Running on empty

No one told me that once you had a toddler on your hands, you'd be covered in bruises. And that every part of you would ache. But it's true. I am literally covered in bruises as Daph is constantly knocking into me, throwing things at my face (my mobile phone has hit me in the eye at least five times in the past two months alone), and generally requiring me to save her from imminent death and thus injuring myself in the process. It is full on protecting a one year old from their many and varied attempts to harm themselves. Since having her, I've had about 300 colds, another bout of norovirus, shut my finger in my car door and lost a fingernail in the process, dropped my (switched on) hair straighteners through my finger tips losing lots of skin in the process, bashed my arm against our banister trying to stop the pushchair from knocking a huge glass-framed picture over (yes, really) and then last week, I topped it all off by falling down the stairs. While holding her.

She now weighs about two stone (not joking), and somehow I managed not to drop her as I fell (meaning she was absolutely fine), but this achievement left me feeling like I've been in a car accident. I have a bruise the size of my palm on one buttock (it's gone purply-black now and is very impressive - I've been sharing bum-selfies with everyone and anyone I know well enough not to judge me), a huge bruise on my elbow where I knocked it trying to lessen the fall, and polka dot bruises all down my spine from where it bumped its way to the bottom of the stairs. It bloody hurts. Every part of me hurts. My neck (which has never not hurt thanks to a career spent hunched over a computer screen) is now a complete write off - leaning down to haul Daph off the floor 1200 times a day means I am rapidly turning into the hunchback of Notre Dame.

I am exhausted. Not just physically, but emotionally, mentally and any other bloody way you can be. I had booked a spa break next week with my sister, and I was so looking forward to it (and the hot stone massage) but unfortunately we've had to postpone as we're going to a funeral instead. That just about sums up 2016.

The upside to all this moaning is that I am incredibly excited about Christmas and the new year. 2016 has been one of the hardest years of my life for so many varied reasons (not the worst, but the hardest), and has also been pretty shitty for most people I know. So all I can think is that stuff is going to get better. The only way is up! Last night, Daph slept from 7pm to 7.20am when we had to go in and WAKE HER UP. I am taking this miraculous event as a sign. Things are going to improve. Just a few weeks left of this godawful year - hang on in there people, we can do it.

Midweek Musings: Simple pleasures

Blame the fact I'm reading The Handmaid's Tale at the moment, blame the fact that November seems to be dragging on unbearably long, blame the fact that I haven't been out for dinner with friends for nearly ten weeks now as I've been totally housebound six nights a week, meaning adult conversation is somewhat limited - whatever it is, I've been in a very reflective mood lately.

The other night, I made Oli do some silly quiz someone had posted on Facebook - a bit like Mr & Mrs, you had to answer questions about the other person. One of them was 'What do you like the most about me?' and, somewhat incredibly I think, Oli said my 'positivity'. I nearly fell out of bed (we were just about to go to sleep). I try very hard to stay positive, but I do have a tendency to moan on - for me a bit of whinging is cathartic and I do love a good rant. Generally speaking though, I'm quite a content person. When I moan I'm trying to make light of things - it's my way of dealing with stuff, trying to turn it into some silly exaggerated joke.

Having said that, I have been trying really hard to be positive lately, which has been really tough, given the state of the world in general. There's an interesting message in The Handmaid's Tale which basically says 'we didn't know how good we had it until it all changed' and that's kind of how I feel about the state of things world-wise at the moment. It's all very good thinking change will be better, but what if it's not, what if it's worse?

Anyway, in order to counteract this rather deep-seated sense of malaise and fear - especially as I have a little one to think of, imagining the world she's coming into is terrifying quite frankly - I've been trying to appreciate the small things in life. Each day, trying to live in the present (which is one of my top tips for coping with life in general actually). I do think having a baby makes you appreciate the simple things - it's a cliche because it's true. I used to be all about fancy events, expensive clothes and handbags and, well... showing off, and while I do still like most of these things (!), they seem to come at a price. But it's the little things that now bring me those small thrills of excitement, like you used to get as a kid.

So, here are a few of my simple pleasures. Things that make me smile. I'd love to hear yours too.

1. Cold walks wrapped in big coats. Watching my breath mist in the air.
2. Online shopping arriving (especially when it's something cute for the baby).
3. The smell of Christmas candles. Candles in general. Let's be honest, they don't have quite the same effect on long summer evenings.
4. Lebkuchen.
5. My daily gin and tonic once the baby is asleep at 7pm.
6. Writing. It's been hard - I've written about 76,000 words now, done over just nine weeks, and am nearly finished with the first draft. But it's so satisfying to be working on something that I feel passionate about.
7. My blow fan heater. Economical it may not be, but god that thing brings me joy. #toastytoes
8. The baby running around naked before her bath every night and being ridiculously excited about it.
9. Getting a decent night's sleep after a year of not doing so. Just waking up and not feeling exhausted is amazing - I will never take sleep for granted again!
10. The Missing. I don't watch much telly at all, but this is addictively good and I get very excited when I realise it's Wednesday and there's another episode on.
11. Christmas coffees - OK, they are responsible for around half a stone in weight gain each year but still. No one has to see my white flabby thighs, it's winter.
12. And on that note... no one has to see my white flabby thighs, it's winter. I don't have to shave my legs every day and faff about with fake tan. Hurrah for low-maintenance beauty.
13. The colour of the leaves on the trees outside my office window. It's insanely beautiful. I have tried photographing them but my windows need cleaning and the pictures don't do them justice. Instead, please enjoy these recent pics by my professional photographer sister. Suffice to say, nature beats everything.

Oh god, have I just described hygge? Shoot me now.

End-of-week Musings: the UK cat killer

Apologies! This post is late - again. I've had food poisoning/norovirus (no idea how you tell the difference) over the past few days and have been in an absolute state. On the mend now finally, thanks to lots of rest and dioralyte.

This week I wanted to do a quick post about the UK cat killer. A bit random, I know, but actually it's something I've been following lately and it's really upset me. For those not in the know, there's a horrible sick git out there taking great pleasure in killing (often decapitating) cats late at night, and leaving them for their owners to find. There's been more than 100 confirmed murders now, most of which have taken place around the M25. But the police are still no closer to catching the person responsible.

I wanted to write about this because since we moved house, we've wondered what to do about Percy and his access to the garden. We have a cat flap in our living room, but as our downstairs is completely open plan this means he can come and go as he pleases, leaving a trail of muddy footprints across our carpet/rug/sofa/dining table/everything (he loves the new garden, and he especially loves digging in the mud). So when we go to bed, we've taken to shutting him in the downstairs loo (should add, it's quite a big loo!), with his bed, litter tray and food etc. It feels quite mean to have him confined to a relatively small area all night, and we were considering getting a cat flap fitted on the loo window too so he could get outside that way, but we've decided not to do that until this terrible person has been caught. It's just not worth the risk.

So yes, that's what I wanted to say really. Just in case you hadn't heard about it and have a cat that you love and want to keep safe! Please spread the word. The official advice from the people investigating this killer is to keep your cats indoors at night - most of the killings have taken place over night. If you want to read more about it, there's an animal rescue organisation in South Norwood (the killings started in Croydon) who have all the information you could need, and there's lots of stuff in the press too. This is a good article.

What I miss about living in London (and what I don't)

I'm going to be honest with you, having to blog is quite painful right now. Mostly because I am currently trying to write 10,000 words per week of my novel, which means five evenings a week I'm doing 2000 words. I'm having Wednesdays off as that's when I go to do my session at the Faber Academy. Sunday is my Day of Rest (the only day that Oli doesn't work, and so the only day we get to spend as a family). So having to open the laptop again today is a little bit depressing, but I don't want to stop blogging because I do so love the sound of my own voice. And I'm sure you lot do too (heh heh).

(On a sidenote, trying to write 10,000 words a week, last thing at night after the baby has been bathed and put to bed, and I've cooked my own dinner, is quite challenging (read: exhausting). I am slightly regretting my over-enthusiastic target. However, I know that if I don't stick to it I won't finish my first draft by the time Oli finishes his show. So, onwards till my fingertips fall off and my brain is completely fried, etc etc).

But that's not what this post is meant to be about. We've been living in the new house for a good three months now, and I wanted to share my thoughts on the things that I miss about living in the Big Smoke (does anyone call it that these days?). So here goes, as always, being completely honest...

1. The shops. This makes me inordinately shallow, I am aware. But I miss living near good shops. We were about a 20 minute walk into Wimbledon town centre from my old flat and it really had most of the things you needed, thanks to the wonder that is Elys department store. There was also a massive M&S right next to my flat, full of lovely baby clothes (plus ready-meals for lazy days), as well as a Mothercare and a Dunelm Mill (yes I lived by a retail park, yes it was ugly, yes it was bloody useful). Where we are now has a decent enough town centre (big Sainsbury's) but it's all very chainy and depressing - Next and Monsoon and places like that that I'd never go in (retail snob). It also has a teeny Debenhams. Debenhams is the shittest department store of all department stores. I'm sorry, but it is. Who actually buys Debenhams clothes? Someone must do, but I am still bewildered by why they would.
2. The transport options. The tube is disgusting and overcrowded and filthy, but my god, is it convenient and easy. I was about five minutes from the tube in my old flat, and I also had buses galore outside my doorstep (this also had its downsides obviously) and could get to Oxford Circus in 20 minutes. As well as this, I could walk to Wimbledon and get on a different tube line AND the overground, so transport options were plentiful. I can't overestimate how important this is if you're travelling into town on a regular basis. It just makes life SO much more pleasant when public transport goes tits up, as it invariably does.
3. Deliveroo. Deliveroo deliverdon't round here. (I am a little less upset about this after reading that they are shit to their staff.)
4. Indie restaurants. We have Pizza Express, GBK, Wagas, Carluccio's - all perfectly serviceable for a quick lunch. But there's nothing that special on our doorstep - nothing unique, no interesting new cuisines to try. There IS however an awesome chippy, which we have been to about 97 times since moving in.
5. Public services. No, not dodgy loos or telephone boxes. But things like the doctors and dentists. For all its faults, London seems to be pretty well catered for when it comes to your health. I could walk to both my doctors and my NHS dentist from my flat, and both were excellent. Since moving here I've been looking into finding a new GP for us all and most of them aren't taking new patients - as for NHS dentists, it'd be easier to find a Labour voter. Surrey people seem to like paying for the dentist. I don't understand why.  I am so cross about this, in fact, that I've decided to carry on going to my old dentist for now. If this is immoral or illegal, then please tell me off in the comments (not sure I'll care however).
6. Uber. I suspect Uber does operate round here (just about) but the price of a cab home from central London would be about the same as our weekly shop, rather than the £15 or so it used to be.
7. Oyster cards. I should have put this one up there with trains really. But in order to get into town now I have to buy a paper ticket! It's so quaint! It's also very confusing, what with off-peak this and super off-peak that and restrictions on what time you can sneeze at London Waterloo... We're just outside zone 6 out here, so we also have to shell out more than £20 for a one-day travelcard. Ouch.
8. Last but very not least - my friends. I miss my London pals. Most of my friends are still London pals (although hurrah for school friends who live near where we've moved to!). A few London mates have moved out, like us, but many of them are still in town and lots of them are in SE London, which is a proper trek from me now. Sniff.

BUT do I regret it, despite all this? Absolutely NOT. Here are just some of the things I love about living out of London...

1. The space. This counts for about five points up there I think. We have space! We have a big garden. We have a front garden. We have a garage. We have off-street parking. It is so lovely not to feel hemmed in on all sides by people and buildings and traffic. It's the most freeing, stress-releasing thing ever. Big thumbs up.
2. The air quality. It is awesome. I walk home from the station and maybe one car goes past, and I realise that I can't smell drains or fried chicken or diesel fumes. OK, so it's not quite the Scottish highlands, but I really think it's made a difference to the way I feel.
3. The people. There are less of them which just makes everything more peaceful, and hands down, people are politer. People in London are so busy, so stressed, so 'in the middle of something'. Here, people take time to smile at you, hold doors open, have little chats with Daph. It's so strange, in fact, that first of all I found it a bit unnerving. But whenever I take Daph to Sainsbury's we get stopped by the cashiers, or little old ladies who want to find out how old she is (and try to make her wave, which is embarrassing, because she usually blows them a raspberry instead). But it just feels so much friendlier as a community. This has surprised me a lot, because I always thought London had a great community feel, but I guess that was just pockets of people in amongst lots of transient people who were just there for work or whatever. So it never felt quite like this. The neighbours here are all very friendly and came round to say hello as soon as we moved in, but they are polite enough to keep their distance too.
4. The proximity to my folks. OK, this one is a bit niche, but it's lovely that I'm now only a 20 minute drive from my parents. It's made babysitting opportunities much more frequent (hurrah!) but also means we don't have to sit in terrible traffic every time we want to visit them.
5. And on that note, the traffic. It has its moments round here (school rush hours etc) but mostly it's A DREAM. Wimbledon is basically a 24 hour car park. I could easily spend 25 minutes driving a mile and a half. I wish I was exaggerating, but if you've ever sat going nowhere fast on Kingston Road you'll know I'm not.
6. The proximity to parks and stuff. And the countryside. And the motorways. All pretty self explanatory - because we don't have to negotiate London traffic to get anywhere, everything's a lot more accessible.
7. The quiet. You can hear a bloody pin drop outside our house. It's insane. And on that note, have I mentioned that cul de sacs are AMAZING? Everyone should live in a cul de sac. It puts your quality of life up by about a million percent. As well as your Amazon Prime expenditure (my 'safe place' = my front porch).
8. The hedgehogs. We have hedgehogs in our garden. NEED I SAY MORE.

So yes, that's my little round up. I'll probably think of a million things to add to this later but for now I'm off to have my dinner. Hope it's helpful if you're trying to make a decision to move out of London or not. I will say that without Daph as a priority, we probably would have stayed in Wimbledon, but I'm so glad we didn't because I really do prefer this way of life now. Call it old age, call it tired of London, tired of life, but I think there's something really important to be said for slowing down the pace a bit, taking time to appreciate peace and quiet. It's made a huge difference to my wellbeing.

Midweek Musings: Crushed fingers and karma

Sooo, there was meant to be a really fascinating (!) blog post coming your way over the weekend but then on Saturday I decided to shut the car door on my hand. This happened just as I'd met up with a friend and her four-year-old for lunch, and yes of course I had the baby with me and of course it was my right hand and of course I was parked somewhere I shouldn't have been about half an hour from home. And of course it was a Saturday and Oli was at work until 10.30pm.  So that was quite fun. We made it to lunch in the end, and everyone in Pizza Express was very kind and no one said anything about the fact that one of my hands was wrapped in a muslin soaked in blood. Hope it didn't put anyone off their pizzas.

The upshot of this moment of clumsiness is that I am now unable to use my right-hand ring finger - I don't think it's broken as it's not wonky and I can bend it without it hurting too much, but my fingernail is clinging on somewhat precariously and underneath it is an interesting black-blue-red pattern, complete with dried blood that I'm too scared to pick off. Oh and it keeps oozing too. Lovely. So, I've been trying to type as little as possible, hence the lack of blog post this weekend. I have to say, it's amazing a) how painful just crushing even one finger is and b) how much you need your bloody fingers. OK, I know that sounds really obvious but even washing my hair in the shower has been a challenge. I also seem to constantly be knocking it on things and it feels as though someone is electrocuting it each time - unbelievable how many nerve endings are bundled up in your fingertip. Ouch ouch ouch.

Along with that joy, I have also caught a cold and given it to Daph. Just last week I was smugly telling Oli that I 'never get colds' (while he was sniffling away) and so I am now a walking, snotty example that karma does exist and karma will get you. Daph seems to be faring better than me, but she still has a little bit of a chesty cough which sounds so cute and heartbreaking all at the same time.

So yes, with that cheery update, I will bid you farewell till next week!

PS I am up to 22k words on the novel. Woo!

Midweek Musings: Writing and Dancing

Hello hello, sorry I haven't done a midweek catch up for a couple of weeks (and this one is a day late). Sometimes I get all cringey at myself and think, god Charlotte, midweek musings, what are you on about, who the F cares? But then I remember that, er, I care, and it's nice to have these little diary entries to look back on. Especially since I have the memory of an aged goldfish.

So, yes, it's been a busy old week or so. Oli opened with his show, The Last Tango. In case you haven't heard about it, or seen the posters on the tube, it's another dance show from the very lovely Flavia Cacace and Vincent Simone, and Oli sings all the songs for it. On stage. He had to learn 17 songs for this show, which made for an interesting (read: stressful) two weeks when he was in rehearsal... But it's opened now, and is going well, and he's had some fab reviews which always makes me all proud and glowy inside. I went along to the press do last week with my sister and it was full of folk from Strictly, who are all universally lovely, it seems. There were also a few slebs there, but I'm pretty shocking at having a clue who people are (I swear I could be stood next to Angelina Jolie in Boots* and have no idea who she was), so my sister had to fill me in. Unlike at the press night for Oli's last show, she didn't get drunk and offend Brendan Cole (long story). No gossip, everyone was very well behaved. And everyone I spoke to told me how proud I must be of Oli, and how fabulous his singing is, which is always cheering.

On the subject of dancing, someone else in our family has decided to try it (I say someone else, Oli can't dance for toffee, and neither can I). We noticed this week that little Daph has now started bopping her body about when she hears music - it is SO. BLOODY. CUTE. She can even keep time pretty well - it's sooo sweet and funny. Especially as she doesn't really smile while doing it, which makes it seem like some kind of strange involuntary reaction - CAN HEAR MUSIC, MUST MOVE BODY kind of thing. Babies are amazing.

In other news, I started my six-month Writing a Novel course at the Faber Academy last week and am enjoying it immensely. Aside from anything else, it's so lovely having something to get a bit dressed up for (this sounds wrong, afear ye not, I'm not turning up in stilettos and a ball gown - I just mean putting on something other than stained jeans and a t shirt) and it's fab to be using my brain again and talking to creative types. We're in groups of 15, and my group is a really eclectic mix of screenwriters, actors, lawyers, journalists, film producers and even an architect. The best thing about this course so far is that every exercise is focused on the novel you are meant to be writing, so everything is relevant - there's no pointless academia or tests or anything like that. I've been making quite good progress with my novel, and I'm up to 12,000 words now. I'm setting myself a target of 10,000 words a week, which is pretty ambitious, but I'm at home five nights a week alone while Oli is working on this show, so I figure I ought to be able to get 2000 words done each time. Obviously this is creating the very model of a shitty first draft, but that's OK. I want to get my first draft finished by Christmas, so I can edit it next term. Fingers crossed!

*an unlikely scenario, granted

One and done?

A couple of people I know who had babies around the same time as me have recently announced that they are expecting again. I have to say, when I found out, both times I was incredibly shocked. The idea of having another baby so soon (or what feels like so soon) after Daphne is terrifying. But as well as feeling shocked, I felt a little jealous. Perhaps it's something about being pregnant, that kind of special status you get, and the amazing load of feel-good hormones that come with newborns.

When Daphne was first born, within weeks I was thinking about having another baby. I actually said I definitely wanted another one - I loved her so much, and it was such an addictive feeling. I remember telling friends that I'd be happy to do it all again soon. Fast forward a year, and I have changed my mind so completely and utterly that it's kind of scary. Obviously I still love her so much - in fact, a lot more - but I am no longer under the influence of those new mother hormones and am instead ravaged and slightly beaten by a whole year of sleep deprivation.

There is nothing like sleep deprivation on that kind of scale really. Before Daphne was born I knew I was in for a few months of being pretty tired, but I had absolutely no idea what the reality would be like. And how unbelievably difficult it would be - definitely the hardest thing I've ever had to deal with in my entire life. It affects everything - your relationship with your partner, your self-esteem, your health, your happiness... your weight! That's not to say that it isn't worth it, because of course it is, but it's still so awful that I can't imagine putting myself through it willingly again.

Of course, maybe I'd have a better sleeper the next time around. Maybe my next baby would be those so-called 'easy' babies that sleep through at nine weeks, breastfeed like a dream and have laid-back, sunny personalities. But what if they don't? What if they're even more difficult? What if my pregnancy is just as complicated or even more complicated than last time? I don't think I have the mental strength.

I've never been the kind of maternal person who planned on having 2.4 children etc etc.  Children were always a bit vague in my mind - a hazy idea that I hoped would happen at some point. So I don't have that over-riding feeling that our family isn't complete unless there's four of us. But by the same token, it's hard to say definitively that I don't want any more kids. The truth is, I really don't know.

None of this matters really - if you don't know the answer, live with the question etc. Both Oli and I are slightly old for first-time parents, but this isn't enough of a worry to make me think I have to get on with it, or make a decision right now. It's just something I've been thinking about, following my friends' news, and also because we've started packing up some of Daphne's baby bits - not just her clothes, but bigger things like the Perfect Prep machine, her nursing chair, the Jumperoo, her bouncy chair etc. And I'm not sure what to do with them. Sell them, or keep them just in case? They're in the garage at the moment.

I always thought having two children seemed like a sensible idea because then your little one always has someone else to play with, and I can't imagine life without my sister, but then someone reminded me that siblings don't always get on, and sometimes they fight just as much as they entertain each other. And of course, from a parenting point of view, two kids means twice as much attention, twice as little sleep, twice as much money... Is it perhaps better to focus all our efforts and energies on one, especially now that having an only child is becoming increasingly more 'normal'? Will it be better for Daphne to have our undivided attention? I love our little band of three, and I don't know if I can face being pregnant and having a newborn again. But then will it be sad for Daph in the future not to have a little companion, and what about when we've shuffled off our mortal coils? Who will love her as much as we do?

I'd love to hear what other mums think about this issue and how you've decided (or not) how many children is right for you... it's such a fascinating decision. If you fancy sharing your thoughts, please leave me a comment here or over on Facebook.

Midweek Musings: eBay agony and parenting solo again

My god I am knackered! Oli has been leaving for rehearsals this week at 8.30am and getting home at 11pm (which I am sure is against EU working hours but anyway). And Daph has suddenly turned into Mrs Clingy/Whiny, and now shrieks if I'm not in the same room as her and looking at the exact same thing as her ALL THE TIME.

NO MUMMY YOU MAY NOT PASS GO AND GO TO THE TOILET FOR TWO MINS. NO MUMMY YOU MAY NOT DRINK OUT OF THAT GLASS. I WANT THAT GLASS! NO MUMMY YOU MAY NOT CHECK YOUR EMAILS GIVE ME YOUR PHONE NOW NOW NOW. NO MUMMY HOW DARE YOU TRY TO EAT SOMETHING OFF YOUR PLATE I WANT IT EVEN THOUGH THE EXACT SAME THING IS ON MY PLATE.

She's also started pulling on my trouser legs, which is kind of cute but actually quite painful when she decides to headbutt my shins. I need ALL the gin tonight, I tell you.

I have to say too what an ABSOLUTE IDIOT I was for gloating about her sleeping through the night in my last post, as she has now decided to do the most weird random wake ups ever. Her naps have also gone to pot over the last few days - 20 minute crap naps are the order of the day and then she wakes up screaming. God knows what's going on in her little brain but I think it must be developmental as I can see her personality changing a lot too. Oh, and she is very definitely pointing - hurrah! And also giving 'cuddles' (launching herself at you and biting the nearest piece of your clothing with an impressive intensity as she buries her head in your shoulder) and 'kisses' (blowing raspberries against your cheek) if you ask her. Which is just about cute enough to stop me leaving her out for the bin men.

In other news, we decided to sell some furniture on eBay last week and my god, what an absolute pigging palaver it has been. I do NOT recommend it. Not only is eBay's UI ridiculously un-user friendly, trying to sell something is also the most complicated process ever known to mankind. I just want £300 for this furniture right? I added a Buy it Now price but missed the fact that there's a 'Best Offer' button you need to untick, and so I am receiving offers left right and centre, accompanied by passive aggressive emails from strangers telling me to 'get back to me soon yeah so we can get this thing sorted', even though they've offered £100 less than I wanted. Then there's another handful of cheery chaps who keep trying to offer me cash and do it all outside of eBay, excusing the derisory amounts they're proposing by claiming I'd pay the difference on fees if I went through eBay officially. Then there's people asking me to arrange couriers for them. I did actually manage to sell one piece for the amount I wanted but now eBay keeps deleting my messages to the buyer because I want to include my contact details (which is fair enough right, when you've already sold something!?), causing all manner of bloody confusion.

I just want someone to buy this friggin furniture for the price I have asked and come and collect it themselves. How can it be so complicated? HOW! I want to defect to Gumtree (in hindsight I should have just done Gumtree to start with) but eBay keeps telling me I can't cancel the listing because I have offers I haven't responded to or something... I mean, god. Life is too short to spend two hours a night emailing people called chelseaponies354 and cables4u976 haggling over a tenner. How do people do this for a living?!

Midweek Musings: Exciting news and Daph updates

Phew! It's been a busy old week. Oli has started rehearsing for his new show, which has meant childcare musical chairs for everyone so that I can still do my in-house office work. Again, thank god for my mum. It'd be so much easier to get Daph a childminder sometimes but I don't think anyone would have us with our annoyingly inconsistent hours.

But anyway, the future is looking a bit different (read: exciting!) for me, as I found out last week that I got a place on the Faber Academy 'Writing a Novel' course. I applied a few months ago and it's been literal agony waiting to hear if I got on - I even googled myself into insanity by finding someone on Mumsnet who had applied for the same course and was offered a place about a month ago. I was convinced, therefore, that I hadn't got on.

For those not in the know, it's a six-month course, run by publishers Faber & Faber and based in their Bloomsbury office. It's spawned a load of exciting writers, including SJ Watson (Before I Go To Sleep) and numerous book deals. It's not cheap, and even though a few of my friends said I was mad to apply because a) one of its main aims is to get you a literary agent and I already have one and b) I could just spend the money on clothes and write the damn book on my own, I really really love working with others and meeting new people and collaborating and just sharing experiences. I'm a bit of a sucker for training/education in that sense. And it gives me a goal - I'd like to finish the first draft of the new book I've just started by the end of the course, and doing it also means I HAVE to take writing seriously for the next few months. It's so easy with writing to let it fall to the back burner in favour of bread and butter stuff (which is obviously essential!) but I feel a bit like it's 'now or never' for me. I'm really lucky in that I've still got money left from selling my business so I can afford to have a career break right now. Although I am still working a couple of days a week too, as well as doing my half of the childcare... hmm, hopefully my social life will still be there when I'm done?!

Oh, and eeep, the course I'm doing is run by Joanna Briscoe. Even more exciting. If a little intimidating.

Anyway, before I found out I got a place I started writing something new. Something a little bit different and a little bit risky but I'm feeling fired up about it which is such a great feeling after so long. I forgot how addictive and obsessive writing can become when you're excited about something!

In other news, we took Daph for her development check up yesterday. The doctor was pleased with her progression re crawling, but she's still not pulling up to stand, or standing by herself if we pull her up. She also always rests her weight on her tiptoes - in fact sometimes her feet kind of curl right over so that she's resting on the top of her foot which looks so painful and wrong! He said she has really tight calf muscles (weirdly so do I) and in fact her muscles are a little 'too strong' so we have to massage her feet and ankles to try to get her to put her feet flat. He seems to think she'll get there eventually, but she may walk on tiptoe for a few months. Like I've said many times, she ain't gonna be an Olympic gymnast, bless her.

He actually said he was more worried about the fact she wasn't using specific words for specific people/things yet. She's thirteen months old on Saturday and a few of my friends with babies of similar ages don't seem to think theirs do either, but perhaps they're being nice. Daph says LOADS now - makes a huge range of sounds and lots of baby googledegook with mixed consonants/vowels etc. But nothing really specific. She says Dee Dee and Daddy a lot, but not at anything or anyone in particular. She also says 'Dink' which my mum thinks means she wants a drink but I've yet to really truthfully spot a correlation there. So a bit concerning but I still think she'll get there - we know she's running on a slightly delayed schedule but she does seem to always find her way in the end. The doctor even said she might just be a bit shy at trying to do things she's not good at, which kind of makes sense, she's definitely a cautious soul! Anyway, he told us to come back in two months if she still wasn't using five or more words with meaning, and then he'd 'refer her right away'. So another little target for our little girl - fingers crossed she can do it!

Midweek Musings: Hedgehogs, Childcare and (not) Working 9 to 5

Did I mention before that we have hedgehogs in our new garden? Every evening they scuttle past the French windows on their way to two doors down, where our neighbour leaves food out for them. They're really fast as they zip back and forwards! Yesterday Oli did some gardening and we unearthed one hiding under a plant - he didn't look very impressed to see us but wasn't obviously injured, so we left him there. I was worried about him though, because it said hedgehogs that were out in the daytime were probably in trouble. And this morning he had moved himself about a foot onto the lawn and was just lying there not moving, so we phoned our local Wildlife Rescue centre and they told us to bring him in. We've left him there overnight and we find out if he made it tomorrow. Fingers crossed, poor mite.

In other COMPLETELY unrelated news, today we went to view a nursery. Oli and I have been back and forward on the subject of childcare for Daph - we both work pretty random and unconventional hours. For the past few months I've been working one and a half days a week for a company - one day in the office and half a day from home, and then freelancing as and when stuff comes in. So Oli is usually able to look after Daph when I'm working in the office. Then the rest of the freelancing I do when she's napping or Oli takes her out for the day, or I do it in the evenings. Either way, it's worked quite well so far, except for when Oli's been working away and my mum's had to step in (my mum is a lifesaver!).

However, Oli starts a new job next week - he's going to be the vocalist for Vincent and Flavia's (of Strictly fame) new show The Last Tango. Thankfully it's only in the west end, not a tour (he was offered the tour of the same show last year but given that rehearsals started the day Daph was born, it wasn't really feasible. Plus I'd been a tour widow for most of my pregnancy and it's a bloody lonely life so I confess I did do a bit of weepy pregnant woman emotional blackmail). But anyway, he'll be leaving the house at around 4pm to get to work, which means I can't work do my full day in the office any longer. Most people would just get childcare and we have considered it, but it's so expensive and feels like a bit of an indulgence when we can probably make it work with a bit of juggling (luckily my office job is flexible!).

As for work... I've actually been trying to work less over the past few months - in hindsight I was crazy to start trying to work when Daph was only four months old. I think it was just my pride taking over, trying to prove that being a mother wouldn't stop me from carrying on as before. But now I look back and think why the hell didn't I just have a proper break and relax?! I remember going in to do a freelance day when I'd had about three hours' sleep - it was such a struggle to get through the day and I just felt dizzy and disorientated thanks to the bucketloads of caffeine I'd thrown down my neck. I've turned down quite a bit of freelance work in the past month or so which is terrifying (usually if you turn stuff down you don't get asked again) but at the same time quite liberating.

I really want to have a proper break and thankfully I do have something incredibly exciting planned for the next six months (more on that soon). But long-term I need to focus on what the heck I am going to do next. As I've mentioned before I didn't plan on having no job to return to after having a baby but thems the breaks. Freelancing is great for the flexibility but boy is it lonely, and I really miss being part of a team and, well, office gossip in general. So, I'm seriously considering retraining, but that's a whole other blog post...