shakeups at home
The changes to our household with the arrival of The Bun have been quite explosive, so to speak. The day I arrived home from the hospital was also the day the confinement nanny arrived to begin her first day of work as was previously agreed, even if The Bun was still in hospital for phototherapy.
In a way it worked out well that the baby wasn't home yet from the hospital. It was one less thing to be concerned with while everyone was getting acquainted and re-oriented. The nanny had to figure out where everything was in the kitchen and how things worked. I was still exhausted from the delivery and from worry about The Bun, so I was given leave to go lie in bed and rest. I was awakened suddenly though, by a loud cracking sound, like a giant plate had just been broken. There were shrieks from the kitchen. I thought it was a minor accident and tried to ignore the commotion and go back to sleep.
But things didn't seem to calm down and when I finally went to investigate, it turns out that my glass stove top had exploded. Luckily it was tempered glass and shards did not go flying all about the kitchen. There was no more cooking that could be done though, and dinner was halfway prepared. In the end it was decided that we would take the food to my parents' place, a ten minute drive away, and finish cooking there. If The Bun were home things might have been a bit more complicated.
So we ended up buying a new stove. In the meantime J's dad brought us a canister of LPG and a little portable stove that went with it. There was more fuss around the flat as we figured out which new stove we wanted, ordered it, waited for it to be installed, etc. Too much fuss for my liking but nothing to do but take it in stride.
Then yesterday afternoon the washing machine broke down. It just stopped in the middle of the spin cycle and refused to revive. Perhaps it was the strain of doing three loads of laundry a day (did I mention that the nanny insists on doing her tiny load every morning because she basically arrived with only three t-shirts and some shorts and little else?) when it used to do one load every other day. Perhaps it was just old, six years seems pretty long for an appliance these days. Whatever it was, last night J and I went across the road to the electronics store to buy a new washing machine. So much for our first time out alone without The Bun.
And that's just the big, can't-ignore-them changes. There's also been the slow but steady accumulation of stuff: boxes of chicken essence and bird's nests from well-meaning relatives who don't realize I hate the stuff; The Bun's bouncer and car seat; an extra drying rack for all the extra laundry we now have; various new implements in the kitchen courtesy of my mother. I know that clutter and children go hand-in-hand, and that I should resist the urge to control everything and just let it be, but another part of me feels really insistent about reclaiming my home. I guess I will do it, bit by bit - it's one of the ways I will feel better, I think.
Five more days to the end of confinement!
Posted via LiveJournal.app.
In a way it worked out well that the baby wasn't home yet from the hospital. It was one less thing to be concerned with while everyone was getting acquainted and re-oriented. The nanny had to figure out where everything was in the kitchen and how things worked. I was still exhausted from the delivery and from worry about The Bun, so I was given leave to go lie in bed and rest. I was awakened suddenly though, by a loud cracking sound, like a giant plate had just been broken. There were shrieks from the kitchen. I thought it was a minor accident and tried to ignore the commotion and go back to sleep.
But things didn't seem to calm down and when I finally went to investigate, it turns out that my glass stove top had exploded. Luckily it was tempered glass and shards did not go flying all about the kitchen. There was no more cooking that could be done though, and dinner was halfway prepared. In the end it was decided that we would take the food to my parents' place, a ten minute drive away, and finish cooking there. If The Bun were home things might have been a bit more complicated.
So we ended up buying a new stove. In the meantime J's dad brought us a canister of LPG and a little portable stove that went with it. There was more fuss around the flat as we figured out which new stove we wanted, ordered it, waited for it to be installed, etc. Too much fuss for my liking but nothing to do but take it in stride.
Then yesterday afternoon the washing machine broke down. It just stopped in the middle of the spin cycle and refused to revive. Perhaps it was the strain of doing three loads of laundry a day (did I mention that the nanny insists on doing her tiny load every morning because she basically arrived with only three t-shirts and some shorts and little else?) when it used to do one load every other day. Perhaps it was just old, six years seems pretty long for an appliance these days. Whatever it was, last night J and I went across the road to the electronics store to buy a new washing machine. So much for our first time out alone without The Bun.
And that's just the big, can't-ignore-them changes. There's also been the slow but steady accumulation of stuff: boxes of chicken essence and bird's nests from well-meaning relatives who don't realize I hate the stuff; The Bun's bouncer and car seat; an extra drying rack for all the extra laundry we now have; various new implements in the kitchen courtesy of my mother. I know that clutter and children go hand-in-hand, and that I should resist the urge to control everything and just let it be, but another part of me feels really insistent about reclaiming my home. I guess I will do it, bit by bit - it's one of the ways I will feel better, I think.
Five more days to the end of confinement!
Posted via LiveJournal.app.