Digigran

Rock-a-Bye-Baby




Rock-a-bye baby, on the tree top
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall
And down will come baby, cradle and all

Wow, can't believe that I have not posted for a whole month, especially as the baby's birth happened almost to date on Dec 10th and not the expected 6th and at the beginning of December too. So, no excuses there for my long silence. I have actually thought about blogging a lot in the interim. However, I have also been caught up in a whole range of experiences that have militated against me finding a quiet time to write and cut and paste as I like.
I had my sixtieth birthday, showed

this film

at the local screenroom to celebrate (all my friends thought it very apt)
spent my wedding anniversary in

Paris

and then came home to a swathe of marking and assessment.
Did all of you know out there that lots of teachers spend their Christmas holidays focusing on professional development and writing assignments? Such dedication.

I've been thinking a lot though about the nature of blogging and the personal time it consumes, so that in my own time ( is that meat space, Julia?) having an experience and blogging that experience begin to compete for attention rather than complement each other. When I was waiting for the baby, there seemed ample time to sit and write about my expectations but since the birth there have been a series of events and work obligations that have demanded my full attention. Are most Bloggers then, people with a good deal of time on their hands, who live life vicariously in a virtual reality- or am I just disorganised? Yes, please do respond, I need to know how you mums manage it.

Anyway, much a surrounding the early days of the baby- the nature of the delivery, mum and baby adjusting to feeding rhythms etc mmm too personal to log on about here. And tin that lies another paradox. This seems the personal medium 'par excellence', but it is so very public too, so it's like those diaries in the newspapers ( see Michele Hanson) rather prone to posturing and positioning rather than the true confessional diary.
As you know, my son and daughter-in-law do not want me to publish any pictures of Alexander- so I can't fill the screen with his adorable little person. He is however very, very lovely and very like his dad- but then is the baby's father's mother (his gran)allowed to say that? Am I making some sort of family claim? I don't intend it to be. He does however reminfd me quite poignantlyof his father as a baby- except he has more hair.

Both equally lovely parents however, are just as besotted and have bought me number plates which end with NAN as my Birthday present. Look out for a LOL ( accepted clinical designation of elderly female patient!) in a

mini cooper

with

Mary Poppins personalised plates, reading something like:

MP05NAN in PINK!!!!

I bought the baby a soft cushion version to match.
Have now pushed him out in his pram for a walk, so more on prams and pushing and schedules next time I get round to blogging.