The walls are melting with the heat

Sometimes I feel like we are never happy.  In March, I was complaining about the long, cold winter.  Now that the roads are melting, I'm kind of wishing for just a few flakes of snow or something to cool it down just a little bit.

Now, my dear Texan friends, I will only accept comments of the ilk "but it's x degrees here, weenie" if you are currently living without air conditioning.  If it is currently warmer than 85 degrees Fahrenheit inside your house, dude, I feel you.  If, however, you are currently enjoying refrigerated air while shaking your head at how soft I have become, I fear that my mild sleep deprivation may lead me to say something I would later regret.

I will confess, the heatwave has been bad for my running.  I have let myself be discouraged by the baking sun from running outside for three whole weeks.  I have, in the last week, reinstated my work gym membership and been on the treadmill, but there's not a lot to blog about running in a room filled with sweaty colleagues and daytime TV.

It's a little cooler today, so I decided it was time to start running outside again.  When I say decided, that makes it sound like the process was a little easier than it actually was - I dragged myself kicking and screaming out the door, only successfully motivating myself with my new mantra (with thanks to Jen Gebhardt and the Oatmeal) "Don't let the Blerch catch you!"

Today's goal was two miles.  I ran along the narrow, churned up path again today, which is now covered in lush weeds and thus even harder to run down as you can no longer see which bits are flat.  I think my strategy is going to have to be that I use the half mile until the end of the path as a slow jog/walk warm up / cool down and then do the proper run after the path.  Mentally, I want to resist this idea - "the countryside starts at the end of my backyard," wails my psyche.  But seriously, I used to travel nearly a mile to get to the park to run in Dulwich, and I value the integrity of my ankles.

I finished my run in 27:45, which equates to 13:53min/mile.  That's a lot slower than the 12:00min/mile I was running on the treadmill, but way more enjoyable.  I ran 4.5 miles this week (yay!).  1/2 marathon, I'm coming very slowly at you!

Working girl

I've done it.  I went to work.  I left my babies for three whole days.  I wore a suit.  I sat at a desk.  I had lunch like a grown up and I didn't share it with anyone.

I survived.  The kids survived.  We made it.  It was ok.

So what did I learn in my first week back to work in 18 months?

I learned that rush hour commuting basically always sucks.  I learned that it's more of a pain to stand on a train journey that takes 40 minutes than one that takes 10.

I learned that the kids love you best for ten minutes after you get home.  After that, their affection is anyone's.

I learned that I should never wear this dress again as a former colleague who I ran into at the train station congratulated me on my pregnancy.  Embarrassing for all involved.

But most of all, I learned that it's great to have your Friday when everyone else is having their Wednesday.  Colour me totally smug.

So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodnight (until Thursday)

Friday marked the end of my last week as a stay-at-home mother.  It has been a whirlwind.  Two weeks ago, I went in for a meeting with my boss.  Two weeks later, I am laying out my suit, tights, and heels for my first day working for almost exactly 18 months.

It's hard to write about it, because I don't know quite how I feel.  I'm happy - I think it will be good to reconnect with my "grownup" self.  I'm sad - even if it's only three days a week, I will be leaving my babies.  I'm nervous - some days I have such bad mummy brain, I can hardly remember my own name, what if I inadvertently cause the entire banking system to collapse?  Okay, that's seriously unlikely but you never know.

It's probably exaggerating to say that my return to work may save my sanity.  Probably.  Financially, it's not necessary.  My salary will cover nanny and travel costs with more than enough left over for a weekly cleaner (hallelujah...)  I will get to drink hot cups of tea.  I will get to go to the gym.  I will spend three days a week wearing clothes without food or snot on them (I hope...) and talking to adults.  And then I will spend four days with my beautiful babes.

Enjoying the bouncy castle before BBQ guests arrive

The glorious weather this weekend has been great both for our Independence Day BBQ and as my SAHM send-off.  I'm even more pleased that the weather is still supposed to be hot and sunny at the end of the week, so I can continue to enjoy fabulous summertime with the kiddiwinks.

My all-time, iconic summer song

Happy Birthday NHS!

Today is the 65th birthday of the National Health Service.  As someone who was sceptical when I first moved to the country, I would now like to take this opportunity to thank the NHS.

I am thankful that any time we have needed acute care, the NHS has been incredible.  When I had to have abdominal surgery when 20 weeks pregnant with Miss A, I could not have asked for better care.

I am thankful that I got unparallelled medical care at one of the UK's leading antenatal research hospitals for free.  I am grateful, if slightly sceptical, at all of the amazingly detailed extra scans I got for free*, even if one of them meant I spent a couple of months worried that Itsyboo had a heart defect.  If he had, though, we would have been able to fix it in utero using the latest surgical techniques.  For free.

I am grateful that, as nervous new parents, when we were terrified that a five-month old Miss A was concussed (this is actually a funny story, once you get past the initial crazy fear), we took her to A&E and never had to consider whether we could afford it.  Who knew that you could be undyingly grateful for a diagnosis of gastroenteritis?

I am grateful for vaccinations, advice, and care that mean my kids are, so far, happy healthy and growing fast.

When people ask if I ever want to move "back home," I say no, citing holiday (ten days per year?!? I think not) and health care.

*I am aware that I pay for the NHS through taxes.  I'm okay with that.  I am aware that my tax £££s support those on lower incomes.  I'm okay with that too.  I'd rather everyone had access to vaccines and other preventative health care, rather than being a crisis for the medical system once their conditions got so bad they needed acute remedial care.