer walk away for a second and assume he’s in the same place…
There has been good news though – I got my first pebble to represent the stone I’ve lost since starting Weight Watchers (down 15lb as of last Friday). I’m noticing it in my clothes, I’m down a dress size and now even that is loose so I’ll soon be moving down another. I’m back to pre-baby weight, which is nice. A bit still to go to get to a healthy BMI weight but I’m not finding it heartbreakingly hard so I’m happy to keep at it. Anything to get my Mii on the (recently reclaimed from the spare room) Wii Fit looking less like a circle and more like a person. Others have commented too, people who haven’t seen me in a few months, so thats always nice to hear too.
Now, if I manage to get the baby to sleep and find us a place to live, it will all be perfect… solutions on a postcard please!