Swine flu hits

So I was preparing this "Babymomma reveals all" post about my new job - which starts Monday - and what I've been up to workwise for the past few months, but Jasmine has come down with, erm, "flu like symptoms" so yes, basically, we reckon it's swine flu.

The National Pandemic Flu service reckons it's swine flu too, and issued our Tamiflu authorisation code at 3a.m. What sucks about the service is that all links to the Anti Viral Collection Points in Barnet are broken. In fact, type "Barnet tamiflu collection point" into Google UK and it still takes about 25 minutes of digging to find out where our nearest collection point is. There is no list. In the end I had to dig it out of some MP's blog but reckon your average punter would struggle a bit.

Our GP reckons it probably is swine flu, but might not be, and reckons we could take Tamiflu, but that at the same time it might be better not to, but really it's our decision. Most people would find this disconcertingly unhelpful. I appreciated his honesty. (It helps having a doctor for a boyfriend to explain why you can't just give a straight yes or no.)

Other than that it's all been distinctly unmelodramatic. Our main concern, of course, is Jasmine's weak chest, and whether she will suffer more than your average 3 year old. But even though she's really quite ill, her breathing rate is normal, and both Daddy and the GP said her chest was clear, so we're not expecting to have to rush her to hospital any time soon. So far, this illness seems "normal" by Jasmine standards. Fingers crossed it stays that way.

The most unpleasant aspect is the horrendous diarrhoea. 6 gag-inducing pottyfulls of it today. As a result I have become obsessively anxious about hygiene and have dry, cracked hands from overwashing to prove it. Despite getting to the potty every time, I convinced Jasmine to go back to nappies temporarily, which is just as well as we've had two accidents since. The knock on effect is I am now panicking mildly about getting enough fluid into Jasmine, but she refuses to take even a sip of drink and is now in a coma-like sleep on the sofa.

Hmmm, as I write this I realise it doesn't sound too good... I'll see whether she drinks anything when she wakes up, and if she refuses I may have to force feed it to her. Joy.

Today was supposed to be my last day at work. So I feel like I'm handing over a big, involved project that is slap bang in the middle of build in a mess of snatched emails and telephone messages. Katia, who I work with, wisely said "you have to be at peace with yourself when you go." Right now, she couldn't be further from the truth...

The fog is lifting

It's been a totally crappy few weeks. Bf and I seem to be permanently snapping at each other. I'm crying, lots. Whatever virus hospitalised Jambeans has passed onto the rest of us and we all have nasty, phlegmy, hacking coughs and runny noses and it's taking its toll physicially. I'm trying to juggle some freelance work. It's the kind of stuff I was doing about 7 years ago. It's dispiriting but it pays the bills (or some of them at least) and when I'm there it's balanced out by the great set of people I'm working with. But it's simply NOT what I want to be doing, and its getting me down the rest of the time. Felix and Jambeans have taken turns to vomit and cause havoc and wake up at stupid hours. My Dad, who's been in hospital for a month, was transferred to a nursing home and we got less than 24 hours notice. He didn't have so much as a pair of pants to keep him going and we haven't got a clue where the money's going to come from to ensure he has long-term care. It all adds to the stress. And of course, we're so so so so so soooo tired.

So we took time out yesterday, got a babysitter in and went to see Star Trek at the flicks. And it totally rocked. And this morning, I felt as if the fog was finally lifting.

Confessions of a bad mum

I've been in a dark place this weekend. Felix has been doing my head in. He's cutting molars - the painful ones - three of them simultaneously. It makes him very grumpy. And either it's coincidental, or somehow related, he's incredibly impatient with everything right now. So if he's playing with a toy and can't achieve what he wants to with it, he starts screaming. Currently he screams about once every 2 minutes. For a minute. That's a lot of screaming.

Normally you get to leave him to get on with stuff quite independently, and a scream means he's in trouble so you go and check on him. Now he screams all the time you have to check on him ALL THE TIME. And he's clingy. And wriggly. And has developed a habit of lurching his head back and trying to writhe out of your arms if you pick him up, even if he asked to be picked up. And he mostly does it on the stairs because he instinctively knows that's the worst place to drop a baby.

And that hasn't stopped all the relentless danger hunting either. He likes to think he can get down stairs facing forward, like a grown up. And this is before he can walk, or really balance properly on two feet. You have to be on hand to catch him, just in case he falls forward. And his latest new thing is reaching up to the kitchen worksurface with his fingertips to see what he can bring crashing down. Like plates. And knives, if he got the chance.

So, in summary - he's loud, demanding, attention seeking, quasi-suicidal and difficult to control from very early in the day to very late.

I've totally lost my patience this weekend. I've snapped at him and uttered the F word a fair few times. When he headbutted me on the chin on the stairs, making my head smash into the wall I shouted at him and cried. And I've ignored Jambeans. And snapped at the boyfried. And I've not given a fuck.

So last night, after two days of full on Felix we were beat. And then Jambeans woke screaming at 9.30 because she had a bad dream, and went mental. Total hysteria. Mainly in my ear. For two and a half hours. I understand why the Victorians locked hysterical ladies up now and threw awat the key. Anything to make them shut up. At more than one point I wondered if a good smack would be allowable in exceptional circumstances.

Boyfried wisely elected to sleep on the futon in Felix' room - not that he got any sleep either - and Jambeans whimpered her way through the whole night waking every hour or so to shriek and moan and scrumble.

Then Felix woke at 5.15am. Fuck me that's early when you've had no sleep. Bf and I had a barney over who should get up and look after him - both of us insisting the other should go to bed. I won. I fed Felix a chocolate biscuit for breakfast, whilst I had the last 4 with a very hot cup of tea. Then I zombied on the sofa and watched 2 episodes of Countdown before 7am.

I think I'm *supposed* to feel guilty. But I don't really feel guilty at all. I do feel guilty for being nasty to the bf, but I don't think I'm a bad mum at all. I may be more Slummy than Yummy but I still think I'm a pretty good mummy. And bf absolutely puts me to shame with his parenting prowess. But being in the dark place makes you reflective. And I've been reflecting that if this is the sum total of my life I don't particularly want it.

It's a common complaint of motherhood that you feel like a ghost of your past self. I've been feeling that very keenly this weekend. I'm a shadow of the person I used to be. The only time I feel even remotely close to that person I used to be is when I'm working. I had managed to find some freelance work - only 5 days of me being brilliant for crap pay - but work nevertheless. And that came to a close on Friday and I just crashed. It doesn't help.

Girl about town

Today I had 3 interviews - totally exhausting. I have an adrenalin headache.

I think I presented myself to the best of my abilities in all so hopefully I've avoided that awful sweaty feeling where you're doing something completely normal then flashback to something totally gauche/ stupid/ inappropriate you said.

I got a verbal offer from one interview - it was a follow up, to do some freelance work and then see how it went. But I didn't realise how much travel would be required. So much that it's simply not an option. I'm hoping to bag some freelance work off interview number 2 too - tough interview but at a great place. But interview number 3 was for a company I'd love to work for, and I had a good vibe off the person who interviewed me - also the person I'd report to, but the position available is sketchy right now. So sketchy it doesn't even exist, so that one is a definite slow burn, and in the time it takes to burn slowly everything could change.

But, who knows, I'm keeping my fingers crossed.