Hell’s bells, what a week it’s been.
If you follow me on instagram, you will have already seen me moaning on about being ill this time last week. I managed to get mastitis (mastitis! I ask you! With a nine-month-old! That is something to keep you occupied while you have a newborn, isn’t it?!) which completely floored me for three days.
Before I was sick, I would have said, “Mmmm, three days in bed, just lounging around and relaxing while someone else looks after the kids. Bliss!”
But, actually, with a fever and a temperature and shaking and sweating and chills and vomiting… …well, guess what, it wasn’t a huge amount of fun.
I also missed my beloved garden design course last week as a result and then didn’t have a chance to talk through the first assignment with my tutor.
And then my baby got sick. And then he came out in a rash – we later found out as a reaction to his antibiotics.
Oh and our broadband went down for five days, which meant I couldn’t even get started on my huge, gigantic first garden design assignment until a few days before it was due in.
So, Wednesday, everyone is finally better, broadband is back up and I had to start working like a crazy person trying to finish in time for the Friday deadline.
Anyway, all of which was supposed to be a little brief few lines to explain why I’ve been a little absent here recently, but of course turned into a full-blown moan. What can I say? I just can’t help grinching when I’m ill…
But, phew, here we are on the other side and it’s the weekend again. This weekend is all about painting the house. As you might remember, our decorating attempts have been a little slooooow since we moved back after all the building work, ahem, a whole year ago now. The downstairs is more or less finished, but the two main bedrooms upstairs are still bare plaster on the walls.
We’ve booked a carpenter to come round and put shelves up for us in a few weeks, which means we need to get the paint up in the sprog’s room and our room pretty sharpish. This weekend is the turn of the sprog’s room. His cot is in our room, we’re in the spare bedroom, the littlest is squeezed in wherever he is least likely to be woken up (most likely in bed with us in the spare room, I suspect…)
And, now I’ve written this, I’m off to paint and paint and paint, and hope we can get a good first coat up this evening. Phew. I feel a little worn out already just thinking about it.