A Bed of grass

I was going to blog last night, but like some ‘vexed’ heroine from a Jane Austen novel I passed out way before my bedtime, but not on an antique chaise longue. I awoke at 1am still fully clothed and the curtains wide open letting the full moon-shine straight into the bedroom. Like a baby all put of routine, i got up, got changed managed to sleep for another hour or so and then by 3am i couldnt silence my churning thoughts any longer and retreated to a cup of tea and a good book.  I then returned to bed at 4am. As a result i feel jet-lagged, or slightly hungover but with the exotic holiday or the enjoyment of a drunken stupor, removed from the equation. I cant even turn to chocolate for a quick fix as I am on the ‘I quit sugar’ diet.

So there isnt much ‘in me’ to blog about today except my other ‘go to’ – horses.

Like many working Mums who are ‘horsey’, riding is a luxury, there is never enough time or the ‘right time’ to disappear on your own for a few hours to faff with a horse (because horses require a lot of faffing), a bit like motorbikes. So i just like to be around them (also a bit like motorbikes). I help to look after some horses near me in exchange for enjoying the odd ride. When i turned up today i notice one of the horses had a nasty case of sweet itch and a sore where his fly mask had been rubbing. So jumped at the chance to play horsey nurse (i am still about 8 really). So i get him in next to a haynet, rummage in the cupboard for lotions and potions, flick on the kettle for hot water and set to with his mane, pulling and trimming and fussing. He isnt too sure but lets me do it anyway with the odd irritated head flick every now and then, sometimes he turns his neck round me to have a cuddle. Thats what i love about horses, they all have their own unique personalities, like dogs. The key is to know how to treat them according to their sensitivities.

Like a horse i used to ride who could sense the vet had arrived even before he saw him. One time the vet turned up to give him an injection in his hock. I was in his stable and the horse was relaxed munching on hay. Then he heard a car arrive and the vet got out. The hay he was munching froze mid chomp and his ears stood up like they were on sentry duty. He was a big horse and the vet wasnt relishing the deed of inserting sedative into his neck but he managed it. As the horse got sleepy some of jis body weight started o rest on my arm but i couldnt move while the vet was injecting for fear of waking him up. There have been cases when vets have accidentally syringed themselves when a horse has moved and i didnt want that to happen.

Sadly the injection didnt work and the horse is enjoying retirement rather than motoring round the countryside, he is lucky he lives in a home where they are happy to see a horse enjoy just being a horse, hanging out in the field, without any purpose for humans accept to keep the grass down – which he does very well. I wish life was that simple – not seeking new grass, just keeping the existing grass in check.

This blog is for Unicef. Thanks for reading.

Sleepers

Sleep is very important and I am not getting enough of it, as much as I try o go to bed at 10, this ends up being gone 11. Not the best amount of sleep when you know baby boy is bound to wake up at least once in the night and you may have to retain the tolerance and forgiveness of a nun when it comes to baby boy’s toilet training habits and a daughter who talks back at you like a grumpy teenager. Come to think of it, I am sure there are times when I have come across as a grumpy teenager too.

After the third set of wet trousers, which included a soaking wet drivers seat in my car (he wet his pants pretending to drive it…..I hasten to add that the car was parked at the time) and wetting himself on the rather plush seat in a restaurant (we had been invited by a family friend to go to the country club on a guest pass…I had to lie to my back teeth when the waitress assumed it was spilt juice), I had a sense of humour failure. By the time I hot home I just wanted baby boy to go to bed and for my daughter to learn some humility (after she was demanding pudding when I wasn’t footing the bill – she added to my discomfort by protesting publicly). After explaining how I felt she could o much better and that I was disappointed with some of her decisions on behaviour choices, she explained she wasn’t getting enough sleep. I was talking to her about ways to help induce sleep while also stating lack of sleep does not excuse bad behaviour.

But I run on empty most of the time, so what kind of role model am I?

On that note it is time to turn in.

I am blogging every day for UNICEF. Check out the campaign here.

Thanks for reading.