Knowing when to quit

The idea behind the post below had been rattling around my head for a few months.  But every time I sat down to write it I just couldn't get it to work.  I've lost track of how many times I've tried re-working it - rephrasing; deleting; swearing and pleading with it to just form something cogent.  In the end I decided to just abandon it as a lost cause.  I don't know if it's the subject, the fact it requires some local knowledge or just that it's trying too hard. Whatever the diagnosis, I think the kindest thing to do is to lead it limping out of sight and put it out of its misery.
I still thought I'd share the incomplete carcass of the post though, because it shows sometimes it doesn't matter how hard you try some things just don't work out - I'm honest (and defeatist) like that.

Plus, it's been awhile since I've posted anything and throwing this at you in a loose pretense of some deeper philosophical intent makes me look less lazy.

Seriously, this post is just terrible. Don't hate me.

Have you started anything you wish you hadn't?
How have you got around a challenging project?
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The Triangle
There's an area in Bristol City Centre known as 'the Triangle.' It's basically, as the name subtly suggests, a triangular shaped roundabout.
I've lived in Bristol for five years and I didn't know how this road worked conceptually until Husband explained it to me recently. With diagrams:

 

Husband's schematic of the Triangle

In my mind, you drove around it completely and it would coat you in awesome sauce and magically spit you out on to a different road:

 My exciting, magic dust infused version

Disappointingly, this isn't the case.  Apparently I had visualised the Triangle upside down. When Husband illustrated how the Triangle actually worked, it made so much more sense. The real world is boring when you adhere to strict physical laws, so I continue to maintain my original theory in my mind.

My inability to visualise the Triangle highlights how I blindly follow roads without any real spatial awareness. Despite being an OK navigator when a passenger, I will often look at a map and wonder how that road looped into that one, yet when I drove it it felt like a straight line. A bit like motorway driving when you just point the car in one direction and aim straight*
I'm beginning to wonder if I can actually drive, or the universe just bends the laws of physics so I don't kill everyone in sight as soon as I turn on the ignition.  Considering the dents in our first car this doesn't seem likely.
I am also a bit of a passive road-rager.  I politely let cars go past me in narrow roads, then spend the remainder of the journey in a complete pissey because about 8 cars pushed their way through, essentially clamping myself with my own chivalry.

* I mentioned this to Husband whose facial expressions alternated between amusement and abject terror.

Pro's and cons of going back to work post-baby

Now I've been back at work for a few months, I've had time to reflect on the advantages and disadvantages of balancing work and family life.  I've structured it into a pro's and cons list, because I haven't managed to find much of a balance and lists are quick.

Pro:  I don't get indigestion from inhaling meals when Little Parasite spots I'm eating, and makes his determined way over to mug me.
Con: I habitually leave bits of baby-safe sandwich and fruit as a decoy for the good stuff.

Pro: I can have a hot drink whilst it is indeed hot.
Con:  I continually burn my mouth because I think 'boiling' is 15oc, and forget to check. 

Pro:  I often get to have at least one grown-up conversation a day.
Con:  I now have to engage my brain.  I can't rely on innocence and make stuff up.

Pro:  I don't have to watch kids' TV.
Con:  I regularly miss Octonauts and Chuggington, which I now have to catch up on iPlayer.

Pro:  I can spend most of the day sat in a chair, not the floor.
Con: I have to sit in a chair and work, instead of sit on the floor pretending I'm only playing with toys to amuse Little Parasite - who has since crawled off somewhere, leaving me to play with his toys in peace.

Pro:  My lunch hour is actually a whole guaranteed hour, not a duration determined by the equation:  L=(ns - En)/C*, where L = lunch, s = sleep, E = Exhaustion, C = crankiness and n = number.
Con: Less time with LP.

Pro:  Earning money!
Con: The majority of it is spent on childcare. 

Pro: I can pretend 'baby brain' causes me to forget everything.
Con:  I've discovered 'baby brain' is a real thing.

Pro: I can get through a whole day with no baby puke on my clothes.
Con: I end up spilling yogurt on myself instead, and have no one else to blame.



*Apparently, Blogspot has no way of putting sub- or superscript characters in.

Divided

Two hours forty-five minutes.  That's how much sleep I had a few nights' back to get me through a working day.  Since Little Parasite started nursery 6 months ago his immune system has been under constant onslaught from every virus, germ and bacteria that can conceivably fit in one pre-school room.  Colds; hand foot and mouth disease; conjunctivitis; norovirus; eczema (including a fungal skin infection on his hands).  Poor LP has had it rough.  Add to this the expected trauma of teething and post-vaccination fevers, and the whole household has had it rough.  Nurseries are no place for babies.  They are essentially Petri dishes waiting to take their gig mobile.
That night, a cold-riddled LP decided screaming at regular intervals throughout the night, whilst still fast asleep, was in order.  When Husband or I went in to check on him with increasing frequency, he would sleepily look up at us with an expression of "What are you doing in here? Get out of my room so I can sleep."  Chastised, we would then leave the room.  As soon as the door closed, the screaming would start again.  Eventually, by 3am, we'd had enough and brought him into bed with us.  He immediately woke up and proceeded to use our bed frame as a gymnasium.  He lasted 10 minutes before we unceremoniously deposited him back to his own room.  He then happily fell asleep till I had to practically crow bar him out of his cot in the morning.  Unsurprisingly, he was somewhat tired and didn't want to go to nursery.


This is just one of a number of instances where I doubt how beneficial working is when your child is so young.  I know for many working mothers they enjoy the sense of self being at work brings back.  You regain some of your own identity, and don't just become the family's official nose-wiper and funny-noise-maker.  For me, becoming a mum updated my identity, it didn't undermine it.
Instead of feeling empowered by working, I feel that I've now become a half-assed employee, and a half-assed parent.   
Simple things such as when your child is a bit unwell suddenly become complicated issues.  Is he unwell enough to stay home?  Could he cope being a bit poorly but going to nursery?  Who is going to arrange time off to look after him?  Do we have enough leave to accommodate it? The simple answer of 'he just needs his mum' is no longer an option.

LP has great fun at nursery, so I have no concerns that he spends his days lamenting my absence (he barely looks back when I drop him off).  It's good for him to gain invaluable social skills and it gives Boy Dog* a break from having his eyes poked. Once we have got through all these recurrent illnesses (which, apparently, is an expected part of integrating into a nursery - oh good, it's normal.  That makes it much easier to cope with) things will improve.  In the meantime, I'll fantasise about creating the first commercially viable caffeine IV drip targeted at working mums. Know your market. 

*Sadly, Girl Dog passed away a few months ago. Now Boy Dog has to take the full throttle (not figurative) of LP's attentions.

Resolutions

A new year is a time for reflection, and a chance to indulge in a bit of self-absorbed introspection without too much disapproval.

So, a couple of weeks late perhaps (working mum... busy... blah blah blah), here are my resolutions for 2014:

Get my fitness back
Ok, I know pretty much everyone has this one on their list.  Up until the last year I have always exercised regularly (even when I was 9 months pregnant I was still active).  Unfortunately, it went a bit downhill from there.  After a less than pleasant birth experience (are any of them pleasant?), subsequent recovery and adjusting to life with a newborn, exercise did not feature high on my priorities.  I then had a Mirena coil fitted which caused constant cramping.  This was made worse when I exercised (and 'exercise' in this context could just mean walking to work).  This was not conducive to fitness motivation.  Now the damn thing has finally been removed, I have no excuses, and can finally get my fitness (and sanity!) back.  Of course, this does mean needing to find other ways to stop being parasitised again, but hey, at least I can do crunches.

Write more: 
Ha ha! Seriously. How often has this one reappeared on my resolution list over the years?  I do intend to try and factor in some regular writing time this year, and hopefully get a few more features published.  Because that's realistic; if I struggle to stick to my own deadlines, working to an editor's deadlines will be so much easier.

Recycle more:
When I was a student I was a very conscientious recycler.  We lived in a block of flats where the kerbside recycling bins were regularly stolen. So Husband (who at the time was Fiance) and I would collect all our recyclables over the month, and hike to the local supermarket with bags of plastic and glass jutting out everywhere to dispose of them.  Of course, much of this was fueled by my environmental and bioethics courses, where osmotic guilt seemed to be transferred through the rows of students.
Since leaving university I haven't given much thought to recycling beyond putting empty milk bottles and tins in the right coloured recycling box.  So, I'm going to put more effort into it and actually think before I automatically throw something away.

Give less of a crap about stuff:
I'm a worryer.  I worry about anything and everything,   I worry that I worry too much, and that worry is making me a bore, and if I'm not worrying about something, I think I've missed some small detail somewhere.  I'm worried that I've used the word 'worry' too much in this paragraph.
Basically, I'm going to try not to over-think everything, and properly enjoy the present.


I started 2013 with a newborn baby and a new home, and it has been one of the most enjoyable, exciting (and frustrating!) years so far.  I'm starting 2014 with a toddler, and a growing confidence which I hope will make this year notable.

Do you have any New Year's resolutions?  Any that keep recurring year after year?