I have gone a little quiet just recently. I have – for exciting reasons I shall share with you just as soon as I can draw breath – been insanely busy. Also, Harry and I (and as of today, my mother too) have a mysterious, long-standing and highly unwelcome cyclic gastro bug, producing fluctuating levels of diarrhoea, and in my case, also inducing repulsively sulfurous vomiting every 4 or 5 days. I’ve had this particular digestive nasty before, in my early 20s, and I distinctly remember being off work for 3 successive isolated Mondays – rendering my employer enormously suspicious, naturally; I also retain a vivid impression of the hideously eggy burps and chunders. I know not what this thing is: Harry’s stool sample came back negative for anything interesting. I merely wish it would go. Go soon. Not let the door hit, etc.
I have been both blue-arsed-busy and feeling completely exhausted and washed out. So I could have done without spending an entire morning running around after my sleep-deprived (4 successive nights of screamy meltdown) and un-cooperative son, trying desperately to take a photo in which he is A) vaguely facing the camera B) in focus and C) smiling. I am sending in a birthday card to CBeebies - the UK’s digital pre-schooler’s channel – and to be in with even a tiny chance of a birthday mention, it needs posting today. I took upwards of 200 indifferent shots this morning.
Naturally, the best ones were all out of focus:
and I took a huge number that were idiosyncratically composed
or seemed to feature an invisible fist
or too many teeth for comfort.
He had his own ideas on outside activities: there was much utilisation of my car as a play area,
directing of (invisible) traffic,
and… balancing a pen on Daddy’s bike…?
(Seriously: the child’s achievements with cutlery? Slow. Balancing a tiny pen on an even tinier cable? No fucking problem!)
Then there were the expressions that were edging towards something a little cheerier…sort of…
and the basilik expressions that accurately conveyed the moment
and my absolute favourite: the potty FAIL pic.
Eventually, he condescended to twitch the corners of his mouth up
and I called the job done.
If the BBC don’t show it, I am cancelling my bloody licence.