The nit crisis!

My excitement at a free afternoon came to nothing at about 10.45am this morning – 15 minutes before my boy was due to go to the hairdresser – when I spotted something dark right in the centre of his scalp, shining out amidst his blonde curls.

When it moved I knew I had a serious problem.

So instead of doing leisurely laps at the swimming pool – head strictly above water, full make-up intact of course – or wandering round galleries or reading a newspaper over a latte, I was frantically chucking everything into the washing machine, bathing, combing, applying ointment.

Twice, to be safe.

I wonder if there will ever be a time when I stop being itchy.

The little fuckers better all be dead in the morning.

But looking on the bright side, which of course is the nature of this blog, at least my son’s induction into the cult of Scottish Football will be postponed for a little while longer!

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The Friday feeling

So the week ends on a high!

You just can’t beat a Friday.  How many days are simply wasted by counting down to the day that signals a collective sigh of relief.

It didn’t start well, however.

Shouty Mama returned – and no I didn’t pledge on January 1st to shout less at my kid, there is no point.

Two minutes after we’re due to leave I suggest he should get dressed. No, that’s not quite right. I demanded he get dressed.

‘I’m not ready to’, he replies.

Seriously, who does he think he is? Frickin’ Lady GaGa.

So imagine my delight half way through the day when my lovely brother offers to take darling T  to a football match, giving me a free afternoon on a Saturday.

Do I think Tynecastle is an appropriate place for a three-year-old?

No, not at all.

Do I want my son indoctrinated into the soul destroying, pointless pasttime that is following Scottish Football.

God no. A life sentence would be more pleasurable.

But a FREE afternoon on a Saturday. I’m fucking delighted.

So my day was significantly cheered by the prospect of planning these few spare hours tomorrow afternoon.

Let the weekend commence!

The return

The biggest challenge for this new positive mental attitude – first established on 1 January, and estimated to last approximately seven days – was the return to work on the 4th.

And, newsflash, it wasn’t that bad. In fact I was in what was something quite possibly approximating a good mood.

The boy got dressed, ate breakfast and went to nursery on time without even a murmur of a protest.

I caught the express bus and even felt a slight spring in my step as I made my way to the decaying old building disguising as the office of a slick communications operation for one of the world’s best universities.

Routine felt comfortable. The fresh air felt inspiring. I was ready to give up my festive existence remaining in nightwear, eating chocolates nonstop with one hand, flicking between one mediocre christmas film to another with another, while simultaneously thinking up reasons why I had something better to do than play shops/fireman/crane drivers with my beloved child.

So Wednesday was a good day, quite simply because it wasn’t quite so godawful as I ‘d imagined.

I even managed jovial chat with colleagues. You’d be mistaken for thinking I actually enjoyed spending time with them.

The cheer didn’t last.

Today I ran out of positivity.

I could have felt good about our director coming round to each of us individually to wish us a happy new year. There was even a handshake but thank god there was no kiss.

This merely reminded me that he is a bit of a knob.

I could have appreciated the crisp blue sky – a blessed relief after tornado-style winds and freezing cold rain.

But my walk outdoors was to go sale shopping. I came away empty handed realising that the only things I liked were either in obscure sizes or typically not in the sale.

I did try on a couple of things. Big mistake so soon after Christmas. Though apparently those changing room mirrors do lie. Unfortunately for me they are designed to make people look better.

Shit.

Tommorrow is another day. But judging by my reflection, I can’t even look forward to cake.

New year, new attitude

So here we are, 2012.

This year I am not going to vow to lose weight, though I need to.

Nor am I going to offer to drink less. Drinking more should definitely a priority, however.

This January, staring at the blank calendar of 2012, I am going to resolve to find the positive in every single day.

2011 was tough. No-one died, no-one got sick, it was just a year when too many plans got abandoned, too many false starts were made.

This year I will focus on the good that already exists.

Three days in and it has already been a challenge but there has been a little to be happy about.

I will write off New Year’s Day. Literally nothing happened. At all. I could fake some mush about being with loved ones but that would be bullshit. The most exciting event was David Wicks’ return to Eastenders for Pat’s death. However, my three-year-old refused to go to bed spoiling a seminal moment in soap history. Still, it was most definitely a highlight in what is generally one of the most disappointing days of the year rivalled mainly by Christmas Day.

So roll in the 2nd January, where we edge towards normality and face up to our festive hangover which generally involves a large drain in the bank balance. Money largely spent on gifts that people have forgotten about, booze that is the only way to survive the organised fun that generally populates this time of year and food that helps stave off the fucking boredom.

So it was with great delight that I experienced my first Aldi shopping trip. My excitement at picking up a jar of mixed fruit jam to placate my toddler for a mere 29p was the best natural high I’ve had in some time. Budget baps swiftly followed alongside many more fridge and larder staples. Shopping in Aldi will be my new New Year’s Resolution. Sod the January detox when you can enjoy Ballycastle Irish Cream accompanied by pizza, pudding and a bar of chocolate for under a tenner. Result!

The Aldi cheer was shortlived after watching Sam Mendes’ Revolutionary Road. A film that depressingly documents the unravelling of a marriage between characters played by Leo Dicaprio and Kate Winslet. The wife in the piece dares to question and challenge the emptiness of their suburban lives with tragic consequences. Not quite the antidote to the January blues I was in search of.

So I would have to dig deep to find something today to make me smile. Waking up to a hurricane banging shut the stair door several times was not the best start and the windy conditions meant that my toddler and I would be couped up in our tiny flat for the day. Mmm. Never the most inspiring propsect.

However, while searching for envelopes I found tucked at the back of a drawer something in Amazon packaging. I opened it up quite excited to discover a Thomas the Tank Engine Misty Island DVD I’d bought for my little boy and completely forgotten to give it to him for Christmas. He was ecstatic and seemed to buy my tale about Santa leaving it there, keeping the magic of Christmas alive for him a little longer. Plus it bought me a couple of hours peace and quiet.

So let’s see what tomorrow brings? Back to work, so I will have to be creative to find the good in that!