Switzerlady

English housewife and mother in Switzerland. Needs meaningful occupation to prevent life of crime.

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Another slow winter's day

It is dark and drizzly outside. But Gloria and Emma are both still asleep, after one hour! What an amazingly rare treat, like seeing a panda in the wild. This good news is offset by the fact I haven't had any running water since 9.30 this morning. Because I can't do any laundry or make a cup of tea I've just been indulging in one of my secret fetishes to cheer myself up: reading cook books in bed. (Today it's Nigel Slater: the kitchen diaries.) Damson crumble; roast goose; unpronounceable South East Asian sauces - welcome to my inner life.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Isn't she lovely?

Night of the long cries

Something has gone crazily wrong with Emma's sleep.

She used to be a great little sleeper; cymbals clashing next to her head, sonic booms booming, Gloria doing her best Maria Callas impression - nothing had the power to wake her up. Even waking her from daytime naps I used to have to put some loud rock music on, take her covers off and wait 15 minutes before she stirred.

But since last week all that has changed. Now at the first murmur from Gloria, Emma wakes up and scuttles into our bed. This is OK for about 5 minutes; then she snorts and snuffles and kicks like a mule. During this time one of us is calming G down, which takes a good hour in itself - she still hasn't learnt to settle herself back to sleep. It's the subject of much anguish and desperate strategising at Chateau Scho.

When G is asleep, and Emma has dropped off, we carry her back to her bed. She wakes up immediately. We have the following conversation:
E: "Stay here, Mummy!"
me:"No darling, it's night time and I'm going back to bed. Go to sleep."
E: (louder) "STAY MUMMY!"
me: (frightened the Gloria will wake up) "OK, ok! Sssshhhhhh!"
E:"Hold hands."

So I (or R) sit next to her bed on the floor (fiendlishly uncomfortable) holding hands, until she goes to sleep. Just when you think she's off or you attempt to move your dead leg she squeezes tighter: "STAY HERE MUMMY!".

A couple of nights ago we tried to shut the door and ignore her. The result? An hour or more of "M-M-M-MU..(sob) MMY! DA (sob)..DDY!" at 1.30am at the top of her voice, furious banging from the concierge, and yes, Gloria woke up and we had Maria Callas all over again. Between us we have done tears, rage, pleading, punishment, disinterest, capitulation and now...just exhaustion.

So now she just comes into our bed. We sleep badly and live with it. And it goes against all my childrearing principles. (Still better than the wrath of the concierge, though.)

Friday, November 10, 2006

Morbid thoughts

Home alone, apart from Gloria who is asleep.

What I ate for my supper: leftover rice, tomato lentilly thing with broccoli, 2 clementines and 2 squares 74% dark chocolate. Yum yum.

What I have been doing for the past couple of hours: staring at the Internet, blissfully chatting to my best friend, pacing the flat slightly aimlessly, wishing the DVD player wasn't broken, wondering what will eventually finish me off.

What I think will eventually finish me off: it's either heart disease or skin cancer. Heart disease because I LOVE dairy products - cheese, butter, full-fat milk, cream, clotted cream, all of it. Skin cancer because I am very pale with large moles. I am the awkward lady with the big hat and the pained expression on the beach. Thank God for winter, at least everyone else is covered up too. Then again winter = covered up = no one minds you being fat = brandy butter, please.

Heart disease wins.