Yet more sleep deprivation

I couldn’t sleep last night, tossing and turning until 1am, and then woken by a crying child at 2, or at 5:30, or I don’t know quite when. I just remember waking up on Destroyer’s bed at 7:15, desperate to go back to sleep, and not being able to because I had an early morning phone call to get up and attend to.

When that was done, I put La Serpiente in a taxi (for we were running late) and took her to school. She coughed all the way. I got on a hire bicycle and rode to the station, took the MRT to work, and a few hours later got the glad news from my wife that La Serpiente had coughed and coughed until she was sick, and had gone home with a fever. Bad dad. Why did I take her to school?

I had my penance: a visit to the dentist to get a cavity filled. My dentist is very nice but seems very nervous whenever she talks to me. She has a fine bedside manner with La Serpiente, as I discovered last time we visited for a checkup, and is fine with my wife, but seems terribly concerned when she’s talking to me. Perhaps my enormous beard intimidates her. Maybe she’s worried that upon hearing the bad news about the state of my mouth, I’ll fly off the end of my handle and rage around the surgery. Or probably I’m just reading too much into this.

It was a small cavity but inconveniently positioned, so I had an hour of reclining in the chair, while she drilled and filled and polished, and I watched Mission Impossible 3. I don’t think seeing people getting shot is actually that helpful a distraction from the stress of having your mouth operated on, but then I’m not a qualified dentist. Afterwards, a little sore and numbed of face, I went back to the office and got moody with spreadsheets until 6, when I went home to my feverish child.

Destroyer was making the most of it by also watching TV, and she’s not even sick. I should have set her to some chores but it was far easier to have both kids rest their heads on me and watch penguins in Antarctica.

We put them to bed. I took an hour to get Destroyer down, or rather I woke up after an hour to find I’d failed and she was still awake and demanding bandaids for her knee, so I left and brought in my wife, and then she fell asleep on Destroyer’s bed instead.

Oh, what a night. Hopefully we’ll all be rested by tomorrow.

Hungover Saturday

My wife didn’t get in until very late last night, which left me up late worrying about salsa-related shenanigans, and just to prove low crime is not no crime, somebody had stolen her phone, which meant they’d also stolen her credit card and her ID card. The credit card is the easiest to stop, but a new ID card is $100 and a new phone is … who knows how much? So an expensive night.

This morning, I had photocopying to do: degree certificates and marriage certificates and birth certificates and every other form required for a residency application. Which was thrilling, as I’m sure you’d guess. Even after two hours of this, there were still things I didn’t have, like letters of recommendation from each of my previous employers. For a form that’s meant to take about 20 minutes to complete, there’s an awful lot to fill in. Although I guess I did overcomplicate things by having a wife and kids.

We got the girls home late, which meant they napped late, which meant they were a nightmare to put to bed this evening, which means it’s 10:30 at night and I’m only just out, and I’ve had at most two hours sleep since Friday morning. Not really adequate prep for tomorrow’s running session.

Not Swimming Lesson #1

Tonight I didn’t go swimming, and I was still so tired that I fell asleep on Destroyer’s bed before she did, which suggests that maybe it’s not swimming that knackers me out, it’s Thursdays. That’s aggravating because I don’t reasonably expect to improve at Thursdays, so all those lessons may be for naught, but it’s consoling insofar as it explains why I’m tired after every single swimming lesson.

I’m not swimming this week (or the next) because I only paid for ten lessons, and this week and next week I’m frantically busy or out of the country, so this pause to take stock makes a lot of sense. But the marathon training schedule marches on, and so only after I’d dragged myself out of Destroyer’s bedroom, and wasted most of the evening watching videos on YouTube or Netflix, did I finally get changed into my running gear and headed out.

It wasn’t a wonderful run; 2km down to the foot of Mount Faber, and 2km back, but it was at an even pace and I wasn’t reduced to terrifying weeping at the end of it, like I was in March. So there’s that to say for it.

It wasn’t a very good day for training though; lots of rushing about (two client meetings, both 500 yards from my house, but interspersed with returns to the office which meant I’d walked 12,000 steps today before I even contemplated ‘proper’ exercise. Then there was the can of Coke I shouldn’t have drunk, the quesadilla for lunch that keep threatening to repeat on me during my run (surely the statute of limitation for lunch shouldn’t allow for gastric distress almost ten hours after you’ve eaten the thing?) the ill-advised ice cream mid afternoon… Once again, I think I’ll put on weight while training for this marathon, which doesn’t suggest the best dietary plans.

Oh, it’s all muscle I’m adding. Honest. Stomach muscle.

Now, though, I smell of rotting apples. So at least my sweat is healthy. I hope.

A lovely Sunday

Destroyer slept in til 9:25 today, two hours later than yesterday. She came in and woke me up, and then a few minutes later a friend called to see if I’d go for breakfast over the road. So, remembering how sad I’d been for the last two days not to see anyone, I rushed downstairs and Destroyer and I gobbled a bowl of granola and marinated raspberries before sprinting back to the flat, because I had a brunch date at 11 on the other side of Singapore.

We went to a bakery called Firebake; it had four tables outside in the direct firing line of the sun, and a table for six indoors that was occupied by a family that appeared to have forgotten to bring their iPhones with them. Empty plates lay on the table, and the family were all just slouched at various angles, scowling at one another or the world and not speaking. After a while we got moved inside, and after the staff had tried to seat six of us on four bar stools, the Family Grump moved off and we got to sit down.

All through this, not a complaint from Destroyer. I feel bad to say how surprised I was by this, but she was absolutely the model child. She was happy throughout breakfast II, not making a mess, even without a sticker book to leaf through. I think this was helped by having a four year old girl to sit next to her, the two of them playing with Beany Baby unicorns, but it was altogether uncanny. Even when I gave her some of my pistachio sorbet and she was visibly disgusted, no vocal complaint was forthcoming.

So we took her for ice cream, and then to a friend’s condo, where she swam and played in the fountains for two hours, and finally I provoked a few years when we had to leave to get the bus to the Stadium. (Also, I’d run out of snacks.) She’d not had any attempt at a nap, but we got through another 90 minutes of play in the suspiciously murky waters of the waterpark at the Stadium, before a few tears (and a bladder full of pee squirted onto my shoes as I was changing her out of her swimming costume).

She remained mostly stoic on the way home, then devoured another few slices of pizza, complained in the shower when I washed all the lather off her and wouldn’t give her more soap, and only took an hour to have all her stories and agree to sleep on her bed instead of the floor, leaving me with time and space to put away laundry and relax. It was almost like I was a good parent today.

Tomorrow may be less fun. On noticing a stench from my pillow, I removed the case to find the pillow a nasty brown colour. IKEA may have to be our first stop. At least on a Monday it should be calm…

Rough night, slow day

Last night La Serpiente and Destroyer both woke up, about 2am, and I spent my night bustling between them and then sleeping on La Serpiente’s floor (Destroyer climbed in next to her mother, recognising weakness, and snuggled up to her). So when I woke at 7:15 this morning, I wasn’t exactly thrilled. Continue reading “Rough night, slow day”

Chopsticks, a whole lot of yelling, and bed rest

La Serpiente greeted me at the door this evening, brandishing a pair of chopsticks that she’s learning to use. She had both a swimming lesson and a music lesson today, so by 6:30 she was brutally tired and manic, alternating bouts of weepiness with demands that we sat with her and read her a book about guinea pigs. Then she cried a bit, and sat at her table singing Japanese songs. As I remarked to my wife, her Japanese singing might seem impressive for an almost-four year old, but it looked like she was reading the words. (Disengage sarcasm now…) Continue reading “Chopsticks, a whole lot of yelling, and bed rest”