Sunday, 8 February 2009

Sunday sunday, Sir Richard Burton in the National Portrait Gallery

Sunday 8th February

The Guardian reader got back before Erbie’s midnight feed last night, saying ‘ I love my wife, and I love my baby’, and although no longer banished there, fell asleep on the sofa before we’d finished. I slipped into the living room for a bit of, well, unmentionable, but accidently knocked into a picture, the crash caused him much anxiety and took the edge off somewhat, so I went back to bed. Erbie woke up twice before 3.30am, then I took him into the bed with me, he fed twice more then woke up and was very verbal, I checked my mobile and saw 6.30am, so changed his nappy and played with him until 7, but when I checked my mobile again, it was only 6.28am, oh bother. So another hour of semi sleep and gurgling in the bed, and I gave up and got us both up. I think he’s teething quite badly, serious chomping on everything again, and flushed cheeks. We took him out for a walk, strapped to daddy, down to the National Portrait Gallery to look at the Lord Leighton portrait of Sir Richard Burton, the explorer. He was happy and gurgling on the walk, and the blister seems to have dried up, thank goodness.

My writing is so dull, I haven’t really found my voice. I hope doing this will encourage me to improve and hopefully my brain, being a muscle, will expand with use!

We went to see the flat below today, the tenant, was a city boy and has lost his job, so is moving on. It’s the same price, but bigger, just what we need, and would mean just moving downstairs, too good to be true? Of course it was too good to be true. We were just about to agree on taking it, when Guardian reader suggested, the managing agent went and put the music on in the shop below, a vibration instantly started pumping through the floor and the walls began to close in, not good. So what seemed like a potential yes, suddenly became a definate no. It has made us realise we do want somewhere with more space, and that it doesn’t have to be two bedroom. We both want to stay in Fitzrovia, but a quieter street and slightly more space - for less money would be ideal, is that too much to ask, may be not in this climate.

Erbie had a nap around 12.30 for 45minutes and another one at 3.30pm with me for an hour, then top and tail and asleep by 6.20pm. I gave him a dose of baby nurofen, which I hate doing but, his little cheeks were so red, and he's so even tempered, he hardly ever complains. He woke around 9.30pm, and by his coughing mews I thought he was hungry, so got him out, and indeed he had a good feed.

2 of my items on ebay sold, for a marginal profit, I designed and printed out a business card, and did a little research for our children’s book idea. If one was to save a million in 5 years, how much would that be a day? £547.95. Cripes. It would be wonderful if we could afford to buy somewhere in town by the time Erbie is 5, and ready for school. Mind you he’s an August baby, so that only gives us 4 years. I have a romantic ideal of the lovely school over in Mayfair, near the library. Walking up there hand in hand, satchels, knee high socks...

Guardian reader went to Tesco via our dream house and says it looks like someone is moving in, the lights were on and two vases had appeared on the fireplace. I printed out a picture of the road and put that on our fireplace, positive visualisation…

Tomorrow, we must both job search in earnest.

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‘They tuck you up your mum and dad...’
Anon - after Larkin

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Anais Nin

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Eliza Doolittle