The ceiling

Full of Sunday evening malaise, so just a photo today.

J-cub eating pizza, staring at the ceiling. Why? No idea whatsoever. It was very interesting though.

Bouncy bouncy

Just a quickie today - it took J-cub 4 and a half hours to fall asleep last night, followed by wakings at 2am and 6am, so we've been running on empty today and don't have much to report.

We finally got him to drop off last night by resorting to the bouncer, which he is now way over the weight limit for and makes frightening creaky sounds when he's in it. He's so happy in it though, jumping and playing with the toys which surround it.

I held the camera up above it to get this picture, which he thought was hilarious. I was surprised at how well it came out, as I had to guess where it was pointing, try and get his attention, and focus and click before he looked away again.

Right now, he's been in bed for an hour, and every time his lullabies stop playing, he wakes up again. Think it might be another long night...

Exhaustion

After blogging about my reasons for voting yesterday, I went out for a meal with friends before returning to watch the election results. The friends in question have little ones the same age as J-cub, and we usually meet with them in tow, so it was a welcome relief to be able to finish a sentence (and eat a meal) without being distracted or drowned out by screams every few minutes.

Having been put on different antibiotics yesterday morning to try and clear my sinus infection, I spent the day feeling like my body was slowly shutting down. It didn't get really bad until I got home from the meal, when all my skin was raw to the touch, and I was hit by such bad muscular aches and pains that I could barely sit still. As I've previously mentioned, I've struggled to sleep over the last week, not even feeling tired at 2 or 3 o'clock in the morning. Ideal behaviour for election night, but last night the strongest wave of exhaustion hit me at around 11pm, and I struggled on through the first few results, but fell asleep at midnight and slept a deep, dreamless sleep until 10am when I was woken by waves of nausea rolling over me.

When I got up, the aches and pains still abounded, and I felt heavily sedated, barely able to move or talk or form a thought.

Jamie got all the information leaflets from all my current boxes of drugs, and cross-referenced them to see if there was any reason why I should be feeling as I did. I suddenly remembered the steroid tablets which I'd stopped taking on Wednesday, and started to look up their side effects.

Corticosteroid drugs such as prednisone and prednisolone are commonly used to treat asthma, allergic reactions, rheumatoid arthritis, and IBD. Steroids such as these do have serious drawbacks such as steroid withdrawal symptoms such as: fatigue, weakness, decreased appetite, weight loss, nausea, vomiting, abdominal pain, and diarrhea. Speak with your healthcare provider prior to tapering off steroid medications.

I had only been on a 5-day course, but according to everything I found, you should never just stop taking them, even if it's only a short course. The GP had mentioned nothing about tapering them off, nothing about withdrawal symptoms, and the advice on the packet just told me how many tablets to take a day.

Happy that I wasn't about to expire from the combined effects of all my medication, I went back to bed and slept for a further 5 hours. Then came downstairs and carried on sleeping on the sofa.

At around 7pm, the time when J-cub is supposed to go to bed, I started to pick up. J-cub however, started to go down. He's been coughing and crying and generally unhappy since, is adamant that he can't go to sleep, and is now bouncing in his bouncer watching In The Night Garden. At 10.20pm. Doesn't he know that we want to watch Lost?

I promise I'm going to stop talking about my illnesses soon, I'm sure it must be very boring but it's just all-encompassing at the moment. Being ill and trying to be a parent is much harder than being ill ever was, pre-baby. Unless you have a partner around to pick up the slack, you can't just lie in bed and try and get better, you have to struggle on and on, never getting the rest you need and so never getting back to proper healthiness. I'm so thankful that Jamie was off sick today too, with the same sinus infection, otherwise I don't know what I would have done.

It's so hard to have this little shouty face looking up at you, begging you to pick him up six thousand times a day, when you hurt to your very core and can't even bear to roll over in bed because it hurts so much. He seemed to be very aware that I needed to be treated gently today though, and when he came and climbed onto me for a cuddle when I was lying on the sofa, he put each of his hands on each of my shoulders, and gently patted me better.

Democracy

Today, after getting a trip to the doctor's to sort out my head-problems out of the way, I proudly slung J-cub onto my back, walked round the corner to our local community centre and cast my vote in the 2010 General Election.

I feel very strongly about my right and my duty to vote. We only get the chance once every 4 or 5 years to have even the slightest say over who makes the decisions which affect every single minutiae of our daily lives. It makes me crazy when people say that politics doesn't affect them, that they don't see the point in voting because 'they're all the same', or think that their views, opinions, worries, concerns and objections cannot be heard in Westminster.

It does. Of course it does. The people who say these things are the same people who complain when their taxes go up, and their benefits go down, and petrol prices rise, and cider costs more, and smoking gets banned, and house prices are too high, and house prices are too low, that they don't get seen quickly enough when something is wrong with them because the NHS is rubbish, but don't appreciate what a privilege it is that they don't have to scrape together thousands of pounds every time they have to stay in hospital, or hundreds of pounds every time they see a doctor, or having to pay more than a nominal amount for drugs.

As a new mother, all manner of privileges have become relevant to my life, in the same way that they have for other parents for many years. Child benefit, working family's tax credit, child tax credit, the child trust fund, SureStart centres, tax relief on childcare vouchers, no VAT on children's clothes, 24-hour support from NHS Direct, out-of-hours GP surgeries, Midwives and Health Visitors, libraries, public swimming pools, free pre-school places, maternity leave, paternity leave, dependency leave, and most importantly, CBeebies - most of these were entirely irrelevant to me at the last General Election.

But, if all doesn't go to plan tonight, the UK could return to a place where these privileges are reduced, or revoked entirely. And that's why I've voted the way I've voted today. A vote not for change, because all these things and more is what's important to me. Not every party is perfect, not every politician is perfect, and the last 5 or 6 years have more than adequately highlighted exactly how much a government can fuck things up. But it's still better than the 1930's and the 1980's. Black Wednesday anyone?

That's my party political motivation for voting the way I've voted, but alongside that runs my duty to vote, a duty that stands on the shoulders of the women who fought and died for my right to vote. Emmeline Pankhurst is a trending topic today on twitter, with tweeters making comments such as:

@loumorgan Tremendous to see Emmeline Pankhurst trending. Hope every woman uses her vote to pay tribute (& say thank you). #ukvote

@barrypilling Was proud to vote with Chellington today. Round of applause to #Emmeline Pankhurst and all the other women who kicked ass for equality.

@robertsofhood Emmeline Pankhurst is trending in the UK. Women only got the vote on equal terms with men 82 years ago. Who would she have voted for today?

When you think that someone like Emily Davison was compelled to throw herself in front of the King's horse at the Epsom Derby (and, although her reasons may have been unclear, her life was certainly dedicated to furthering the cause of the Suffragettes), is it really that difficult in the run up to an election to watch the news a few times, read a couple of newspapers or look up some policies online, then make a decision and walk round the corner to your local school or pub or community centre and put an X in a box? As long as you're not voting for the BNP, your political affiliation is entirely your own decision, and I would never dream of attempting to question or influence someone else's vote. But vote, dammit, get out there and vote. Or shut up.

The first General Election I remember, in 1992 (I was 12), my Dad told me that if Labour got into power, I'd have to sell my pony. Living in beautiful, rural mid-Devon, with a few acres of land, a pony a-piece for me and my sister, I was happy and carefree. It was the first time that I'd shown any interest in politics, and that was the extent of the answer I got to whatever question I may have posed. Over the next few years, I became aware that my views on things like the only black family in our village, and the trans-gendered local bus-driver, and our gay MP, didn't exactly marry with my parents views. Insular and entirely (to my mind) irrational, I learnt that there was no point going to them to learn about the way our country was working, and the way it could work if a different party was in power.

They never encouraged me to have a questioning mind, and I recall being given the answer "I'll tell you when you're 18" so many times that I wished I'd written all my questions down before I forgot them. I was still too young to vote in 1997, although as my birthday falls at the end of August, all of my peers could. I felt left out of conversations in the run-up to the election, I didn't understand what was going on, and I had nowhere to go for answers.

When I got to University, my newly-politicized housemates and friends were all far more informed than I was, and yet again I didn't want to show my ignorance by asking questions. It wasn't until I met Jamie, who had dropped out of his politics degree in his second year, that for the first time I found someone who was not only idealised and passionate and informed, but was also willing to sit talking to me for hours on end about things that I didn't understand, helping me to shape and tie together my knowledge of world history and sociology and politics, until I started to understand.

10 years later, I still feel stupid when electioneering is going on. The friends I follow on twitter and facebook who are proper clever, who I could never sit and talk to about this stuff because they'd start using names and references that would mean nothing to me - they are so much more adept at making statements and explaining to people why to vote. They post links and videos and stories which I don't understand, and I feel awkward and confused and embarrassed that I still don't know enough. But I still vote, and I know today that I cast the right vote.

I took J-cub with me today, in his sling on my back, just as I took him to the local elections when he was less than 3 months old. As J-cub grows up, I want him to learn to ask questions, and to form opinions, and to realise that he can make a difference. By registering to vote wherever he lives (not that he's ever going to leave me, you understand), and casting his vote each and every time he gets the opportunity.

I don't care how J-cub votes when he's older, I just hope that over the next 17 years, I can inspire him enough to look up to me; to learn, to ask, and to care about the workings of the country in which he lives.

General Election 2010

Local Election 2009

Bubble Boy

J-cub slept until an astonishing 9am this morning, probably helped by no alarms going off to wake us up, and only one nap yesterday (it was a 3 hour nap though, so I'll let him off). I managed to fall asleep around 2am, so actually feel a bit more like normal today.

We only had one nap again today, as he woke up late and so didn't go down until midday, sleeping through lunch and throwing everything out of whack. We've never tried to instigate a routine with him, but he's been pretty good at doing it himself, and I get a bit confused when things go haywire. Still, he's been lovely today, happy and climby and investigatory and shouty and fun.

Our day has been bubbly from start to finish; we played with bubbles this morning, which lead to lots of excited pointing and clapping and made Tilly pounce around with confusion. J-cub's book of choice for the day was a Meg and Mog board book, which has a nice 'Bubble bubble' spell in the middle, to make him giggle and continue our theme. And while he had his nap, we caught up on some telly (which felt so decadent, in the middle of the day), watching 'The Bubble' with David Mitchell which started about 6 weeks ago. We're rubbish at finding time to watch telly. It was very funny, and so nice for us to do something normal like drink a cup of coffee and watch an-almost-quiz-show during daylight.

Don't know about the future, that's anybody's guess

Just a quick one today, as I've done nothing of note other than try and get better, take Jamie to the GP so he can try and get better, and made a stupid mistake with the washing. What was I thinking, putting a brand-new, bright-red fleece rug in with the rest of the laundry?

The insides of J-cub's nappy wraps are now a delightful pink, although thankfully the nappies themselves are still pristine-white. A few of his t-shirts and vests also came out with a hint-of-pink, but I'm sure it'll just add to his charm.

Check out the wrap on the front line, third from the left. Doh.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Today's Look Up photo comes courtesy of a battle with my camera, which has not been taking photos of the quality which I have come to expect. I've been fiddling with the settings all day, and getting nowhere, so I've switched it back to auto, stopped pretending that I can pass as a photographer, and taken some bog-standard shots.

The cherry blossom in our garden has exploded out of nowhere, it wasn't there 10 days ago, and it's just stunning. I've cunningly planted garlic all round the bottom to prevent the blackfly we are usually plagued with, and touch wood, so far it's working. I love Spring.

Happy Star Wars Day

I've elected to stay home from work today and tomorrow, so as not to pass on my lurgy to any other staff/children, and because when I start coughing, I just can't stop, and I'd rather that didn't happen when I'm tearing round a playground trying to keep within eyesight of a hyperactive 10 year old.

I was gutted when I woke up this morning and realised that my decision meant that a) I wouldn't be there on our first day in a new classroom, and b) I'd miss sharing May the Fourth style Star Wars jokes with the boy I work with (E), who has been obsessed with Star Wars for 5 years now. When I started working with him, he and I did not mesh well. We couldn't find any common ground, he resented me replacing his previous favourite therapist, I was too authoritative and found it hard to let go and be silly with him. Every day that I worked, I'd be met with cries of "No! Not you! You're fired!", and I'd have to carry him to our work area in the throws of a full-blown autistic tantrum, kicking, screaming, biting, and pinching me for the first hour or so until he'd given up trying to get rid of me. Our sessions were always peppered with attacks from toy swords and screwdrivers, threats to cut off my head or drill through my hand. He threw a table at me once.

About six months later, he saw The Phantom Menace for the first time. My husband Jamie is your typical born-in-1977, geeky Star Wars fanatic. I've seen all the films a thousand times since we've been together, and gradually grown to love them as much as he does, although I don't think I'll ever be quite as obsessive about the lore as he is. This education, though, meant that at a time when I drove home from work every day in tears, losing all hope of being able to work with and help a child who hated the very sight of me: all of a sudden, we clicked. He started talking about Star Wars. His verbal skills were very limited at the time, but when he found that I could describe scenes for him, and knew character names, and could differentiate ships for him, and had an arsenal of Star Wars toys, books, and merchandise at home which I could bring him to play with, I became, in behavioural therapy terms, a motivator for him. His eyes would latch onto mine whenever we had a conversation, rather than skittering away to stare at the branches of the tree outside the window over my shoulder. He would run to our work table when I called, rather than me having to pick him up and place him in the chair. His verbal skills started improving at an exponential rate, as he found something that he really, really wanted to talk about. He started greeting me with pleasure, and reading on the sofa after work was finished, I had a warm and cuddly boy cwtched up against me, rather than a child who couldn't bear me to touch him.

5 years later, he still loves Star Wars, although Doctor Who, the Beano, all Wii games, anything to do with space and astronauts all feature heavily too. 5 years of spending 30 to 40 hours a week with the same child mean that I miss him like crazy when I'm not working, in a way which you're absolutely supposed to distance yourself from in this kind of work, but which my stupid empathic nature has entirely prevented me from doing. I was on maternity leave last year, and so it's been 2 years since I've been able to be silly, and giggle, and make the same joke a hundred times in a day. And I'm really sorry that I missed today.

May the Fourth be with you, E.