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What's that supposed to mean?
MOT = New rear brake cylinder, pads and pipes.
This is obviously something that is all my fault. The way the bill + certificate were thrown down infront of me accompanied by " You are very hard on your brakes" gave it away but, I don't understand what he means. I don't shout at them, reprimand them, or make them feel they are not appreciated. I admit I don't thank them when I use them, is he suggesting that I use them too much? What does he propose instead, grab hold of a few branches or lamposts as I pass?
Decision Day
I made a decision yesterday, or rather events made a decision yesterday. I had been flirting with the idea of applying to manage a birth centre. My bosses had told me that the post would be coming up and that they thought it would be 'my dream job'. I had pondered and dwelt on the idea, spoken to my manager, who had offered her help in calming me down sufficiently to get me through interview, I am useless at interviews, as a previous interviewer said to me 'you must blow your own trumpet', but I still had some reservations. My main reason for not applying was that, on the whole, I enjoy hands on midwifery.
I went into work yesterday and the phone rang, it was a woman who was progressing rapidly in labour I didn't think that she would make it into the hospital. Two midwives rushed out of the office, hotly pursued by my student, and zoomed out to catch a baby. I went out and about doing far more mundane midwife 'things'. A couple of hours later my student phoned and asked where she should meet me. She was on a high, her first home birth. We went on with our tasks, booked a lady who had moved into the area, wanting a home birth, student developed verbal diahorrea, eulogising her earlier experience. Next it was a 'stretch and sweep' on one of my Mum's, also booked for a home birth, student left her phone number to be contacted the minute anything happened. A couple more visits and then heading back to the hospital, it was about 4.30. My mobile rang and since I am a good, law-abiding citizen student answered it. From the conversation I gathered that someone, somewhere was in labour, I pulled over. Yes, it was a lady, no longer part of my caseload, but she was having contractions and would I go round and see what was happening, 15 miles away. In the end her midwife went round whilst I waited at the hospital to see if they needed any help. 5.30pm the call came through, yes, she's decided not to come into the hospital, she's having baby at home, come now.
Of we speeded. Student phoned Hubby for me to tell him I would be late, and to carry on with the curry without me, I'd join them later. Student assured him that I was being kind to my brakes, I was attempting not to use them! We arrived, unloaded our equipment, and settled down. After an hour Mum's contractions started slowing down, reading her notes this was what had happened last time, I asked her husband if they had any honey. 'Humour me' I requested, as all in the room looked at me as if I had suddenly mounted a broomstick whilst stroking a black cat. A spoonful of honey was swallowed by Mum, and we waited. Twenty minutes later and off we went. Contractions back with a vengance, 10 minutes later an 8 pound 12oz little girl, they already had a little boy sleeping upstairs, came into the world. Dad, who had been very worried about a homebirth, was over the moon. Wonderful, was his verdict. We tidied up, helped Mum have a bath, had a quick cup of coffee, and left. I got to the restaurant, luckily I had manged not to mess up my clothes, and was greeted by a round of applause.
So, whats my decision? Do I go after a job that pays oodles more? Work 9-5pm. Not be late for dinner reservations. Be kind to my brakes! Not be on-call, driving around in all weather conditions. There's no contest really.
Jack stayed last night. Apart from the early morning wake-up, 5.40am, all went well. His Mummy brings him into bed when he wakes, gives him booby, and he snuggles down for another hour or so. Unfortunately Nanny doesn't have this source of pacification so it was up and atom. Nanny is now wilting. Daughter came to pick him up at 11 am, I had been picturing me sneaking back to bed to catch up on my sleep, no such luck, they stayed, son came round, we went shopping came back and pregnant daughter was ensconced in the sitting-room, her bedroom is being re-plastered and she was escaping.
Yesterday pregnant daughter had an antenatal with A, her midwife. All was well but A is in agreement with me that either -
a) Daughter is having a large ++ baby or,
b) The scans are wrong and her dates are right, this would make her 31 not 29 weeks, and would lessen the wonderment about Baby Beans size.
We also took her on a tour of the maternity unit. Bad idea. She doesn't like it and it has only served to strengthen her resolve to crawl into a drawer under the bed to give birth. Mind you, she may not have a choice if the placenta hasn't shifted out of the way.
Hubby is really getting into the decorating the dining-room groove. Well, he says that's what he's doing, but for the last three weeks now he has been 'filling'. I have this mental image of the walls and ceiling becoming thicker and thicker, whilst the floor space becomes less and less, we won't be able to fit in there at this rate.
Nesting
I'm playing Mummy again. Having had the house to ourselves for two years we have pregnant daughter and her partner staying, and it's lovely. It's really well-timed as I've got the week off work so can spend the day catching-up on all the things I don't get round to when I'm working, minor things like dusting, polishing and tidying, but oddest of all - preparing an evening meal. Usually we have something quick and easy, but since Friday I have been cooking real meals, and, strangest of all , enjoying it! Their visit is short-term though so that probably explains the Stepford Wife outlook. Why are they staying? On Friday I went down to their little house to help daughter with stripping wallpaper and sealing the walls in their bedroom prior to them, the walls, being plastered over the weekend. On Saturday all appeared to be progressing well, albeit that the whole house was covered in dust and plaster, but then the final wall held a nasty surprise, the plaster had 'blown' because it had been put onto wood. This meant that all the plaster had to be ripped off, the workmen turned every room into a disaster zone, the house looks as if Mount St Helens erupted in the back garden, and it's scheduled to go on until Thursday, thats when I made an executive decision, come and stay until it's all finished. The whole DIY thing is daughters fault really. She is nesting in a major way. They had lived there quite happily for a year, trying for a baby, and then she became pregnant. Suddenly they had to have central heating and a new bathroom suite. Tiles were bought for the bathroom and redecoration commenced. With the tiling and the new floor nearly finished, she decided to decorate their bedroom, that's when the poor condition of the walls was discovered. In between she stripped the beams in the sitting-room and started removing the paint from the fireplace. The kitchen is falling to pieces, all the cupboard doors are broken, so when our neighbours decided to have a new kitchen, their old one is only 4 years old, I said we would buy their old one from them. They said 'No', we could have it for nothing, complete with the range cooker, this was scheduled for March. When the arrangements were made that seemed ages away, now their kitchen is being taken out in 10 days, so in the middle of all this chaos at daughters we are now planning when to take out her old kitchen, and put the 'new' one in. All of this with Baby Beans arrival drawing ever closer and daughter becoming ever more stressed. Perhaps this explains my executive decision to move them here whilst the renovating continues.
On Sunday I drove up the M1 to collect one of my E-Bay purchases, a baby-walker for Jack to keep at Nanny's house. I'm really pleased with it, an absolute bargain, and it even came complete with batteries, all for £6.
Hoping for white-out, later.
It snows for 5 minutes, then stops. No sign 10 minutes later that anything has happened, yet 10 miles down the road, the golf course, it is covered in snow so poor old Hubby isn't having his usual Wednesday afternoon jolly, aahhh. I want it to snow here, deep drifts, silent roads, that weird cotton-wool compressing sound under your feet. Mind you, if I was working this week I would be praying that the wintery weather continued to by-pass us, last years experience of hours trying to get home, from a surgery in the middle of nowhere, has convinced me that community midwifery and adverse weather conditions are not good companions.
Jack's Mummy has just phoned, their heating is on the blink, again, the clutch on her car has gone, so I'm off on a mercy mission with two electric heaters, please don't let it snow, well not until I'm back.
Spent yesterday at pregnant daughters house attempting to clear up after the plasterer, all looked, and felt, a lot cleaner after our efforts. She and partner are still staying with us 'cos the plaster is still drying out and house is quite damp (basically I am enjoying having them back in the nest so my advise has been not to return!). I had a 'mad moment' on E-Bay, was checking the 'going, going, gone' section and saw a combination pram, pushchair and car seat due to finish within the hour for only £35, and it was only 10 miles away, so no postage. Put a bid in, and went out. When I returned there was my congratulatory E-Mail, I had bought it for £35. This morning I went and picked it up, and it's great. Hadn't dare tell Hubby because he is convinced that I am obsessed with pushchairs, but he returned from golf whilst I was assembling it, so I was busted!
Hubby - Whats that for? Not more stuff cluttering-up the place.
Me - Us. It will be really useful when Baby Bean is born.
Hubby - We've got a pram.
Me - Yes, but it's nearly 30 years old and it doesn't turn into a pushchair.
Hubby - We've got a pushchair.
Me - Yes, but it doesn't turn into a pram. It's space saving.
Hubby - We've got a car seat.
Me - Yes, but I'm going to give that one to Pregnant daughter for their other car 'cos it's compatible with her pushchair.
Hubby - Supposing I want a car-seat in my car?
Me - ???????
Hubby - So what are you going to do with our pram?
Me - Chuck it
Hubby - You can't do that, our babies used it.
Work could become very interesting. My job-share is currently applying for new jobs, she wants to get out of midwifery as she finds it too stressful. She phoned me during the week to tell me that she has put me down as a referree, but she doesn't want anyone at work to know she is leaving! That's put me in an awkward situation, I keep quiet, she leaves, I have to find a new partner within 3 months or I lose my job. What I really need to do is start asking around now 'cos we have an odd job-share as it's not sharing a full-time post, it's a full-time + one and half days per week. That means that I couldn't just pick up the extra until we can fill the post, and it's getting too close to Baby Bean arriving when I really only want to be working my part-time hours. Things are so complicated. Just to add to my confusion, I had an E-Mail from a Midwives Journal asking me if I would be interested in writing articles for them, and asking when they could phone me. I replied, in the affirmative, and havn't heard anything since. That's my life - up one minute, down the next.