Day 2 of 2

Kate has just left home for the second of her two days work this week.

That's not really officially a 'working mum' yet in my book, whatever she says.

(But McCann have been awesome with the staggered start: 2 weeks at 2 days, 2 weeks at 3 days, then up to 4 days for a new life as a 'part-time employee' according to her contract).

Needless to say, the 'part-timer' label is a particularly sharp arrow in my quiver of future slants. I just need to use it sparingly.

STOP THE PRESS

Kate went back to work today and her new email address is Kate.Roskill

I didn't even have to ask her to do that. Which is all the more surprising given the whole holding onto the maiden name thing was such a bone of contention after our (glorious, happiest day of my life, blah blah) wedding.

My eradication of the Harris name is almost complete.

Mwoahahahahaaaa...

A new day, a new dawn

So, today is Kate's first day back at work for 10 months.

She's remarkably calm about it all and Maddy is decidedly unphased by the whole thing. In fact she just sat on the bed this morning laughing. Kate, that is... I mean Maddy.

Charlene, our new super nanny, turned up much to Maddy's delight and the two of us headed off to work. Of course, it's helped that we've had Charlene doing a few hours a day for the last fortnight. And Maddy's now far more excited about new people turning up than she is about seeing her own parents. We're trying not to take it personally.

My colleagues have found it highly amusing that I'm needing to leave work early a couple of days a week in order to 'release the nanny', as it were.

Let's see how the new routine goes, and just how much pressure our marriage is put under in the coming weeks. Oh yes, I'm all about those half full glasses.

You've been framed

The Holy Trinity of baby milestones:

1. Standing unaided (blink and you'll miss it)

2. Waving goodbye on cue (albeit prompted)

3. Laughing (or 'cough cackling' in Maddy's case)

All on the one piece of film:

(Spot the nervous parent jumping in at the end)

Comic timing

It's a must. Funny people go places.

(Which goes some way to explain why both Kate and I are languishing in careers in advertising, and if it isn't in the genes, it shouldn't really be a surprise that Maddy's thus far shown a distinct lack of it, much to our chagrin).

Her latest trick is to emit a distinctly fake, but very loud half-cough-half-laugh (a 'cough cackle'?) as normal people go about their normal routines around her; for no other reason than the butcher is cutting a joint of meat, or a waitress is clearing away our plates:

It wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't for the fact it makes Kate and I collapse into fits of laughter too, which in turn makes said normal person feel like we're all laughing at them.

Local shops and restaurants are starting to close their doors to the Roskill family.

The January self-purge

It would appear that even Maddy is affected by the New Year self-loathing that drives so many of us to sign-up for a gym membership we'll use three times over over the next 12 months, or start a diet that we'll have given up by the end of January.

A case in point:

Maddy yesterday morning (pre make-up) looking like a once cute starlet whose star has most definitely waned since she started binging on junk food (which she ordered on her iPhone) and wearing her unflattering pink pyjamas all day:

And then later that same day, looking serene and drinking a raw juice at Wagamama's having finally mastered the art of the straw:

Now that's forward planning

What with our childcare routine about to get a whole lot more complicated - traipsing across Kensal Green to and from Amy & Martin's house for nanny share duties - Kate has foreseen the regular leaving behind of Maddy's favourite soft toy.

So a new Raffy the Rabbit arrived today (otherwise known as a Just Jellycat Bashful Bunny).

We still can't bring ourselves to wash the original (it STINKS) but the new one has thus far gone unnoticed with her Madesty.

Sadly, despite this exemplary forward planning from Kate, I don't actually think Maddy gives two hoots about her 'favourite' toy. I'm increasingly convinced it's parental imposition. She merely picks up the nearest toy in her cot and conks out. This ease with which Maddy can channel and re-channel her interest does not bode well. I believe it's known as being fickle in older folk.

I think I'm getting the Black Lung, Pop

My claim on the Favourite Parent title is in real jeapordy, having recently passed a very unpleasant lurgy onto Maddy.

The poor mite kept waking herself up last night with a nasty cough; one not entirely dissimilar to Derek Zoolander's self-diagnosed bout of the Black Lung.

Happily though, she seemed to put illness aside and wriggle as excitedly as ever when I popped in to check on her. Although with the benefit of hindsight, I think that was more in anticipation of Calpol's sugary, throat-coating sweetness, than at the prospect of a cuddle from her guilt-ridden Pop.

Awight guvnor?

Somehow the Del Boy coat wasn't quite enough. We needed some accessories to help get the down and dirty look we've been cultivating.

Cut to a greasy spoon in North London and Maddy's first bacon butty. Laaaaverly.

(Okay, it was Queen's Park Farmers' Market and an organic lamb burger, but still...)

Oral hygiene

You can never start too young.