A non-baby related post for a change, but something else that I love. I love playing games. I'm not talking about hide-and-seek and the like, but the lovely shiny digital variety on games consoles.
I got into gaming at university. It was the N64 era, when GoldenEye (the game of the film) was out. A flatmate of mine played and I was hooked. Even better, he had Mario Kart and I ended up playing several times a week (or at least whenever I could get a look in). I loved it so much that I convinced myself that what I really needed was a reward for all my hard work after my finals (yeah, right) and I bought my very first console.
It was great - how realistic they looked back then! (How bad they look now!) As I moved into my postgraduate year, gaming became an even bigger part of my life as I owned my first PC and was able to add PC gaming to the N64. Interestingly, there were 6 of us living together in my 4th year and it was the 2 girls who owned the games consoles (not that you'd have known from the time the boys spent on them).
I left uni and went to work, but I still loved video games. I was always looking forward to the new releases, and was very excited about the next generation of consoles.
Around this time I met N, appropriately enough, online. We were both hugely un-confident in social situations, but the internet let us be honest with each other in a way we would never have dared in real life. When we met, gaming was one of the few things we actually had (and indeed, have) in common. I enjoyed being taken seriously when I talked about games, and N loved having a girlfriend who was quite happy for him to geek it up! (I think he still quite likes that, actually :-) )
Video games consoles have moved on yet again since I first started playing and I'm still hooked. We still own one of every console (going back as far as the Dreamcast and the NES for those who know/care) and I'm really excited about the release of the new consoles and interested how the HD/Blu-Ray battle will go.
Channel Five's "Gadget Show" had exclusive access to the PS3 and the Wii, and seeing the reviewer, Jason, get as excited over the consoles as I feel was fantastic. He's written a full review here (although as I type this the link is down).
I'm most looking forward to the Wii - I love the idea and the innovation and most of all the attitude behind its development. I also think that Sony are shooting themselves in the foot by a) delaying PS3 launch in Europe and then b) charging £400 a pop. £400?!! Who are they kidding?! That's without the games, extra controllers, and the rip-off downloadable content that they have created (you won't be able to play some games fully without buying extras from them).
Nonetheless, I still love my gaming. I could post forever on its pros and cons, why Microsoft have won me round and why I secretly love the frustration of a difficult jump or challenging puzzle; but I won't. That kind of disussion is best after a good dinner and most of the way through a nice bottle of red. I am however intensely relieved (as I know is N) that our daughter's arrival hasn't stopped our gaming - who knows, maybe she'll join in one day - and I hope that N & I manage to keep gaming together well into our old age!
31 October 2006
29 October 2006
On my own! And coping.
N went back to work two weeks ago. I thought about posting sooner, but decided that it would be a bad idea and not a particularly balanced account!
I was, as previously mentioned, terrified about it for several reasons. The main reason was that I was worried (and still am to a certain degree) that it would trigger the return of my depression. Having lived with it for over 5 years and only recently returned to what passes as normality for me, I am not eager to go back.
Unfortunately the first week didn't do much to alleviate that worry. The days alternated between good and bad. Monday was ok, Tuesday was awful, Wednesday was ok, Thursday was awful and Friday was only ok because I handed over to my Mum in the afternoon so that I could go to choir practice.
Not only was the baby unsettled by the change in getting up time and going to bed time, she clearly missed her Daddy (which didn't help her Mummy who also missed him greatly)! Obviously that was one thing I couldn't fix for her and of course made me feel as though all the work I was putting in was sub-standard and pointless. I knew that this was the depression creeping back which bothered me even more.
At the start of last week, I said to N that I couldn't get up with him and take him to the station. I was so exhausted that the 6am start for a 6.30 station run was taking away the last reerves of energy that I had. I felt incredibly guilty, as it means that N's journey in the morning is over 2 hours long (he works in Chichester, around 60 miles away from where we live).
The difference last week was amazing. Our daughter slept until 7.45 most days (hurrah!) and had at least one long nap in the day. To make things better, N has been able to agree a slightly shorter lunch break, meaning he can get an earlier train home. He's now home over half an hour earlier, which makes a huge difference, and means we have been able to reinstate our daughter's evening routine (play, bath, bottle, bed) to it's original time, which in turn has settled her more readily and meant that we get a slightly longer evening and don't feel like we only have time to eat and sleep.
My next challenge from here is to find something interesting to do. Due to some kind of (administrative?) oversight, we weren't invited to a post-natal class, so I have no-one to talk to, visit etc during the day. We have some other friends that we were regularly visiting, but they have recently had their second baby, so are somewhat occupied at the moment! I know I really should take our daughter swimming, but it seems complicated - mainly to do with getting myself prepared to show legs and swimsuit-line (never bikini-line; I wouldn't want to scare anyone!) in public.
I have found one thing to do helping out a local organisation with some basic admin, but it's home-work, so I won't be getting out, which is a shame. I would love to be able to go for a walk, but we live on a main road (think 1/3 of a mile from motorways) which runs in a very steep valley, so there isn't anywhere suitable. Oh to be by the sea again!
Ah well, I guess there's always another trip round Tesco... :-)
I was, as previously mentioned, terrified about it for several reasons. The main reason was that I was worried (and still am to a certain degree) that it would trigger the return of my depression. Having lived with it for over 5 years and only recently returned to what passes as normality for me, I am not eager to go back.
Unfortunately the first week didn't do much to alleviate that worry. The days alternated between good and bad. Monday was ok, Tuesday was awful, Wednesday was ok, Thursday was awful and Friday was only ok because I handed over to my Mum in the afternoon so that I could go to choir practice.
Not only was the baby unsettled by the change in getting up time and going to bed time, she clearly missed her Daddy (which didn't help her Mummy who also missed him greatly)! Obviously that was one thing I couldn't fix for her and of course made me feel as though all the work I was putting in was sub-standard and pointless. I knew that this was the depression creeping back which bothered me even more.
At the start of last week, I said to N that I couldn't get up with him and take him to the station. I was so exhausted that the 6am start for a 6.30 station run was taking away the last reerves of energy that I had. I felt incredibly guilty, as it means that N's journey in the morning is over 2 hours long (he works in Chichester, around 60 miles away from where we live).
The difference last week was amazing. Our daughter slept until 7.45 most days (hurrah!) and had at least one long nap in the day. To make things better, N has been able to agree a slightly shorter lunch break, meaning he can get an earlier train home. He's now home over half an hour earlier, which makes a huge difference, and means we have been able to reinstate our daughter's evening routine (play, bath, bottle, bed) to it's original time, which in turn has settled her more readily and meant that we get a slightly longer evening and don't feel like we only have time to eat and sleep.
My next challenge from here is to find something interesting to do. Due to some kind of (administrative?) oversight, we weren't invited to a post-natal class, so I have no-one to talk to, visit etc during the day. We have some other friends that we were regularly visiting, but they have recently had their second baby, so are somewhat occupied at the moment! I know I really should take our daughter swimming, but it seems complicated - mainly to do with getting myself prepared to show legs and swimsuit-line (never bikini-line; I wouldn't want to scare anyone!) in public.
I have found one thing to do helping out a local organisation with some basic admin, but it's home-work, so I won't be getting out, which is a shame. I would love to be able to go for a walk, but we live on a main road (think 1/3 of a mile from motorways) which runs in a very steep valley, so there isn't anywhere suitable. Oh to be by the sea again!
Ah well, I guess there's always another trip round Tesco... :-)
25 October 2006
One year on
A couple of weeks ago, N & I celebrated our first wedding anniversary. We had a fantastic day - we dropped the baby off with her grandparents and then legged it into town for the matinee of Monty Python's Spamalot in the West End. We were originally going to see this on Broadway on our honeymoon, but as I was 10 weeks pregnant, I thought that the 7 hour flight to NY would be a bad idea, as I would either have had to be drugged to the eyeballs or I would be in full panic mode for the entire time!
After the show (which was EXCELLENT - if we can find an excuse/babysitter to see it again, we will) we went back to a local hotel; in fact the one we had our wedding reception in. As part of our wedding package, they gave us a free anniversary meal, so we stayed the night as well. This is no doubt the marketing ploy they are hoping for, but a night out is so rare, and last year we were (well, I was) too exhausted to enjoy being in a swanky suite.
The following morning we had a lie-in - we only got up at 8am! After a lovely breakfast, we opened our cards and presents in the hotel room and then went shopping without the baby. We went to pick her up in the late morning, stayed for lunch and then headed home mid-afternoon as the other grandparents were popping over. All in all, we had a fabulous weekend.
It was lovely; not only getting the "time off" to ourselves, but looking back over the year, remembering the fantastic wedding day we had and realising how lucky we are in our lives. After the huge changes that have happened to us, we are so aware of how much we value the support we have from our wonderful friends and family. And for two people who are incredibly shy and find new social situations very difficult, we have a great deal of people who care for us - we are truly rich in the only way that matters to us.
I know that this sounds wishy-washy, but I honestly believe that we can give our daughter no greater gift than the loving and supportive environment we live in.
After the show (which was EXCELLENT - if we can find an excuse/babysitter to see it again, we will) we went back to a local hotel; in fact the one we had our wedding reception in. As part of our wedding package, they gave us a free anniversary meal, so we stayed the night as well. This is no doubt the marketing ploy they are hoping for, but a night out is so rare, and last year we were (well, I was) too exhausted to enjoy being in a swanky suite.
The following morning we had a lie-in - we only got up at 8am! After a lovely breakfast, we opened our cards and presents in the hotel room and then went shopping without the baby. We went to pick her up in the late morning, stayed for lunch and then headed home mid-afternoon as the other grandparents were popping over. All in all, we had a fabulous weekend.
It was lovely; not only getting the "time off" to ourselves, but looking back over the year, remembering the fantastic wedding day we had and realising how lucky we are in our lives. After the huge changes that have happened to us, we are so aware of how much we value the support we have from our wonderful friends and family. And for two people who are incredibly shy and find new social situations very difficult, we have a great deal of people who care for us - we are truly rich in the only way that matters to us.
I know that this sounds wishy-washy, but I honestly believe that we can give our daughter no greater gift than the loving and supportive environment we live in.
1,000 and counting!
Six months ago today, at 11.47am to be precise, our daughter was born. Wow. I can’t believe it’s been so long, and at the same time, I can’t believe it’s only six months.
I have found it hard adjusting to being a mother. At the start, the night feeds would have me in tears as I fought the pain of her rough feeding technique and the exhaustion. I found it hard to bond with her, as the experience of giving birth was horrific for me – not the birth process itself, but the lack of communication and any kind of empathy shown by the midwives. One midwife on her final post-natal visit managed to reduce me to tears with her inconsiderate attitude. Dr Crippen's comments on “madwives” struck many chords with me.
I am frustrated by my daughter and infuriated at times. I do not cope well with not being able to reason with her, even though I know it is not the fault of either of us. My fear of not being ready for this has had a big impact, and I know I am not as patient as I could be.
But for every second of the tears, fears and sleeplessness I have had, the joy is multiplied one-thousand-fold. I adore her. Every look, every smile, the laughter and the chance to watch each new experience is more magical than I ever believed possible. Even as she struggles against her daytime naps (and how she fights to stay awake and experience more of the world, and NOW!) she makes me smile. The way she beams at me when I get her up in the morning, the giggles as I make aeroplanes with her food and the excited laugh and arms-held-aloft that greets her Daddy as he comes home make every second of the hard bits infinitely worth it.
All I have to do now is keep reminding myself of this when we decide to have another child! (Thinking of you Emily, hope all goes well) Oh, and in case you’re wondering, the title refers to the approximate number of dirty nappies we’ve changed in the last 6 months!
I have found it hard adjusting to being a mother. At the start, the night feeds would have me in tears as I fought the pain of her rough feeding technique and the exhaustion. I found it hard to bond with her, as the experience of giving birth was horrific for me – not the birth process itself, but the lack of communication and any kind of empathy shown by the midwives. One midwife on her final post-natal visit managed to reduce me to tears with her inconsiderate attitude. Dr Crippen's comments on “madwives” struck many chords with me.
I am frustrated by my daughter and infuriated at times. I do not cope well with not being able to reason with her, even though I know it is not the fault of either of us. My fear of not being ready for this has had a big impact, and I know I am not as patient as I could be.
But for every second of the tears, fears and sleeplessness I have had, the joy is multiplied one-thousand-fold. I adore her. Every look, every smile, the laughter and the chance to watch each new experience is more magical than I ever believed possible. Even as she struggles against her daytime naps (and how she fights to stay awake and experience more of the world, and NOW!) she makes me smile. The way she beams at me when I get her up in the morning, the giggles as I make aeroplanes with her food and the excited laugh and arms-held-aloft that greets her Daddy as he comes home make every second of the hard bits infinitely worth it.
All I have to do now is keep reminding myself of this when we decide to have another child! (Thinking of you Emily, hope all goes well) Oh, and in case you’re wondering, the title refers to the approximate number of dirty nappies we’ve changed in the last 6 months!
12 October 2006
Diplomatic Relations
The second big thing that happened last week was very unexpected. My dad came to visit.
Now I know that doesn't sound like a huge thing, but our relationship is... complex. My parents split up when I was about 13, but before that, my dad had been flitting in and out. He is an alcoholic, and was never stable, partly because of problems in his own childhood. I have memories of arguments and shouting, and I vividly remember praying that I fell asleep each night before my dad woke up to start shouting again otherwise I knew I'd be awake for hours trying to block out the sound. When my mum finally told my dad to leave I was really happy.
In the intervening years, my relationship with my dad deteriorated further. I couldn't forgive him for treating us the way he did, even if he did have other problems. I also found an old diary that my mum used to keep, and, being the nosy interfering child that I am, I read it. It really helped me, as it filled in gaps in my life that I wanted to know but could never ask, but I knew that I could never tell my mum about it as it was all about the unhappiest parts of their marriage.
My dad then disappeared off around the world, living out of my parents' joint bank account and running up debts on their joint assets - that my mum then had to pay back. It was a horrendously stressful time for my mum, and as the oldest child, I felt responsible for helping her through it. When my dad did get in touch, I didn't want to speak to him. Eventually, one day when I was about 15 or 16, he rang when there was no-one else in, and (in my memory at least) calmly and as dispassionately as I could I told him how I felt about him. It was horrendous, and made us both cry (can you imagine how I felt at 16 making my father cry). Since then, we've never really spoken. Most recently I saw him at my sister's 21st and at her graduation (she still has a good relationship with him), but that was over 3 years ago.
When I found out I was pregnant I dithered about whether to tell him, and if so, how. My instincts were always that he would be my child's grandfather and therefore had a right to know - even if we had no relationship, my child had a right to his/her grandparent. My reservation was down to the fact that he had remarried (a lovely lady, no problems there) and I knew that this was the kind of thing that could cause him to wobble and disappear from the scene.
In the end, I rang him and told him. It was a weird conversation, a bit out of the blue about 2 weeks before our wedding (to which he wasn't invited). He asked about visiting us, and I said of course he could, but then didn't hear from him again. When our daughter was born, I rang and told him. He sounded so emotional on the phone, and asked if he could see her. I said that of course he could, because he's her family. But again, we didn't hear from him, and I also found out that he left his wife briefly and started implying to my sister that he missed our mum and wanted to get back together with her (raising my sister's hopes, even after all this time).
I began to get annoyed - I have no issue with our relationship, but messing my daughter around is another thing altogether. I fumed about it, and in the end, about 2 weeks ago I sent him and his wife a polite, chatty letter with a couple of photos. In the letter I said that I hadn't been in touch as I didn't want to offend or upset them, but here were some pictures and a little news. To my huge surprise, about 3 days later he called me and after a quick chat asked what we were doing at the weekend, and arranged to visit!
I spent the next couple of days being surprised and a little excited - after everything, he's still my dad and I know I've always loved him even when I've disliked him more than I can describe, and I'd given up on ever knowing him again. On the other hand, I was aware that this could be an unmitigated disaster and I knew that I had to be prepared. My main goal was to enable my daughter to see all of her grandparents as she grows up.
On Saturday, N & I cleaned the house, while trying not too look like we were too bothered (I don't know who we were trying to kid). N is very tidy, unlike me, and as he's never really met my dad, I know he was a lot more nervous than he was letting on.
Just before 2 they arrived, just as our daughter decided she needed a nap. So we sat down, and the four of us chatted. It was strange, as though there was no history, but nice. An hour later, our daughter got up, and we introduced them. As ever, she had the effect that she seems to have on everyone she meets; she watched them intently with her huge blue eyes and then after a few minutes decided that they were trustworthy and gave them the biggest grin she could. Of course, they were completely won over, and we spent the next hour talking about babies, including what I was like, which was very funny. Everyone seemed to get along, and although I can't speak for anyone else, it seemed very relaxed.
All of a sudden it was 4pm, and they had to go for the 2 hour drive back to Oxfordshire, and I spent the rest of the weekend wondering if they had actually been, it had been so surreal. I haven't dared let myself be happy about it - I really really hope that something comes of it, and that we manage to stay in touch, but until it happens, I'm just glad that they finally met our daughter and sad that they missed so much fun in her earliest days.
Now I know that doesn't sound like a huge thing, but our relationship is... complex. My parents split up when I was about 13, but before that, my dad had been flitting in and out. He is an alcoholic, and was never stable, partly because of problems in his own childhood. I have memories of arguments and shouting, and I vividly remember praying that I fell asleep each night before my dad woke up to start shouting again otherwise I knew I'd be awake for hours trying to block out the sound. When my mum finally told my dad to leave I was really happy.
In the intervening years, my relationship with my dad deteriorated further. I couldn't forgive him for treating us the way he did, even if he did have other problems. I also found an old diary that my mum used to keep, and, being the nosy interfering child that I am, I read it. It really helped me, as it filled in gaps in my life that I wanted to know but could never ask, but I knew that I could never tell my mum about it as it was all about the unhappiest parts of their marriage.
My dad then disappeared off around the world, living out of my parents' joint bank account and running up debts on their joint assets - that my mum then had to pay back. It was a horrendously stressful time for my mum, and as the oldest child, I felt responsible for helping her through it. When my dad did get in touch, I didn't want to speak to him. Eventually, one day when I was about 15 or 16, he rang when there was no-one else in, and (in my memory at least) calmly and as dispassionately as I could I told him how I felt about him. It was horrendous, and made us both cry (can you imagine how I felt at 16 making my father cry). Since then, we've never really spoken. Most recently I saw him at my sister's 21st and at her graduation (she still has a good relationship with him), but that was over 3 years ago.
When I found out I was pregnant I dithered about whether to tell him, and if so, how. My instincts were always that he would be my child's grandfather and therefore had a right to know - even if we had no relationship, my child had a right to his/her grandparent. My reservation was down to the fact that he had remarried (a lovely lady, no problems there) and I knew that this was the kind of thing that could cause him to wobble and disappear from the scene.
In the end, I rang him and told him. It was a weird conversation, a bit out of the blue about 2 weeks before our wedding (to which he wasn't invited). He asked about visiting us, and I said of course he could, but then didn't hear from him again. When our daughter was born, I rang and told him. He sounded so emotional on the phone, and asked if he could see her. I said that of course he could, because he's her family. But again, we didn't hear from him, and I also found out that he left his wife briefly and started implying to my sister that he missed our mum and wanted to get back together with her (raising my sister's hopes, even after all this time).
I began to get annoyed - I have no issue with our relationship, but messing my daughter around is another thing altogether. I fumed about it, and in the end, about 2 weeks ago I sent him and his wife a polite, chatty letter with a couple of photos. In the letter I said that I hadn't been in touch as I didn't want to offend or upset them, but here were some pictures and a little news. To my huge surprise, about 3 days later he called me and after a quick chat asked what we were doing at the weekend, and arranged to visit!
I spent the next couple of days being surprised and a little excited - after everything, he's still my dad and I know I've always loved him even when I've disliked him more than I can describe, and I'd given up on ever knowing him again. On the other hand, I was aware that this could be an unmitigated disaster and I knew that I had to be prepared. My main goal was to enable my daughter to see all of her grandparents as she grows up.
On Saturday, N & I cleaned the house, while trying not too look like we were too bothered (I don't know who we were trying to kid). N is very tidy, unlike me, and as he's never really met my dad, I know he was a lot more nervous than he was letting on.
Just before 2 they arrived, just as our daughter decided she needed a nap. So we sat down, and the four of us chatted. It was strange, as though there was no history, but nice. An hour later, our daughter got up, and we introduced them. As ever, she had the effect that she seems to have on everyone she meets; she watched them intently with her huge blue eyes and then after a few minutes decided that they were trustworthy and gave them the biggest grin she could. Of course, they were completely won over, and we spent the next hour talking about babies, including what I was like, which was very funny. Everyone seemed to get along, and although I can't speak for anyone else, it seemed very relaxed.
All of a sudden it was 4pm, and they had to go for the 2 hour drive back to Oxfordshire, and I spent the rest of the weekend wondering if they had actually been, it had been so surreal. I haven't dared let myself be happy about it - I really really hope that something comes of it, and that we manage to stay in touch, but until it happens, I'm just glad that they finally met our daughter and sad that they missed so much fun in her earliest days.
London Calling
Last week was a really big week for me personally, as two big things happened. I'm not going to post about them both in one post as they're so different, so you'll have to wait for the other one!
The first big thing was that I went back to my choir. I've always sung in a choir, ever since I was eight, and it's a huge part of my life. I started in our church choir, then with the Royal School of Church Music who run cathedral choirs, and then local choral societies as I got older.
In 2004 I joined the BBC Symphony Chorus, and I absolutely love it. I get to sing a really wide repertoire with some amazing orchestras and conductors and best of all, we're one of the main choirs for the Proms! The BBCSC provides the choir that sings on the first and last nights in the Albert Hall, so I have sung on stage at the Last Night of the Proms - I never thought I'd be able to say that! (They also provide singers for the Blue Peter Christmas show - so I've done that too - how cool will it be when my daughter is old enough to watch?)
I had decided to miss some time before our wedding, so didn't do the 2005 Proms, and then when I found out I was pregnant I realised that I was going to be far too tired to commit to the 3 nights a week (plus concerts) I would need to do, so I missed all of the 2005/06 season as well. Last week, the new season started, so I went back for the first time in almost a year.
I was really nervous about going, as I realised that I had not been out of my comfort zone of friends and family for over six months. It was quite scary to realie how easy it is to fall into the habit of not going out and not making any effort. I knew that if I didn't go, I'd never get back, and so I forced myself out of the door.
Once I'd made it, bought my ticket and got on the train, I suddenly realised just how much I missed it. I've always enjoyed working in London, and am one of those weird people who doesn't mind the commute (I leave enough time to travel in rush hour without having to push or shove anywhere). When I finally arrived in Victoria Station I actually felt relieved to be back - not the normal reaction to the hustle and bustle, I know!
Being back singing was fantastic - apart from seeing other normal people again, just getting the workout was great. It's amazing how having a baby teaches you about support and all the muscles you need to use when you're singing; I guess knowing where my pelvic floor is helps too!
I just hope I can carry on. N goes back to work next week, and as it stands he won't be home by the time I need to leave to get there. My mum has offered her partner's services (not sure if he knows though) so hopefully we can work something out. I miss not seeing my daughter's bed time as it's my favourite part of the day, but I know I'm a much better mother to her when I feel that I have a life that isn't all about her.
The first big thing was that I went back to my choir. I've always sung in a choir, ever since I was eight, and it's a huge part of my life. I started in our church choir, then with the Royal School of Church Music who run cathedral choirs, and then local choral societies as I got older.
In 2004 I joined the BBC Symphony Chorus, and I absolutely love it. I get to sing a really wide repertoire with some amazing orchestras and conductors and best of all, we're one of the main choirs for the Proms! The BBCSC provides the choir that sings on the first and last nights in the Albert Hall, so I have sung on stage at the Last Night of the Proms - I never thought I'd be able to say that! (They also provide singers for the Blue Peter Christmas show - so I've done that too - how cool will it be when my daughter is old enough to watch?)
I had decided to miss some time before our wedding, so didn't do the 2005 Proms, and then when I found out I was pregnant I realised that I was going to be far too tired to commit to the 3 nights a week (plus concerts) I would need to do, so I missed all of the 2005/06 season as well. Last week, the new season started, so I went back for the first time in almost a year.
I was really nervous about going, as I realised that I had not been out of my comfort zone of friends and family for over six months. It was quite scary to realie how easy it is to fall into the habit of not going out and not making any effort. I knew that if I didn't go, I'd never get back, and so I forced myself out of the door.
Once I'd made it, bought my ticket and got on the train, I suddenly realised just how much I missed it. I've always enjoyed working in London, and am one of those weird people who doesn't mind the commute (I leave enough time to travel in rush hour without having to push or shove anywhere). When I finally arrived in Victoria Station I actually felt relieved to be back - not the normal reaction to the hustle and bustle, I know!
Being back singing was fantastic - apart from seeing other normal people again, just getting the workout was great. It's amazing how having a baby teaches you about support and all the muscles you need to use when you're singing; I guess knowing where my pelvic floor is helps too!
I just hope I can carry on. N goes back to work next week, and as it stands he won't be home by the time I need to leave to get there. My mum has offered her partner's services (not sure if he knows though) so hopefully we can work something out. I miss not seeing my daughter's bed time as it's my favourite part of the day, but I know I'm a much better mother to her when I feel that I have a life that isn't all about her.
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