Tag Archives: new house

Perfect weekend

Noah's Ark Houston

Quality Mummy-son time

2 1/2 years in, and I am definitely still adjusting to motherhood. 3 years in, and I am still adjusting to Houston. I have written before that I was unhappy for much of 2014, and 2015 was looking to possibly shape up in a similar way (albeit a little better). And honestly, partially because I don’t really recognize myself as unhappy (maybe a bit ‘flat’ or a bit ‘whiney’) until I get it right. Until I realize that I have made myself happy. That happened this weekend.

Saturday morning I took Sam to a kids’ swimming pool (Noah’s Ark) and we just had a blast. It was lovely to focus totally on him, and to be a big kid myself – yes, I climbed through all the water tunnels (so elegantly with my whopping bump), went down all the kiddos’ slides and picked Sam up and threw him in the water fountain (much to his delight). It was delightful, silly, exhausting fun.

I definitely did not look this cute on the slide

I definitely did not look this cute on the slide

Cue a stupidly large Mickey D’s, and then an unplanned nap on the sofa. Although I was woken by Sam waking from his nap (after only 2 hours! 3 hours at the pool is supposed to buy me more than 2 hours!)  he then played happily for several hours while I made a new card for my Etsy shop (<— still a work in progress) and updated my Stampin’ Up! blog. Pizza dinner, easy night down for the dwarf and then movie night with the Husband – we watched St. Vincent which was pretty good.

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Baby shower card

Today I played hard with the kiddo in the morning and then went and helped a friend set up her Stampin’ Up! website. She fed me lunch and I got a delicious frozen StarBucks on the way home. Sam woke the second I got home (again, after only 1.5 hours! What is up with this kiddo?) so we tidied the house together and then hit the garden.

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One of the best things Wes & I did was fence off a small area of our garden for Sam. We put in his sandbox, my hammock, and small IKEA table and chairs, a bench, a slide and a paddling pool. If Sam and I go out there I can get snatches of anywhere between 15 and 90 minutes to myself blogging, surfing the internet or reading. And when he does want to play, it’s easy for me to engage in water fights and sandcastles and chalk pictures on the wall. We usually have a blast and today was no exception.

Tea, Emma Bridgewater cup, biscuits for dunking, blogging and the boy playing happily - what more could I want?

Tea, Emma Bridgewater cup, biscuits for dunking, blogging and the boy playing happily – what more could I want?

 

We finished up with snuggles in the hammock – occasionally Sam will take his sippy cup and drink it like he would drink from a bottle as an infant, seeking out things to play with with his hands, his eyes going heavy and going into the ultimate snuggle mode – it’s BLISS.

Snuggles beats all else

Snuggles beats all else

Now the little one is in bed, I am finishing my blog post while eating delicious pecan toffee, and somewhere in there I even managed a face and a hair masque.

So – why was this such a blissful weekend? What made it feel perfect? It wasn’t tantrum free (you try telling a hungry 2-year old that is 1.5 hours past his nap time that he has to leave the swimming pool of awesomeness). I bought a new nail polish and don’t like it (damn you Essie). I didn’t get time to blow dry my hair and it looks a mess. I did, however, have time to really play with and engage with Sam – both at home and out and about. There was time for my hobbies, and some friend time. But what is most surprising, is that there was no work. Not a single email, nor a review. I didn’t open anything I am working on to poke at it, and yes, I let a few overdue things just sit in my inbox (I am certainly not luxuriating for time at work right now).

It’s odd. It’s uncomfortable if I think about it, and yet it seems like the most natural thing in the world. I realize that even 2.5 years in, I am definitely struggling to adapt to (working) motherhood. When I became a mum, I tried to carry on just like before – keeping work the same and fitting the kiddo in around that. When I couldn’t fit everything in, I dropped the ‘me’ things – make-up, skin care, crafting, blogging. I squeezed Sam in when I could (after a whopping great 3 weeks of maternity leave), and I did whatever it took to keep work going.

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My world

It’s not working for me anymore (sorry for the pun). Academia is hard – the way funding is (pretty nonexistent) it seems like a lot of input for not a lot of payback. At the end of the road, when I have focussed so much mental energy on work, and I have nothing to show for it it is hard to look at my beautiful son and think “I am glad I put you second” and “I’m glad I don’t know you as well as I could” and “Sure, I read you stories, and tuck you in, and I’m the one you run to when hurt – but I don’t mind having missed out on those little interactions that are your whole world right now”. It’s hard to look in the mirror at an uncared for reflection and say “I am glad I look a mess”. It’s hard to look around the house and say “I don’t mind that this doesn’t reflect my personality”.

I don’t have the answer. Academia seems to get harder and harder, and survival seems to depend on more and more publications and collaborations and grant submissions. And truly, I love what I do! When I can focus on my real work (not work I have foolishly agreed to do for others, so I am working on reducing that), I truly am fascinated by behavioral genetic questions and I love answering them and writing on them. But kiddos don’t wait, and papers don’t hold me at night. It feels like the wonder in Science is getting less and less, while the wonder in my son grows daily.

Yet, I still hugely look up to so many great Scientists. I cannot let the dream of being like them go. It’s clear that I need to reduce work. I also need to streamline what I do (focussing on behavior almost exclusively) and be much more efficient when I am working (less Facebook, more papers…). Yet, I am scared I cannot be successful like that. It’s hard to let go of the 24/7 work mindset. But I am also scared that I won’t be be successful continuing like I am, and I will have sacrificed everything anyway and be left with nothing. Perhaps these are the ramblings of the third trimester, but  I am scared of not having more papers than most people at my stage, of not having more grant submissions, of not having funding. I am terrified of saying no. Yet, I feel I have to take the plunge. I need to turn work off sometimes, and reprioritize when I am at work. I’ve never been like this! I have always been able to do anything and take on any task. I could work my way out of mediocrity. Perhaps this was the fearless I needed to be when I wrote back in January 2014. Anyway, I have to give it go. I have to make some changes.

Hammock snuggles are the best!! If not the most flattering angle ;-)

Hammock snuggles are the best!! If not the most flattering angle 😉

I have no idea if anyone else struggles like this – I see so many people having careers and personal lives seamlessly, but I am happy to go out on a limb for a minute and say: I am struggling. I am not getting it right. I am changing. I don’t recognize myself and I am worried that the ‘old me’ would have negatively judged the ‘new me’ (what a bloody awful confession).

I am optimistic, I am scared, I am excited, I am terrified. I have no idea how this will play out.

 

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An Early Start on 2013 Resolutions

The title of this post is a bit misleading. I don’t really have any resolutions, but I do have some things I would like to do in 2013 (if you get the distinction). One is to turn our house into a home. The house we live in now is gorgeous structurally: large spacious rooms, wooden floors, sun room, dining room bathed in light. But we have not done much with it, other than move our stuff in, and keep it fairly clean and tidy.

I have not owned, or settled, somewhere for 3 years. I previously owned a flat in London, but I was heinously broke and struggled to deal with how tiny it was – it was a beautiful place, but very cluttered with all my junk (and animals). Then I rented in Birmingham – one nice apartment and one hell hole. Now Wes and I own our own home, and intend to be here a good 3-5 years at the least, I am more motivated to try to do something nice with it – something personal, something Better Homes and Garden-y. It has struck me how nice it is to go into Sam’s room which is properly painted, has a color scheme and decorations and so on. So, with the zest I previously applied to changing my body, I now intend to change the house.

First up: cleaning out my wardrobe, which was an absolute abomination.

This is how it started (and this was a GOOD day):

Messy wardrobe

Messy wardrobe

Yeah… it was bad. So, I put Sam in his jungle gym of entertainment and hilarity:

Fisher Price rainforest jungle gym

So amusing to a 7 week old

And set to it. These were my steps:

1. Take EVERYTHING out. Yes. Everything.

Empty wardrobe

Empty wardrobe

2. Sort it into piles:
‘work trousers’, ‘work skirts’, ‘work tops’, ‘work dresses’
‘weekend trousers’, ‘weekend skirts’, ‘weekend tops’, ‘weekend dresses’
‘sweaters’ ‘evening dresses’ ‘long dresses [not evening’], ‘vest tops’
‘pyjamas’, ‘sports gear’, ‘lounging around the house’

piles of clothes

This is actually organized believe it or not

Note: This is the ‘you have to break eggs to make an omelette’ stage. Also note: if you have been let off other house chores to get this done, and that person who is slaving away cleaning the kitchen sees this, they may go bananas at this stage. Weather the storm… weather the storm.

3. Go through RUTHLESSLY. Remove everything that doesn’t fit (NO it will NEVER fit), is tattered, is only in the wardrobe for sentimental reasons, is ripped or torn, doesn’t have anything else that goes with it or you always put on and take off again.

4. Then look at each pile and remove even more items if the pile is too big for your lifestyle e.g. I have not worn an evening dress for 3 years (sob)… I don’t need 11, no matter how beautiful they are. I don’t need 24 work dresses (yes really).

Every empty hanger is a piece of clothing given to charity!

Every empty hanger is a piece of clothing given to charity!

Yeah, the above pic shows how much I got rid of. Ouch.

5. Rehang in the sections from stage 2.

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All told, it took about 7-8 hours (over 3 days) but felt MARVELOUS when done. Future projects will be more crafty (I am making a blind this weekend… bit nervous about that) but this was a great, and needed, start to sorting this place out.

Monkey stayed with me most of the time, but graduated to his tummy time mat 🙂 :

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Goodbye second trimester….

Or, as this post could be called “In which Lekki gets on her soap box again”.

According to this handy little calculator (which is also very helpful at helping me pretend not to be a completely useless-mother-to be and thus be able to actually answer the question “how far along are you?”) my third trimester begins anywhere from August 4th – August 9th. I.e. soon. It has been a while since I last blogged about my pregnancy – but you can take this as a good thing: basically I have been having too much of a rip roaringly good time traveling to NYC, entertaining the bestie on her sojourn to Houston, and working hard. OK, maybe the last one is not so good… I have also not had too much to blog about: straight forward as this pregnancy has gone. I did have lots of growing bump pics, but then some evil-knevil stole my phone and took them away from me. I hope s/he gets some serious guilt when he sees a bunch of bump and ultrasound pics, now lost forever. But… that’s by the by… let’s see how we are doing:

So, I am *checks calculator* 26 weeks and 4 days… 3 months to go! The baby is viable (woo-hoo), so come on out FW (but not like, just yet, or anything). The bump is pretty good, I have gone from this:

End of the first trimester

to this:

20 weeks

To this:

End of second trimester – 27 weeks

with weight gain at a healthy 13 lbs (and rising!).

My comfort level is pretty good. Have had one or two issues: while walking in New York I got this ‘orrible shooting pain down my back through my butt to my knee that made it impossible to walk – in fact made it only possible to literally collapse, thank goodness for NYC cabs everywhere. Mmmmmm…. sciatica. An exercise-based management technique has helped no end. Oh, and I had a night of false labour last week, which is waaaaaaay earlier than expected. Which was terrifying as I DID NOT HAVE MEDICAL INSURANCE TO CHECK EVERYTHING WAS OK, which Republicans think is just fine, as insurance companies should be allowed to exclude ‘pre-existing conditions’. Cough. Basically I woke up in the middle of the night with lower back cramps that radiated to my lower belly. The pain was impressive, and no amount of rocking / ball sitting / walking / curling up and sobbing relieved it. A quick internet search (because, yes, when you have no medical care Google is your only friend) revealed that it was likely heightened by dehydration so I drank 60 oz of water, lay on my left side, and eventually it eased allowing me to sleep for brief 10 minute snatches in between loo trips, marred only by my reassessment of the decision to attempt a natural birth. As you can imagine, I was a rockstar at work the next day.

I have, however, found an OB / GYN. Which was not as easy as it sounds. You think it would be, as you are basically saying “hey, in the US, people massively overpay per person for worse health outcomes, because they are afraid of government interference… so I would like to have you paid vast amounts to not give me the most effective care. Please”. Piece of cake, right?  Nope, because I have had a ‘gap in care’ and so am ‘high risk’ and no one wants to take me. After yelling ‘so you are going to deal with my LACK of care, by denying me more care?’ and  ‘Just to get this straight: you think that I may have some uncontrolled health conditions that could make the birth complex, difficult and expensive. So instead of treating them early and turning a complex, difficult and expensive birth (which the state has to pay for legally, as it is ’emergency care’) into a simpler, easier, less expensive birth… you are going to let them run amok and so become a more complex, more difficult and more expensive birth?’. After receiving several affirmatives, the Women’s Healthcare Specialists of Houston took me on. Hoorah. But in the process of which, I had to do all sorts of promising and faxing of records and proving that I and little Firework, are, to the best of my knowledge, exceptionally healthy. Because you know, we eat right, sleep well, do regular exercise yada yada yada. The ob / gyns all opined that the only reason I had had such an easy pregnancy so far was because I was in, and had maintained, excellent athletic shape. Yeah… that exercise and athletic shape thing. So, in other news, I have got my ever expanding butt off the sofa for the first time in 9 weeks (where has the time gone??) and completed 2 yoga classes, one strength class and 2 ‘runs’.

When I say run, I mean going from 8.5 min miles to 10 min miles. And from 15K to 2.5K.

Post run sweatiness

Included for Walter’s confused expression; he is thinking “I didn’t know whales ran?!?”. Also ignore my terrible hair – there was pre-dye gook in it, and so it looks straw like and straw coloured.

And by ‘strength’ I mean lifting 10lb dumbells and then collapsing on the floor to oogle at John Stewart on my iPad.

John Stewart, lookin’ smokin’ and saying smart things… as he does.

But, it is a start. And Wes is working on the diet, sneaking vegetables into my meals and snacks without me protesting:

“Would you like a chip, Lekki?”

“Mmmm… yes please…. wait, this chip is surprisingly green and ungreasy and kale like”.

He made kale chips.

Wes’ kale chips – actually really delicious

Apart from the potential health hazard of the inherent shock at ‘the-McDonald’s-employees-miss-me-when-I-don’t-go-daily-Wesley’ making kale chips I am sure it is overall a good thing.

So… we have also been receiving awesome, awesome baby clothes and gifts. I absolutely LOVE everything everyone has bought for us.

Oh, and we have been doing the nursery (I was reminded of this as Holly managed to send babygros that matched the nursery perfectly. Cool.). Too early ye say? Well, probs not, as FW is due early Nov, I have a grant due mid-Oct, and am traveling for the last 3 weeks of Sept (work)… and possibly have another grant due mid Sept. So, working backwards, this means the nursery needs to be done by late August: 3 weeks’ time.  Thus we have a lovely grey nursery courtesy of my excellent paint-choosing skills, and Wesley’s excellent paint-applying skills

Dark, but soft, grey walls and our awesome changing table which was given to us!

and a sketch of a mural which I am going to attempt to paint. Yup, the girl who failed basic art at school is going to freestyle it on a wall.Results to come… (good or bad).

The nursery theme is clearly grey & white, with yellow and blue accents (to come) so we have these pics I made too:

Not sure if I want to redo these to make them tidier or not

Can’t wait to meet the little ‘un!

Anything Etsy can do…

My blog writing partner tonight.

Saturday

What a weekend. I got up Saturday, excited about the start of our Bradley classes. Bradley is a 12-week birthing course, designed to prepare the couple as a whole for a natural childbirth. 12 weeks seems a long time (one 2 hour class per week), but Bradley’s rationale is that the woman is preparing for a intense endurance exercise which you should try to enter at peak performance, which takes time – a lot of 5K programs are designed to be conducted over 12 weeks; and heck, running 5K (which I first did with no prep) is quicker and easier than giving birth. So, Bradley is designed to teach you optimal nutrition, exercises for fitness, and also proper relaxation. It is also partner / couple-  centric. The idea being that the ‘other half’ supports the labouring woman with full understanding through helping with positions, breathing and massage. When she transitions and wants to give up, it is him that stops her giving in too early. Maybe it is too much… all this ‘preparation’ – after all, didn’t women just give birth without preparation since forever, and don’t women still do it all the time now? Sure, but Wes and figured a few things:

(1) Babies are bigger, our fitness is not as optimal, and our endurance is probably lower than ‘since forever’

(2) Sure, women do it all the time without preparation; but intervention rates are soaring, and many people do not report a happy experience (many do). Why not prepare to make it as good / positive of an experience as possible?

(3) This is a good way for Wes to be involved: reading blogs and talking to girlfriends about birth over coffee is not exactly his style… coming along and learning how to be useful is

(4) The social / emotional aspects are appealing. We are both looking forward to learning massage and relaxation together, and to meeting some people here in Houston (more on that later).

Plus, it is only $250 for 12 weeks… pretty impressive. The only annoying thing, was that I was preparing for a 2.30 class… kind of annoying time. It basically makes it hard to do anything in the morning or afternoon: midday would have suited me better. But, hey ho, I decided to do a manicure in preparation:

RCM Envelope Please

For my birthday, my Mum got me a whole gel polish kit. Gel nail polish is awesome: you apply a basecoat, 2 coats of polish and a top coat, allowing each one to ‘cure’ (read: dry completely) for 45 secs under an LED light. The polish is extremely chip resistant, and your nails tend to be fairly protected against flaking and breaking.

After the final coat was on, I looked up the address for the Bradley class, and found that it was at 12.30 after all. Score one for having a better time, lose one for having missed the class. I was mortified. I texted our class leader to apologise and she was ever so sweet, saying we could come on Monday evening to learn the exercises for the week. Phew.

Not sure what I did after that: tidy up, unpack from NYC, sort and clean out the bathroom. Then I felt at a loose end… which is odd as I have plenty of hobbies I can do at any time: reading, working, gardening, exploring Houston, piano playing, movie watching… but none appealed. Going and getting some craft stuff to start to make things for Firework’s nursery appealed, but didn’t ‘click’ I just felt lonely. I realised: I miss female company. Mostly, I miss hiking with Stella or David, going and playing with Sasha, Liam and Rachel (who will do anything with me), cinema trips and chats with Kat and my bookgroup 😦 It’s fine; we have only been in Houston 6 weeks, and building up those sorts of friendships takes time. But… I do miss it. So, Wes came with me to Hobby Lobby and patiently waited an hour (OK, patiently waited 40 mins, then was a pest for 20 😉 ) while I got some craft stuff. Dinner out, and then home to organize all my craft stuff. Everything put in neat draws and filed away before bed.

For the crafting

Meanwhile… Wes was back in the attic trying to locate the source of water dripping through our ceiling. Joy.

Sunday

Sunday was… dramatic. We left for church in separate cars so that I could go to IKEA after and Wes could go to Home Depot so he could solve the dripping water, which by now was staining our ceiling, causing little holes in it, and threatening to ruin our new laminate floor. More joy.

Wes left 5 mins before me, and then I got stuck at a train crossing for ages. So. I was surprised when Wes was not at church. Very surprised. I called him – no answer. I couldn’t fathom why he had not called if there was a problem… or why he was not answering now. Unless she had been in a horrible accident. So bad, he could not even call to tell me. Cue slow tears descending into complete hysterics as a further 4 minutes passed. Then Wes turned up… no explanation. He forgot to charge his phone and had made his way there. Must have gone a different route. It took me a full 15 minutes to calm down… I do blame hormones.

So, off I went to IKEA. I hate IKEA. The whole thing is stressful. I hate most things in there. I 1/2 believe that Satan sends his minions for training there on a Sunday. BUT, my beloved Clio is coming out, and staying in Firework’s currently empty, save a beautiful changing table, room (also currently called ‘Clio’s room’). She must at least have bed linen and blinds. Blinds are hella expensive (if you want them to look decent), except at IKEA. So, in the interests of Clio sleeping, in something other than bright morning light, I braved IKEA.

It all went quite swimmingly, with me hankering after this for FW’s room:

For the nursing

until I got to the actual blinds. The walls are going to be a fairly dark grey. I could not picture wooden blinds against that. I just couldn’t. I had been all set on them, now I couldn’t see it. I called Wes. 45 minutes I spent discussing / researching blinds and alternately thinking I might like white drapes against the grey. Wes said everything right; from offering opinion, to saying ‘if you like something, get it and I will love it – really, this is your room’. But, I was overwhelmed. Possibly precipitated by the fact I had just fallen down the stairs (shoe broke as I was descending) and in an attempt to protect the bump had bruised my ass (isn’t there enough cushioning there now??) and smashed my teeth into the railing, I just dissolved into more tears draped over a stack of blinds. Not a few – but streaming, snot inducing, dress staining tears. The sight was quite pathetic: pregnant woman in floaty floral peasant-style dress, with broken flip flops weeping into the textiles at IKEA. I grabbed dark grey roller blinds, white drapes, fixing and high tailed it out of there.

To decide on the way home that maybe white blinds would be best.

Which made me cry.

I made it home. Just. My broken and emotional state was faced with the news that the plumbing is up the spout, can’t be fixed until we can get someone in, we can’t get someone in until we speak to the people who deal with our home warranty and so no air conditioning for us. Let me repeat: no air conditioning. It is some 90-100 degrees during the day and 80-100% humidity. NO. AIR. CONDITIONING.

Yes, this is a story of first world problems… but… still.

Wes took me out to buy me a craft table from Walmart ($35 steal) and insisted I bough a ‘chocolate turtle cake’ and bottle of wine. He is a wise man. I went up and crafted myself into calmness (see? I need Bradley. I need to learn how to relax). I am quite pleased with what I made for FW’s room (not Clio’s room, she shall be spared the infantile decor):

To be bookends?

I will make several of these into a tableau

and came down somewhat better. If not. Hear my no air con plea? Yeah. Hot. Comfort food of pizza, and turtle cake and wine later, and I was ready to tackle my plants, which had survived my NYC trip with varying success. They had dried out somewhat, and needed restaking – sadly, some of the stems had snapped under the weight of the leaves 😦 Hoping that they can regrow?

Quite a forest here – hoping they will be ready to acclimatise soon, and be put outside for increasing periods of the day.

So, as above, my seeds grown in a mixture of potting soil and perlite were doing very well. My seeds grown in peat pots, not so much:

Ugh.

But, whatever the outcome, gardening further calmed me. I am now sitting downstairs (it is slightly cooler) on a made up bed, with the dregs of my wine, preparing to read this:

Walter is sitting with me. He got into my chocolate Philadelphia and ate a pot of it, and would have been told off, had he not been looking so ridiculous:

My pot

So proud was he of his steal, that he carried the empty pot EVERYWHERE with him, even into bed with me.

Oh, some good news though. 2 crafting episodes, 1 IKEA trip, 1 gardening trip and 2 sorting binges and check out my manicure:

LOVE gel nail polish 🙂

Tourist-time in Houston and New York

I have been being a tourist. First up, in my new hometown of Houston. Last Saturday I was at somewhat of a loose end, so decided to explore my local ‘hood a little. Houston is huge and so I quite cherry picked a few smaller things to do. First up, antique shopping in Midtown. Midtown has a toad with a lot of antique shops along, each with quite a different flavour and I had fun perusing all the nik-naks. I photogrpahed this for Wes who loves antique highchairs, but as I am not a fan per se, he decided not to get it.

Then I went onto ‘The Orange Show’; quite a unique little place. And very hard to describe: just a $1 to see, it is basically an old, but very very small, theatre build by an eccentric who after writing a book on health and longevity wanted to encourage people to eat oranges. Throughout his life, he collected lots of ‘scrap’: pipes, wheels, seats and so on, and build a tiny theatre / maze in bright colours for people to watch his show. The show is no longer running, but the theatre is restored and you can wander around and just ‘play’. It’s kooky, fun and quite engaging.

Next up: Hermann Park and its Museum of Natural History, including their incredible butterly garden. The onto B&N for a coffee, a cookie, and a curl up with a new book on their big sofas 🙂 I had forgotten how much I like just going out and exploring.

The next day I flew to NYC for a training conference. I go to the hotel at 3, and knew I only had one afternoon to ‘see’ New York so I forwent the usual tourist options (which I would love to see sometime) for a 4-mile stroll (trying to get the exercise in). I walked from my hotel in Harlem (Harlem in itself is quite a fascinating site) down to Central Park, and was shocked at how beautiful and large Central Park was. It was nice to see so many people out and about being active, and how diverse the groups of people were: in their ages, their dress, their race, their activities.

I explored the park for a while and was ejected out – oh how convenient, on 5th Avenue. I meandered the shops, and admired the architecture

Learned there is a place called ‘Trump Tower’ the contents of which intrigued me, but turned out to be quite predictable:

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I went to the Lindt store… But really, where I wanted to go was:

[caption id="attachment_1333" align="aligncenter" width="535"] Tiffany & Co

Yes, with my new brown hair I totally put on large sunglasses and pretended to be Audrey Hepburn.

I am not the most conventional person in many ways, and rarely ‘fit in’, but I can also be very conventional in others, and sometimes… it is nice to be a cliche. I love Audrey Hepburn, I love her style, and by proxy, I love Tiffany. My parents (rightly) did not shower me with the 17th birthday VW Polo, and the endless parade of Ralph Lauren and Kickers shoes many of my peers got (I was not deprived in any way… I went on up to 4 holidays a year for freaks sake.. they just didn’t see the point or value in filling my life with those sorts of luxuries). But, on my 16th birthday: ta dah! A Tiffany necklace. Someone once said to me, “I don’t know why you wanted the necklace EVERYONE had”, but that was why I wanted it! It was sort of like a rite of passage (it wasn’t even an expensive one, just the Elsa Perretti small open heart in silver) and I got to do it, and got the magic blue box with the white ribbon (yes, I am a sucker for advertising). I loved it! And since then… I loved Tiffany & Co jewellery. Sure much of it is very affordable now – and T&Co made a decision to make it so – but heck, I can still choose to feel like a Princess. I think the jewellery is pretty, and extremely well made, and why not decide it is special? I am easily pleased 🙂 So, I went and wondered around THE 5th Avenue store and enjoyed it.

After that all sorts of pregnancy aches and pains were kicking in, and I was limping, so I got a cab back to the hotel, and ate take out pizza with netflix, surrounded by my goodies. Who says the life of an academic is hard?

What a haul 🙂