Sunday, 31 October 2010

Getting back to "normal"


Chipirones

It has taken us a while to settle and get back to normal after our recent trip to Spain. We normally return with our suitcases full Tupperware filled with home-made Basque cuisine, such as squid in its own ink (Chipirones), Cod in green sauce (Bacalao ala Pil Pil) and baby eels (Gulas).

Since our freezer is broken, we could not bring all of Sergio’s favorites and settled for more widely enjoyed delicatessen such as Chorizo,different hams and Manchego cheese.
What we had of extra space in the suitcases, where my wine bottles were supposed to be, was this time stuffed with Little H’s presents. I managed however to force in a few bottles and thanked the airlines for the extra kilos you’re able to bring when you are travelling with a toddler.

Now, six days after our return I am trying to recap what has happened since we were picked up at the airport by very eager Granny B and Grandad G, who had abstinences from not having seen Little H in two weeks, and cut their holiday one day short to greet us at Gardermoen. I am forever grateful, not only for picking us up, but for stopping at a petrol station in the middle of nowhere so that we could give Little H food to see if that could stop the high pitched “singing” from the back seat. Worked a treat.

 Monday was spent unpacking. On Tuesday we were back in Pilates, ran into class as the last one as usual, had timed the feeding wrong, so spent most of the time giving little H the bottle while watching the others do push-ups, some while breastfeeding. I am still amazed by the multitasking of the other mummies; I can barely give the bottle and wiggle my toes at the same time.

After the class I was tempted by an invitation to go for lunch, but not sure that I could join in. Reason being that Granny B had offered to take Little H for a couple of hours so that I could do some housework. How could I go to Condelica with the yummies and their angels without my own little H? The temptation proved too strong and after the hand-over to Granny B, I jogged to the café where I joined the others. I was not sure I would be allowed to enter without a pram, but I managed to sneak in and order my usual, but I definitely felt stares in my back and heard fragments of whispering. Some of the words I am sure I deciphered were: “without, shame, here at this hour, dare”. I will never go back alone.

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