Introducing BabyFeet v2.1
Introducing BabyFeet v2.1
Little’un has recently developed a thirst for knowledge which, whilst obviously a Good Thing, can be hard work at times. She’s particularly interested in bones and muscles and so forth at the moment so where better to take her than the NHM? More bones than you can shake a well proportioned tibia at.
Well we had the most fabulous day. We hardly saw an eighth of what’s on show, which is fine as it’s free to get in so we can go back as many times as we like without feeling as though we have to get our money’s worth. We concentrated on the dinosaur display this time as they captured Little’un’s imagination as soon as she saw the huge diplodocus in the entrance hall. There were plenty of bones and interactive displays, with the highlight being a working model of a Tyrannosaurus rex which I thought might scare Little’un (who can be a sensitive soul at times) but she was utterly entranced. It was extremely busy, what with it being a Saturday and a nice day, and we did feel rather herded round at times by the volume of people, but the displays were interesting and informative, if a little dusty on some of the skeleton displays.
We also visited the mammalian section where the life sized blue whale produced more “ooooh”s and “wow”s from our four year old natural history enthusiast. There were curators on hand to talk to the children with skulls, bones, tortoise shells and so forth that children both large (ie me) and small could touch and explore. We could have spent hours in there, it was utterly brilliant. I felt like a schoolgirl myself, I got so caught up in Little’un’s excitement.
From a practical point of view the trip was really easy. A handy hint for anyone coming into London from the north is to park at East Finchley tube station on the Northern Line – it’s easy to find from the A1 and a measly £1 to park all day on a Saturday and Sunday; it’s in zone 4 so you can get an adult travelcard for just over £6 which will allow you to travel by tube all over central London. The museum is near South Kensington station on the Piccadilly/Circle/District lines and is well signposted from the station. There are places to buy food at the NHM but they are busy and expensive – we paid rather a lot for sandwiches, drinks and cake and vowed to take lunch with us next time. There are plenty of places to sit and there seems to be no objection to taking your own food.
We jumped back on the tube to Hyde Park Corner after we’d got a bit fed up of wandering round displays and went for a lovely walk past some of London’s landmarks. It took us about an hour to wander past Buckingham Palace (with a stop to see the guards), up The Mall to Horseguards Parade then along Parliament Street to Westminster and Big Ben, across Westminster Bridge to Waterloo Station and the northern line back to East Finchley. The daffs and crocuses were out on the lawns in the parks and Little’un thoroughly enjoyed running through them.
Unfortunately the batteries on my camera ran out after the dinosaurs and my backups were duff so I only got pictures of dusty old bones for posterity, but rest assured, we shall most certainly be going back; I will make a point of getting lots of shots of my interested and excited daughter to share with you all.
… no sooner was I back then I was gone again. The last two months have been very busy, very strange and very stressful and I just haven’t managed to get myself together enough to write. Facebook may well be playing a part in my lack of blogging, I seem to be addicted
A brief timeline:
Pre-Christmas: The Yorkshirman develops man flu a cough. I develop very little sympathy.
Christmas: The Yorkshirman’s cough worsens. I defrost a bit. He is diabetic and infections can bugger him up so a little more wifely understanding is required. He is flat out all over Christmas and I run round doing everything despite only recently having recovered from a slight cough nasty chest infection myself. Everyone is run down and miserable.
Tuesday 30/12: I get a phone call from work (I was on holiday over Christmas). My job is at risk of redundancy. I fly into a panic.
Wednesday 7/1: I get another lifechanging surprise – a positive pregnancy test! Oh. My. God. We are delighted but I start to worry that redundancy and pregnancy don’t really mix too well.
Mid Jan: I start throwing up. A lot. I can’t even keep water down. I’m diagnosed with Hyperemesis Gravidarum, prescribed some anti-emetics and signed off work.
Jan/Feb: I continue to throw up regularly but manage to keep enough food and fluids down to function, albeit on a fairly basic level. Very lazy parenting ensues – “Shall we put a DVD on darling?”. The Yorkshireman continues to cough but is back on his feet.
Wednesday 4/2: Little’un is referred for squint surgery by her opthalmologist. The vision in her right eye has improved beyond all recognition but if anything her squint is worse so the time has come to have it corrected.
Tuesday 10/2: My 35th birthday. How on earth did I manage to get that old? I have my booking in appointment with my midwife, who pretends to remember me from my pregnancy with Little’un although it was over five years ago since I was last at this point and it’s obvious to me that she has seen too many people in the intervening time. It’s all fairly straightforward – even though I moaned a lot and had lots of niggles whilst pregnant last time it was essentially an uncomplicated pregnancy and easy birth. I manage to keep some chocolate fudge cake down and feel a bit happier.
Mid Feb: The Yorkshireman develops strained rib muscles having coughed solidly for two months.
Monday 16/2: The Yorkshireman is told that there are going to be redundancies at his workplace. He is put under 30 days’ notice.
Tuesday 17/2: The Yorkshireman coughs whilst bending over a desk and does himself some incredibly painful mischief. He is admitted to hospital and there is talk of blood clots in lungs and legs. Thankfully my Mum is here to help me during half term so I can go to hospital with him without having to worry about Little’un.
Wed 18 – Thu 19/2: The Yorkshireman spends 36 hours on a medical assesment ward and 24 hours on a general ward waiting for scans and blood test results. Eventually blood clots are ruled out, he is diagnosed with herniated rib muscles and is sent home with a large pile of Very Good Drugs to help with the pain.
Friday 20/2: I finally get some good news – my job is safe. I am yet to find out whether I can continue to work part time or if the new structure means I’ll have to go back to full time hours, but at least I have a job and I’m incredibly relieved.
So that brings us up to date. The Yorkshireman is much improved but still coughing. We are waiting for confirmation that his job is safe. Little’un is a bit nervous about her impending op but is otherwise a happy and bouncy little girl. I am now 10 weeks pregnant and I’m hanging on in there.
I may expand on some of the above, and who knows, I might even manage it within the next few months.
My computer was broken, and now it is not!
We have been busy – photos and stories to follow :)
Assuming, of course, that anyone’s still reading…
We went for a tramp through the fields today, sadly the most wholesome outdoorsy thing we have done recently after what seems like weeks of rain. I used to go walking far more often than I do now, in landscape somewhat hillier than that of South Lincolnshire, and I had forgotten how much I love a walk in the country. Happily Little’un loves a bit of nature too, especially the mucky variety. The Yorkshireman is collecting weeds for an agricultural qualification he’s studying for so we had an excuse to get extra soil under our fingernails whilst we scrabbled about for samples for him.
Little’un has a real affinity for water. She loves her baths, going swimming, splashing in puddles and playing in the rain. It would appear that if the water is full of mud then so much the better. It is essential to be correctly attired for such activites however. Pink is de rigeur. Just because one is a muck magnet that always has dirty fingernails and filthy-as-soon-as-looked-at clothing, does not mean that one cannot be pink and girly. Even in a muddy puddle.
Little’un didn’t look back as I dropped her off this morning. I was practically dismissed as she found her friends and ran off giggling and holding hands. You would have been proud of me, readers, my lip trembled and tears threatened but I did not cry.
The nights are really drawing in now. We have had our first misty morning and there is dew on the grass when we leave the house. It feels distinctly chilly for the first couple of hours of the day.
Tonight, Litte’un had a good scrub in the bath and washed her hair. We trimmed her nails and scraped out all the mud from underneath them. She then carefully laid out her clothes for tomorrow morning having chosen a matching hair bobble. We made sure her shoes were clean and her coat wasn’t stuffed in the back of the cupboard getting crumpled.
Because tomorrow she goes to school.