A hairy intermission

Hola.

I have a big deadline coming up this weekend, and working nights is kiiiiiilling me, and my eyes are getting that please for the love of pete don’t look at another screen kind of rawness around the edges. And can we, while we’re here, talk about freelancing with small children? We’ve got a pretty good routine that doesn’t involve them gawping at Netflix all day, but it’s precariously dependent on them taking simultaneous naps, and all of it goes out of the window anyway when it rains. I would like to do a few things well instead of many things adequately. Sometimes I feel like Bilbo Baggins after all his years of Ring-hoarding, like butter scraped over too much bread.

Anyway. Just popping in to say I’m alive, hope you are too, and my baby got a haircut today and broke my heart with it. I mean, he was actually blinking through his fringe like a pit pony, so it was well overdue. I was really worried he wouldn’t sit still at all, but we brought all of the lift-the-flap books he’s normally not allowed to look at by himself, and he was like WHAT IS THIS BEAUTIFUL MADNESS. Then he leapt straight into little-boyhood in the space of fifteen minutes, and I am ill-equipped for that sort of nonsense. Especially in a rugby jersey.

(I don’t especially like rugby, but I could dress my boys in rugby jerseys every day of their little lives, and love it for always. STRIPES.)

SAM_6913 SAM_6969

PS, Henry, this afternoon:

H: I need my clicking block.

Me: Your what?

H: My yellow clicking block. Can you help me find it?

Me: I don’t know what a ‘clicking block’ is.

H: It’s a…clicking block. It’s a clicking block that makes my train taller.

Me: Ohhhh. Duplo. Right.

Take care of yourselves, lovely ones. You’ve earned it.

11 thoughts on “A hairy intermission

  1. I’ve never commented here, but it’s time you knew. I’ve been reading your blog forever and it might be my absolute favorite. When I see that there’s a new post, I hide it away like that bag of peanut M&Ms on my secret shelf, and then when my lap and my attention are finally free of children I sit back and devour them both. (Your post and my bag of M&Ms, that is.)

    Also, freelancing with small children can be agony.

    Like

    • Oh goodness. You have just made my week. Thank you SO much! And thank you for revealing yourself and your M&Ms (I am a chocolate hoarder too)…because it meant I could find your blog and read it. You write BEAUTIFULLY, honestly x

      Like

  2. I’m just starting to get into freelancing and haven’t yet figured out a good way to do it!
    I always have a moment of shock after the boys get a haircut, they look so big! I’m not quite ready to lose my babies…until a deadline looms and they decide that they need me for absolutely every little thing!

    Like

    • Oh yes, I can totally empathise. Henry goes to nursery this September, and part of me is so sad to lose him for five mornings a week. And then I remember that I’ll be able to work uninterrupted every morning, and I think…it’s not all bad 🙂

      Like

      • I’ll be losing one of the two in a few weeks when he starts school. Part of me is looking forward to less chaos around the house and part of me is crying at my first baby growing up!

        Like

  3. Karen bench says:

    How could you cut his curls …..he reminded me of a dandelion clock his hair was amazing! Love your blog even though mine are all grown up …..brings back beautiful memories xx

    Like

    • Haha, it was VERY like a dandelion! He would wake up in the morning with it standing up everywhere. Just couldn’t put it off any longer, though – he was squinting 🙂 And thank you! Glad you like being here, and thanks for commenting xx

      Like

  4. I can finally comment from my phone! Awww you cut his hair!! I won’t cut my girl’s as long as I can help it. Baby hair is my second weakness. Baby smell is first.
    Rains n work don’t get along. Yes.

    Like

    • HELLO! Oh, my dear, I do miss your comments. So glad everything’s still going well for you. Good luck with the weaning – it can be very emotional. But you’ll know if it’s right for you both.

      And I know, I’ve been putting off his haircut for ever. But he actually couldn’t see, so it was inevitable!

      Like

Talk to me! I'll put the kettle on.