Lunch with Eve

Every so often I have lunch with Eve during the week. She comes in on the bus with H and we have a girlie lunch together.

Today we sat in the sun and ate pizza and played.

Lesson from today - don't wear nice expensive cream linen trousers around a toddler eating pizza.

Thankfully I only had one meeting this afternoon and kept my legs firmly under the table.

Home sick

I am now 7 years in HK (as of earlier this week). I came for one, maybe two. Seven years, one child and 3 jobs later I am still here. Oh, and I've got a mortgage too. Eve goes off to pre-school next month, I have a fair few good Chinese friends (always the sign you have assimilated a bit rather than just lived in an expat ivory tower). I love the speed and messiness and organic way in which HK develops. It has everything I like about life - good food, easy rowing, great weather, designer shows. It's been very good to me, I have a great job, a fantastic nanny (which enables me to enjoy the great job) and a wonderful bunch of friends. In all practical ways, HK in home. I always thought of relationship permanence could be measured in terms of how easily one could walk away. If that was the case with HK, we would be married and the divorce would be messy.

Which is why, after 7 years of being HK's biggest fan, I am finally starting to think about whether this is long term or not. Of course this comes after a wonderful trip home. The UK was at its best. Lovely weather, we stayed for half the week on the Cotswalds, including where I was at Uni and we got married. The other half was with my sister, who I love dearly and miss horribly. I am very close to my family, so being with them is a treat. Now all the little ones are getting bigger, it is such fun to be with them and they love being together. When we got home Eve's favourite game was getting on a plane to see E and J (my sister's kids).

But still, all good things come to an end and I am starting to wonder whether this may be nearing it too.

Then again, after a sunny weekend of rowing with my new rowing buddy C, playing on the beach with Eve, sitting on my balcony with a glass of wine and a book listening to the cicadas (as I am now) and the sheer convenience of everything here I will most likely change my mind.

Grumpy grump grump

I have been tagged by the lovely London City Mum to list my top 7 things that make me grumpy. After a shit week at work, a few things going not quite right at home, and another night on the sofa after working - again - after putting little one to bed, I feel the venom rising to the surface. So here it is.

1. People who don't do what they say they will when they say they will
I work in a job that means I spend a lot of my time persuading people to do things that they don't really want to, that means they will have to go out of their way just a little bit. Using my best good girl voice, feminine wiles and the odd bit of begging, I tend to get what I need. Which just means that it REALLY, REALLY annoys me when someone says they will do something and then fails to deliver. That goes for people who don't turn up to rowing outings when they know there is a crew waiting, or people who don't turn up for dinner parties (all too frequent in HK).

2. Lack of sleep
Pre-Eve I was an 8 hours a night girl. Or, in my more partying days, the 8 hours every 24 hours. I love sleeping. I love my bed. I have spent that last 15 years of my life being dragged out of bed when it is still dark to go rowing/running/circuits class. Therefore, I love bed. Since Eve, I have learnt that I can survive on 6 hours on and off sleep a night. But it is survival. In the last week, Eve has started waking up at 5.30am. Boy am I grumpy about it.

3. There being no bus between 7.45 and 8.10am
Most mornings the Boy gives me a lift to work. It's a bit indulgent but rather nice. However, when the Boy is away I have to get the bus. In HK we have minibuses that run fixed routes and will stop whenever you want to get on or off. Every big city should have them, it is just about the most convenient part of public transport. I am spoiled because one goes from right outside my block to almost right outside my office. They run every 5 mins or so from 6am until midnight. Except in that crucial rush hour time between 7.30 and 8.15 when there is only ONE bus! This lack of logic and customer centricity makes me grumpy anyway, but it is even worse because I know that all the buses and drivers are having a chat at the petrol station just down the hill. This morning I ran into the office because I couldn't face the stress of waiting.

4. Thin people
I know this puts me out there as a real bitch but I've never been a thin girl. I grew up with an impossibly stunning, tall, thin sister and now I live in HK where everyone is tiny and obsessed about staying so. I don't like feeling fat, therefore I get grumpy with anyone who makes me feel fat.

5. Lazy people
Sort of similar to number one, but this goes for people who are seriously lazy. Those who expect you to organise an evening out. People who complain about stuff but do nothing to change their situation. People who, like today, stand over me at my desk telling me which order they want me to put their charts into a pitch. On the latter, after 5 mins I politely suggested they make all the changes they wanted to themselves and then get back to me with the final version.

6. Cold
I've lived in HK too long, I need heat and humidity to survive - whatever it does to my curly hair. And I don't much like having one either.

7. Eve being in a bad mood
Mercifully rare, but there is nothing that makes me more grumpy than my darling, generally happy little girl, waking up in a bad mood.

I will tag Lady C to take up this idea.

Mothers Day

Happy Mothers Day (the international one) to all other international Mummies who are celebrating today.

Although I haven't got a present, I did get to do anything I wanted today. Cue a lovely early morning row in a double scull on flat water in the sun with a dear new friend, a fun church service and lots of cake with the other mummies at church, a boozy lunch, and an afternoon nap on the sofa after reading the whole of the Sunday newspaper in one go - a very rare treat.

I want to break free, oh I want to break free

From when a baby is born there seems to be an awful lot of baby stuff that is designed to keep a baby stationary. Bars on a cot. Car seat. Bouncy chair. As the mother of a very, very mobile child I have embraced this with gusto. When Eve got too big for her cot, not for us was the nice pink princess bed, No, we headed straight to IKEA and bought the highest bed we could find (it's a bit like bunk beds but with only the top one). I used the excuse that it was a sensible storage solution in our tiny HK flat but, in reality, it prolonged the immobility, and sleep, for me.

The other morning, after a rather large night out with Eve's godfather, I failed to hear her plaintive cries of "Mummy, I'm awake". Our nanny did, but she ignored them too. The first I knew about any of this was when Eve climbed into bed next to me and poked me, telling me to wake up. She has finally learnt how to climb down the little ladder from her bed.

Initially I was horrified at this new development. No longer could I rely on the bed four feet off the floor, heavy blackout curtain and sliding doors to keep Eve in. However, after 3 days I must admit I rather like it. Not only is my little girl becoming a proper big girl - a fact she is all too keen to inform me of - but I don't actually have to get out of bed when she wakes up and I can get another ten minutes dozing while we cuddle and she sings to me.

A stitch in time

I have a nice morning routine with Eve. Usually I tend to wake up when Eve does (there is something genetically programmed into Daddies that mean they just don't hear the morning wake up call - I've checked with friends), then we spend up to half an hour just the two of us. Sometimes I jump into her bed and we chat and play, sometimes we get up and read books, sometimes we just cuddle on the sofa. It is precious time.

Last Wednesday was one such morning. My toenails were in need of repair pending a possible outing this weekend so Eve ran to the kitchen to get my nail varnish from the fridge while I got remover in the bathroom. As she galloped back to me, she fell over, head first, into the door frame.

My general principle is that if Eve can wiggle whatever hurts and there is no blood then it gets ignored after a quick kiss from Mummy. Except this time there was blood, an awful lot of blood, coming from her face. And a lot of crying.

Quick as a flash the Boy was up, we all got dressed and were in the car to the hospital. I am not one to overreact but when it's a head wound and you can see the flesh below the flesh, a formal opinion may be needed. Luckily we live 5 minutes drive from HK's best teaching hospital. A public hospital nonetheless.

I cannot praise the HK public health system enough. We rarely use it, having health insurance from both our companies, but I think I will most likely use it again. Eve was seen immediately by the triage nurse, a doctor within an hour, an x ray immediately thereafter, and stitched a short while later. 4 stitches. Everyone spoke perfect English, not easy even for native speakers when dealing with medical terms and distraught parents. And we got all this for the princely sum of 100 Hong Kong dollars. Hong Kong Health Authority, I am your new biggest fan.

That said, I don't want to repeat the experience. There is something heart wrenching about a scared child or one in pain. The look in her eyes as she had her xrays taken and asked "what is that noise Mummy, will it hurt me?" (no, was my reply, it's just like Daddy's camera and takes a photo of your skeleton). Then having to hold her hands down while the nurse stitched her face up, all the while as she cried "no more Mummy, make it stop Daddy". I was almost in tears at this one.

Eve, of course, being a little trooper was fine about 10 seconds after her stitches were in and is wearing them like a badge of honour. She is showing no signs of slowing down or taking any fewer risks. I have resigned myself to the fact my daughter will never be a super model and all is back to normal.

Sound of silence

On Tuesday afternoon I took a bath. Not just any bath, but a bath at the spa of the Four Seasons Hotel. I had an amazing view of the HK harbour, a glass of champagne in one hand and a copy of Vogue in the other. The bath was full of some sort of milk, kept reheating itself, and would bubble gently if I pressed the right button. After my bath I had a body scrub, then a 90 minute massage, during which I fell asleep.

This was my mother's day present from Eve for last year (yes, May 2009). I'd not had time to do it any sooner.

Afterwards I chatted to my therapist, herself a mother of two young boys as it turned out. I told her how wonderful and calm I felt, she empathised with the need for Mummies to have some "me" time. But then I realised that it had nothing to do with the bath, or the indulgent pampering (although they were all lovely) but that this was the first time in just over 2 years that I have been somewhere that was completely silent. No darling daughter demanding I come and look at her lego house, no husband snoring or telling me about his rowing outing, no phone ringing on my desk or emails demanding I open them. Just pure, wonderful, quiet.