Chapter 70

Monday March 2nd

Took Katy to baby group today.

She did a Mega Poo while we were singing head, shoulders, knees and toes.

It was so massive that it went right through her stripy tights and ra-ra skirt.

I put on her spare outfit, but then she did a second Mega Poo and ruined that too.

Luckily the other mums leant me stuff. Women are so nice.

When I got home, Helen was at the granite breakfast bar on her laptop, ready to go over wedding table arrangements.

She’d downloaded a wedding seating plan app, and kept saying, ‘Isn’t technology marvellous?’

Of course, then she looked all the way down her nose at Katy and said, ‘The socks – one orange, one pink?Really?’

I told her odd socks were the fashion these days, and she needed to get with the times.

I didn’t admit I’d borrowed clothes. She’d only have lectured me about ‘proper preparation of the baby bag’.

Tuesday March 3rd

Katy is officially old enough to have food, which means that she MUST sleep better from now on. Right?

The books all say start with baby rice, but it just looks so gluey and boring.

I phoned Althea for advice, and she said babies can’t digest grains until they’re at least a year. And that I should give Katy a soft-boiled egg yolk.

Apparently she did it with Wolfgang.

So. Here goes.

12pm

OMG – nearly had a heart attack.

Katy has just retched and retched until nothing more would come up.

Was so close to phoning an ambulance. Phoned NHS direct instead, and they told me off for giving Katy semi-raw egg.

I phoned Althea and she said, ‘Oh yes, Wolfgang threw up too.’

I said, ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

She said it only lasted the first couple of days. Then he was fine. Although he hates eggs now.

Wednesday March 4th

Tried baby rice.

Katy loved it.

Thursday March 5th

Worst night’s sleep ever. I think the baby rice gave Katy wind. Or something. She was up every two hours and just would not settle.

Poor little lamb.

I thought when babies had food things got easier.

Friday March 6th

Mum, Helen and I visited the village church today to get ‘ideas’ for the wedding.

Mum was very good. She only said, ‘Oh be quiet, Helen’ once. And she didn’t say a bad word about Nick. In fact, when Helen was inspecting the prayer cushions, Mum told me she wished Nick and I every happiness.

‘I’m always proud of you,’ she told me. ‘No matter what.’ She got all teary and told me she had the best daughter anyone could ever wish for. And that she’d always dreamed of me marrying in the village church.

I got teary too and we stood with our arms around each other, looking at the altar. Then Helen interrupted to tell us she wasveryconcerned, because one of the prayer cushions had ‘an unidentifiable brown stain’.

Monday March 9th

Helen has got us a ‘present’ – a cleaner called Juan.

He’s coming once a week to ‘help out’.

It’s Helen’s way of saying I don’t clean the flat properly, but I really don’t care what she thinks.

Juan works part-time as a masseuse, which means his hands are very strong.

After he’d cleaned this morning, the kitchen tap was loose and the oven clock was hanging off by its wires.

He also likes to fan things out. Takeaway leaflets. Remote controls. My sanitary towels on top of the toilet.

It’s weird having staff. I’m just not cut out for it. I spend the whole time apologising. ‘Sorry it’s not very tidy. Sorry I’m in the way. Sorry Katy keeps trying to climb on the vacuum cleaner …’

Tuesday March 10th

Met Althea at Great Oakley library today for Little Tiddles Story Time.

Wolfgang kept trying to grab the storybook from the librarian.

The librarian laughed at first. Then it turned into a bit of a struggle.

Wolfgang ended up sinking his big front tooth into her hand. He wrestled the book from her and no one could get it off him.

Althea was very proud.

She said, ‘He’s so confident, isn’t he?’

Wednesday March 11th

Althea phoned today to moan about her sex life. She’s seeing some twenty-year-old guy who lives on a canal boat. But apparently he has ‘no sexual energy’ and can only do it once a night.

She asked me how many times me and Nick did it.

I told her my sex life was non-existent right now.

Katy sleeps in our bed half the time, and Nick is always getting home late. Truth be told, he doesn’t seem that interested these days. Which suits me fine, because I’m way too tired to do anything in bed other than sleep.

Althea tutted and said, ‘Sex is part of womanhood. He’s depriving you of being a woman.’

But I don’t really care. Maybe it’s because we’ve been together so long. Maybe it’s because I’ve had a baby. I’m sure things will pick up when Katy’s a bit older.

Thursday March 12th

Read the Ferber controlled-crying book today and realised I could be overfeeding Katy at night-time. Maybethat’swhy she wakes up so much – because the poor little lamb has too much food in her tummy.

The book says babies need to learn to self-settle. And that parents need to help them self-settle by ignoring them.

Katy woke at 10pm as usual and cried for nearly an hour.

For the first three minutes, I was strong and serene (I am teaching her to self-settle). Then I started to panic (what if she’sdyingin there?).

Phoned Althea, and she told me I was being very cruel and that Katy was just expressing herself.

Then I phoned Laura, who told me to take it ten minutes at a time.

After three more minutes I cracked and went in to give her a cuddle.

She howled even more when I left. It actually turned into ear-splitting screams.

So I fed her. And then she still wouldn't stop crying.

I thought, ‘Oh my God, I’ve broken her! Now she’llneverstop crying!’

She did eventually. After half an hour of shushing and rocking. At which point I was way too stressed to sleep.

I kept going over and over the Ferber technique in my head like a mad woman. Then I obsessively googled ‘controlled crying’ and read a load of mums who said it didn’t work. Although plenty more said it worked brilliantly.

I just want to do what’s best. But there are a million different opinions on what ‘best’ is.

Why are there no answers! No instruction manuals! Why are babies so confusing?

Sunday March 15th

Mothering Sunday

Laura did a lovely thing – she booked me a facial in Kensington as a Mother’s Day treat.

I think she guessed Nick would forget. He’s not great with dates. He forgot his own birthday once, so I don’t take it personally.

Nick got all panicky when he realised he’d be looking after Katy. He said that he didn’t know what he was doing and that Katy would ‘probably get separation anxiety that will fuck her up in later life’.

Phoned Mum to ask how long she left us for as babies.

She said, ‘As long as I could bloody well get away with.’

Decided a few hours would probably be okay.

After going through Katy’s routine with Nick (she naps at 11am and will ONLY sleep with her Teddy Snuggles, her pink sleeping bag and her waffle blanket), I made a break for it.

I did offer to write everything down, but Nick waved me away with a ‘Stop stressing. Me and Katy boo will be fine.’

Facial was lovely. And I stayed awake for most of it too.

When I got home, Katy was red-faced and screaming the place down.

Nick had put her to sleep without her Teddy Snuggles, pink sleeping bag or waffle blanket.

After shouting at Nick, I spent an hour walking and shushing, trying to calm Katy down.

When she finally fell asleep, she sprung awake five minutes later like a manic devil child and I had to go through everything all over again.

Nick tried to help. He sang ‘Strangers in the Night’ in Katy’s ear. But it just made her worse.

When she finally fell asleep, I shouted at Nick for a full half hour.

He admitted he’d panicked and forgotten my instructions. And that I probably should have written them down.

‘I’m very sensitive,’ he said. ‘Katy’s crying goes right to the core of my being. I can’t think straight when she’s upset.’

Actors are SO dramatic!

Monday March 16th

Am really excited about the wedding now. Once we’re married, everything will fall into place. We’ll find a great house and FINALLY Katy will have a garden and a kitchen and a bedroom of her own.

Tuesday March 17th

St Patrick’s Day

Mum and Dad are doing their usual Paddy’s Night party at the Oakley Arms this evening.

I really wanted to go, just for an hour or so, but Katy just wouldn’t settle.

Mum has just phoned to drunkenly sing ‘The Irish Rover’. She was so loud she woke Katy up.

The pub sounded pretty lively.

I could hear an Irish band, and the ‘stamp! stamp! stamp!’ of people dancing on the bar. And Dad telling Brandi off for drinking Guinness from the tap.

Saturday March 21st

Ugh.

Nick’s got a last-minute theatre role. He’s playing a dancing jack-in-the-box. So he can’t take me to the Dalton Spring Ball tonight.

The charity auction is bad enough when you have a boyfriend. God knows what it’ll be like alone.

But I have to go. I can’t let Laura down.

Sunday March 22nd

Spring Ball was worse than expected.

Sadie took her gay make-up guy from Nick’s theatre, and Brandi took a semi-professional wrestler called Thorn. Laura went with Zach.

So it was just me without a date.

Just to make matters worse, Brandi insisted on doing our hair before we went.

Laura looked like a beautiful forest princess, with long, curly blonde hair all woven with silver thread.

Sadie looked like a fashion model.

I looked like I’d been electrocuted.

I suppose it wasn’t Brandi’s fault really. She’d never done highlights on a real person before.

On the plus side, we ended up sitting on the top table with the Daltons so we got all the good food.

I ended up two seats away from Alex.

He kept looking at me, so I asked him if he knew his vintage MG was parked on double yellow lines outside.

He said, ‘Yes. How’s the running going?’

I said, ‘Crap. I don’t know how anyone can run twenty-six miles.’

He said, ‘A marathon is twenty-seven miles.’

I said, ‘Maybe you can give me a piggyback.’

Alex said, ‘Juliette, you can do this. Don’t pay any attention to Nicholas Spencer. Look, I’m serious about training you. I’m in London this week – are you still at Helen Jolly Piggott’s place?’

I said yes, and Alex said, ‘I’ll call round midweek.’

A little later in the evening, when I was coming back from the loo, Catrina Dalton was leaning over Alex’s shoulder, all rock-hard white French pleat and finger-fulls of diamond rings.

She was whispering about ‘Sheila Duffy’s girls’, and saying, ‘Steer well clear if I were you.’

So as far as training goes, I’ll believe it when I see it.

Hopefully Zach and Laura will get married and Catrina Dalton will have us all as in-laws.

Including Mum and Brandi.

Ha ha ha!

While I was at the bar, the horrible charity auction began.

Duncan Cockett (local businessman and red-nosed drunk) did the hosting.

He owns Cockett Fitness but is fatter than most darts players.

Duncan boomed about what an honour it was to be at yet another Dalton charity event, and asked Alex and Zach if they’d be bidding.

Zach said he ‘certainly would be’ and took Laura’s hand.

Alex slid his hands in his pockets and said, ‘This is nonsense.’

Zach said, ‘It’s only a bit of fun, Alex.’