My professional life in the UK before having kids was fighting the misconceptions of what social media marketing does every day. It was like pushing shit uphill.
Since my furiously teething, clingy younger child won’t even countenance the idea of my going to the toilet without her in my arms, and summer holidays mean both offspring clamour for either constant attention or non-stop children’s television or strange toy opening videos on YouTube, getting any time to read or watch the news has been… challenging. So here is a brief digest of what I’ve been able to catch up on.
- Brexit: what the FUCK?
- Donald Trump: what the ACTUAL FUCK?!
- Rio Olympics: hooray for Joseph Schooling.
Personally, I blame Paw Patrol. Yelping for help has got me nowhere.
You know vanity sizing is out of control when Uniqlo Singapore judges you a size M or L, but Gap UK says you’re smaller than a size zero.
I am nursing Eliza back to sleep, it’s past bedtime, and Anne has come in. She had a nap in the afternoon so isn’t tired.
ANNE: Mummy, can I have one circle crispie (I had been having a snack before Eliza stirred and put a bag of crisps on the table)?
ME: (Whispering) No.
ANNE: Just one circle crispie, then I’ll say that’s enough?
ME: (Still whispering) No, it’s too late.
ANNE walks off quickly. I get ready to unlatch Eliza as I know I will soon hear—
ANNE: *crunch crunch crunch*
Parents were the invited into school today to help the kids make an ugly bug costume for an ugly bug ball tomorrow. Anne wanted to be a ladybird. Her ladybird also required a mask — a strip of paper with eye holes poked out.
So her costume is a ladybird dressed as a ninja turtle.
… in this instance, I was headed to the shop after dinner. It had been a really rainy day.
When snails go somewhere, then realise they’ve gone in the wrong direction and have to turn back, is that literally the worst thing that could happen to them?
(Apart from being stepped on.)
Is it impossible to be truly vegetarian / vegan? The paragraph about sentience in plants reminds me of that Roald Dahl short story (The Sound Machine).
Also, Sausage Party.
I have never neglected my weblog for this long. Ever. My only excuse — and family and friends know this — is that Eliza’s been struggling with eczema for a number of months, and her misery (therefore my lack of sleep) has contributed to my not posting a thing here. Although I’ve definitely missed it.
In short: Eliza has inherited a tendency to flare up with eczematous skin from Neil, as well as a predisposition to lots of allergies from me, including Oral Allergy Syndrome (OAS), an offshoot of allergic rhinitis, or hay fever1. She’s certainly won the genetic lottery2. We saw our GP a number of times, who prescribed steroid creams, but told us we had to stop applying the cream after one week at the most. Every time we did what he said, the eczema would flare up again, get worse, and spread.
A paediatric dermatologist we ended up seeing in Singapore suggested she might have food allergies (cutting out soy while in Singapore made a big difference, which meant no yummy Chinese food for the poor girl, just plain rice), and now that it’s springtime, hay fever is kicking in.
Tangent: I never realised I suffered from hay fever until my mother said I did. Now I feel it so much more. Thanks, power of suggestion.
We tried loads of moisturisers and emollients. The things that didn’t work were Doublebase, Aveeno, Oilatum, Aloe Vera, Epaderm, and Weleda. The prducts currently helping to manage her skin include a daily oat and coconut oil bath, Fucidin H cream (or a combination of Desowen lotion and fusidic acid ointment), sunflower seed oil, and Atopiclair. A friend has loaned us some Scratchsleeves, and we have seen some effectiveness with her wearing DermaSilk garments — although she’s figured out how to pull off the face mask, the little shit.
One unintended consequence of such frequent moisturisation of Eliza’s face and body is my normally-dry-because-I-wash-them-so-much hands are soft and smooth. Er, yay?
1 The first time she ate raw tomato, her lips swelled up so much I worried about anaphylaxis, and subsequent research led me to learn about OAS. She also reacts strongly to raw nectars / syrups. She seems okay with some raw fruit, thank goodness.
2 We worried that Anne had also inherited eczema, but on reflection, she had some dry skin. And no allergies. Lucky, lucky bam.
You know your love for your children is unconditional when you switch to drinking coconut milk (instead of cow’s) to take a possible trigger food out of your baby’s diet — and you despise coconut.
(Having looked into the other plant-based alternatives, the plan is to alternate between that and homemade almond milk.)
Edited to add: after an allergic reaction at a restaurant, I suspect Oral Allergy Syndrome. There go my usual lazy weaning options: fresh fruit and salads.
With increasing frequency, I wish for the days when my having a website was a quirky thing that would never last, and the Internet was a mere curiosity that only nerds were into. Back then, I could say exactly whatever the fuck I wanted and anyone likely to be offended wouldn’t have been likely to read it.
Not any longer. Now I am regularly assaulted with opinions that are not only self-righteous, but also completely hypocritical. But as I know these people in real life, I can’t respond the way I truly want to because they’d take it badly.