Lackadaisical

Pretty sure it’s lack-a-daisical

My mum was right…. I can be lackadaisical sometimes.

When I was younger I distinctly remember this word being levelled at me (I think my mum would like it to be known that she pronounced it correctly, for the record) and at the time I always felt it was unjustified.

I did just want to watch five more minutes, Mum. 

I was going to tidy my room later.

I wasn’t just being a lazy swine and laying on the couch watching Back to the Future 2 for the 30th time. 

Looking back, my Mum’s accusation was – of course – completely justified.

But I like to think my laziness has subsided over the years, especially since becoming a father.

Not only is there too much to do now to be lazy, but the fact that there’s a little version of me relying on my lazy ass to go out to work and keep him fed, clothed and generally looked after, means laziness just isn’t an option.

However….when it comes to exercise, I still feel that lackadaisical-ness return; that urge to sit on the couch for five more minutes, or to look out of the window at the rain coming down and say “I’ll go out when it stops”, hoping it never, ever stops.

Worst of all, I’ve even used Marley as an excuse:

“I would love to do more exercise, but now we’ve got Marley I just don’t have any time”

Sorry Marley!

At the end of last month, a good friend of mine challenged me to run 5k every day in December. For no reason at all, he just challenged me.

And I accepted.

Freezing cold run in Edinburgh, Monday 10th December

He must have caught me at a good time, because usually that is precisely the kind of thing I would use anything (Marley included) as an excuse not to do.

And tough as it has been at times, we’re almost two weeks into December and I’m still managing to get a 5k done every day, come rain or shine.

(Well, I haven’t actually been out in the rain, I’ve done most of the 5k’s on a treadmill. So, just come shine, really.)

But the point is, i’m getting it done. And I’ve been sharing my progress on Instagram to help motivate me, as it would be all the more disappointing (humiliating is the word) if I don’t manage to get it finished and everyone knows all about it. 

The reason I’m writing this post and sharing this progress is absolutely not to brag, by the way – I mean let’s face it, I’m hardly going to give Mo Farah a scare with my only-just-under-30 minute 5k times.

And nor is there a particular lesson or message I’m trying to get across by writing this.

I really just wanted to admit to the world that I can be a lazy swine at times, and that my Mum was right. But that I really appreciate that a friend challenged me not to be, and I accepted.  If that happens to encourage anyone else who, like me, is used to making excuses not to do something then that would be excellent too.

In the meantime, wish me luck…..and don’t forget to subscribe up on the top right so you get updates whenever I post this stuff!

“Nice”

Marley’s vocabulary continues to expand at a relentless rate, and he often surprises us with little words or phrases that I not only didn’t realise he knew, but that sound like they’re coming from the mouth of a 60 year old man.

For instance, after we’d had a friend visiting last weekend and it was time for him to leave, instead of saying goodbye to him Marley inquired: “where you off to?”

He also seems to possess expert comic timing.

After I had got out of the shower the other day, I could hear my wife on FaceTime to her grandmother. I tiptoed in to the room to get dressed, making a ‘sshhh’ gesture with my finger.

As soon as Marley saw me?

“DADDY’S NAKED!!!”

I think he shouted it five times before I got the chance to escape the room,  towel flailing behind me.

 

The real version may not be so nice…

Speaking of which, one of his favourite new words is actually “nice“.

It’s a fairly basic one, I admit, and he has known it for quite a while. But the interesting thing about Marley’s “nice” is that it has a whole new meaning.

“Nice” has in fact become a temperature in our household.

“I want my milk nice.”

“Make my water nice.”

“Daddy, is the bath hot, or is it nice?”

No-one knows how warm or cold nice actually is, but this has inevitably led to some confusion.

He was sitting with some pizza on a plate in front of him the other day, and when I encouraged him to eat it, I accidentally said it looked “nice.”

“IT’S NOT NICE!!! IT’S HOT!!” was the screamed response.

Silly Daddy!

Footnote: Marley is now over his bout of chicken pox, and was feeling much better until influenza hit this week (despite having the nasal spray vaccine about a month ago).

Let’s hope he is just getting all these illnesses out of the way in time for Christmas!

 

Chickenpox

A couple of weeks ago, we took Marley out to get chickenpox.

Sound harsh?

Well, yes, I suppose it is a bit….but we had actually been due to visit his chickenpox-ridden cousin anyway, even before we found out he was right in the middle of the most contagious phase.

We basically came to the conclusion that Marley – now that he is 2 and a half – is at as good an age as any to get the virus, so we took our chances.

It began about two weeks after that visit for Marley. And he was fine for the first couple of days; in good spirits and as happy as usual, no sign at all there was anything wrong except for a couple of little spots.

Monday and Tuesday were much the same, a few more spots maybe, but he was still pretty content and although he wasn’t allowed to go in to nursery he was more-or-less the same us usual.

But then there was Wednesday….

Marley was up most of the night – so WE were up most of the night.

We dabbed at his pox with calamine lotion regularly, we gave him anti-histamine to try and help with the itchiness. (One funny Marley Moment was when he made a funny face after having his medicine, so my wife asked him if he liked it and he replied: “it’s not the best!”)

We also plied him with about as much Calpol as it’s legal to give a toddler, but still he was boiling hot.

He was grumpy as hell because he was so incredibly itchy, rolling around like a dog to try and itch the pox on his back.

Basically, all night long, he was just miserable.

So in the morning, I escaped to go to work (I had a webinar I had to run and couldn’t get out of it – I promise!) but I was getting regular WhatsApp updates from home.

“He’s really uncomfortable and sad.”

“He’s miserable.”

“He didn’t eat breakfast and then he wanted porridge for lunch….and then he didn’t eat it.”

And when I got home, he was so fed up with it that he ended up just slumped over the coffee table with his head in his hands, wailing: “I’VE GOT CHICKEN POX!!

And still he itched….

We tried to find other reliefs for him. We got some gel that’s supposed to help, and we even gave him an oat bath – the aftermath of which reminded me of the end of an especially heavy night on the sauce….

Ultimately, it’s really hard to know what works and what doesn’t for chickenpox. Thankfully, by the time Thursday morning came round he had started to feel a little bit better.

The itching had relented. The pox went from being little red itchy things to larger crusty scabby ones (sorry for that little detail).

And after another oat bath – strained oats this time, after advice from friends on how to avoid a pukey-looking bath – he slowly got back to his normal self.

Chickenpox – check!

Another milestone reached for Marley….time to dance on the table.