On emulating a whirling dervish

This post brought to you by the genius mothers on my online birth club who brought their sand/water tables inside and filled them with lentils and split peas. I am typing for as long as E. is happily occupied pouring said lentils and split peas from one side to the next and NOT on to the floor…

Far out, I am feeling out of control these days.

It started with six weeks of non-stop visitors. I am not kidding. I think I counted three nights in the whole six weeks where it was just Q. and I at home with E. (one week Q. was away for a family funeral, but I feel that also counted given it was far from our normal routine).

It was so lovely to see everyone. With one exception these were friends and family members whom we love and who no longer live nearby and we don’t get to see often enough. It was wonderful to catch up. And the one exception, my Mum, came into town specifically because she had promised to babysit E. while Q. and I went out to celebrate the tenth anniversary of our first date. (We went and saw Skyfall! We went for a huge long walk through our city on a beautiful November day! We ate at a great Thai restaurant! We stayed in a hotel!) And she went above and beyond the call of duty, coming down as promised even though one of her cats was very unwell and my stepfather had to stay behind to look after him, which meant she had to do the entire twelve hour round trip drive on her own.

So it was wonderful to see everyone, to catch up, to watch them interact with E. (E. loved having his aunties visiting. Loved them with the fire of a thousand suns.) But at the same time, it made things harder. Not from a day-to-day routine sort of thing, because Q. and I are a well-oiled machine and dinners were made, linens were washed, keys were provided without any issues. But from a work perspective it was a challenge because I couldn’t work in the evenings if our guests were around, and I probably didn’t work as much as I should have during the day if they were around too. Because, after all, I don’t get to see them all that often.

The end result (and I am worried that E. is getting bored of his table) is I am freaking out about the dissertation chapter I have told my supervisor will be done before Christmas (and really needs to be done by then if I am to keep to schedule).

I am freaking out about having to mark my tutorials’ mid-term exam starting Monday when I only JUST finished marking their essays.

I am freaking out about the major seminar paper I am presenting in early February.

I am freaking out about the organization still required for Cambridge, and get more so every time I get another answer to my ad on Gumtree that looks suspiciously like a scam. How does one find accommodation without being scammed when one is overseas?

I am mildly freaking out about Christmas and how I will get everything organized. I’m already realizing I won’t get cards done this year and probably won’t do the baking I had intended.

I am displacing all of my anxiety about the dissertation chapter onto Cambridge, which means I’m keeping myself up at night worrying that Q. and E. will die in a plane crash when they come to meet me (I’m going over about ten days ahead of them, which is also a tremendous source of anxiety right now).

Hence the blog silence. There is SO much I want to write about. All the new things E. is doing. How much fun we’re having at the early years drop-in programs. Thoughts about 2.0. Thoughts about body image. Thoughts about the poor Duchess of Cambridge and how ridiculous is it that the haters are out for her claiming she is just being stuck up needing help for hyperemisis gravidarum because “everyone gets morning sickness”, and how scary it must be to have to make public such a watched pregnancy when you’re nowhere near the twelve week mark yet. Thoughts on how I hate knowing so much about what can go wrong in a pregnancy that I can tell from two apparently innocuous comments that one of my favourite characters on my favourite television show is doomed (I will say no more for fear of spoilers).

Lots I want to say, but my work-life balance right now is heavily tilted to the work side when I’m not looking after E., which leaves little room for a creative outlet. I’m reading the blogs on my reader but am not so good with commenting right now.

I’m hoping a bit of sanity returns once I send this chapter off on the 21st (or no later than the 23rd so help me.)



Filed under Butter scraped over too much bread (a.k.a. modern motherhood), E.- the second year, My addled brain, PhD, Second Thoughts

2 responses to “On emulating a whirling dervish

  1. Hey that is a good call with the lentils and split peas! I may steal that one too.

    Thanks for your comment on my blog…I know. It is really unbelievable. I can’t believe all the crap.

    My instinct was to roll my eyes at first but then feel bad for the duchess too. Because Lord knows we know what it’s like to have your long dreamed for pregnancy announcement be somehow muddled by complication. It stinks.

  2. Pingback: A royal birth | Res Cogitatae

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