Another late night for me. My project at work is pretty demanding, with very tight deadlines and quite a bit to do in each sprint. I’m trying to keep on top of it, but it does mean I’ve done a bit more “out of hours work” than I’d like.
I still feel pretty positive — about work, life, kids, fun, motorcycles, health — so something is working for me. A low carb diet!
More house-hunting today — I think we saw five places today (might’ve been more, as for a couple of them I stayed in the car with a sleeping Jules and let Dee scope it out on her own). Of those, we’ve applied for just one, a tiny place (really), but probably not any smaller than our current house, and nicer: 3BRs all on a single level, on-street parking and close enough to the city that we can still ride in.
Finding a new house is proving difficult.
We applied for a place on View Street, just a couple of blocks from our current place. Nice little three-bedroom, with a big enough yard, nice kitchen, good little deck outside — in short, perfect for our little clan. But by now you know where this is heading: we didn’t get it.
Gutted, as well as baffled: we offered more than the asking price, were available to move in immediately (like: take our money, give us the keys) and even suggested we would do a long-lease (up to 24 months, by which time I’m really hoping we can start looking to buy our own).
It’s 2016, and I’m dusting off the ‘blog again.
Sure, I might not be able to keep up with writing here, but I’ve got to try — it’s something I actually kind of enjoy, after all, and being able to go back and revisit my thoughts from a year ago (or ten!) is illuminating in the least.
This is a year for enjoyment, I think: I’ve been giving too much focus, if not time (what parent has time, after all), to my work, and feeling guilty at both ends when I don’t give enough to EITHER my projects or my family — let alone carving out that tiny bit of personal space required to recharge, reflect, write, meditate, be alone, be myself. And while I have given up the late nights and energy drinks, mostly, I’m still finding it hard to say “it can wait until Monday” … and to be happy with that decision.
Ah, beautiful, delicate irony. I becomes apparent that I spoke too soon when I confessed to feeling satisfied for the first time in years — within hours of my last post, our landlords called to tell us they’re selling our home.
Early in the evenin’,
Right ‘round supper time,
Mummy’s in her PJs
suppin’ on some wine. Who are we kiddin’? It’s early afternoon
And mummy always asks us if we reckon it’s too soon. Down at the beach house, that’s where we are,
Julesy and his daddy are playin’, playin’ with a bunch of cars.
Baa-ba-buh Baa-ba-buh ba-buh-ba-buh
We’ve arrived home again after a week at Callala Beach, Jervis Bay.
hashtag jesus Danielle Fox
(from Facebook via IFTTT.)
Last night we drank a magnum of Mumm (champagne) that Dee won in a weight-loss competition at work, and as a result we got a little bit silly on Facebook. This in turn triggered an automatic post via IFTTT, and I feel like I should explain a little. It’s our third day at the beach house in Callala Bay, and I think we’re finally settling in.
Last night we took the first step on what I suspect may be a long journey: readjusting Jules’ sleeping patterns.
We’ve fallen into just a couple of bad habits over the last six months, probably since he got sick and went off his food. Neither are particularly bad habits, but I suspect they’re still going to be tough ones to break, but worthwhile — for us, and for Jules. The primary one is that we’ve been letting him come and sleep in our bed when he wakes up overnight, usually 3am or so. The second, more subtle (but likely related) is that we’ve been staying in his room and reading to him until he falls asleep.
Last night Dee took point: I read to him for ten minutes, then left while he was still awake. For the next FOREVER he cried, got up, threw himself on the ground, wailed some more — and each time, Tough Mummy picked him up and put him back without a word, Super Nanny style. Each time, he wailed louder but for shorter periods, and each time he stayed closer to his own room; in the end, he would walk to the door, then put himself back to bed when Dee came towards him.
Same thing overnight (Dee again; it’s my turn tonight) — he got up, was put back, fought it for a while, stayed in his own bed. Quite a struggle, especially at 3am (and then again at 5am), but eventually he stayed in bed.
And then when I got up at 7am this morning, I saw this: