Mum2Vet 1st Edition
I'm baaaaack!!! Well, part of me is. I've lost a large portion of my brain in the last 7 months. I have poured milk into the instant coffee jar and spread my crumpet with Sudocream but otherwise I've been doing rather well I think (just don't tell the rozzers I forgot to insure my car for the best part of my maternity leave).
1+1 most definitely does not equal 2... it equals something more like 8.9 on the Richter scale, which is probably why everyone keeps telling me that having a third doesn't make much of a difference. I don't intend to find out if it's true - these breeding boots are well and truly hung up. As much as I'd love a brood worthy of it's own sports team, I'm not sure I could cope mentally. Don't get me wrong, I love my children dearly but they are markedly harder to please and placate than the worst equine clients, so hand me the bute and I'll be in that estate car before you can say Pedro Pony.
I've been asked a few times whether I'm missing work. The truth is I haven't had time to until now. 6 months of leaky nappies, projectile vomit and psychosis-inducing crying (the baby's not mine, although it's debatable who reached the furthest neighbour). However, the surprisingly smooth introduction of the bottle and the charitable offerings of grandma's babysitting services meant I could jump at the chance of using some 'keeping in touch' (KIT) days recently. The busy October Yearling Sales gave rise to a fortnight of 'touching' which has been immensely pleasurable. I've relished the non-babycentric conversation, the office banter, the mental arithmetic (which I admittedly got wrong... but grateful for my colleagues for not laughing out loud at my failed attempts to calculate antibiotic doses), the client interaction (I saw many of my favourites who were cockle-warmingly welcoming on my brief reappearance), and of course the horses... I have truly missed these magnificent, sometimes bastardous beasts. They really make me tick.
The first KIT day presented with an disconcertingly empty diary and I wondered whether I might get called to an emergency where I would suddenly be struck with shell-shock and forget what to do. But alas, it didn't stay empty for long and I slid comfortably back into my pre-pregnancy self and the greatest part was I had no wretched bump to keep out of trouble! I was lunging, ducking and diving my way around the stables with the bargiest of cobs and most uncivilised of yearlings, loving every minute rather than desperately trying to improvise a quick-step which enabled me to direct the unborn sproglet from being used as a buffer. When one particularly dilapidated backyard breeder told me from his safe distance in a comedically strong Norfolk accent, that "these foals are wild!" (as if he was immensely proud of the fact), instead of getting hyperhidrotic I took off my jacket and rolled my sleeves up.
The fortnight of KIT days was so enlivening I can't wait for January to arrive... however I mustn't wish the mat leave away. The new arrival is crawling already and before I know it he'll be walking and talking and the 'baby' will be gone. Cherishing every minute with them is so important but it's also nice to know that I haven't lost sight or feel of who I am alongside being a mum. I suspect the children wish I could do more KIT days, as I was definitely a more patient, calm parent over the last two weeks!
Mat leave has also acted as a time to gather thoughts and think of the future. Never one to kick back and do nothing, I've been keeping up with the extracurricular activities of organising courses, writing chapters and preparing presentations. This has definitely kept me from drifting out to sea - my eye is firmly on the destination and this crow's nest has served well to improve visibility.
CPD has been manageable with the courses I'm organising and of course the wonderful BEVA Congress. I managed to get the Boob Monster on the bottle just in time to disappear to Liverpool for what turned out to be a bit of a bender. That first taste of freedom was sweet although the feet were out of training for the heel wearing marathon - somewhere there is footage of me suffering from "lead boot syndrome" (a most unsightly condition where the unprimed wearing of heels post-partum results in the inability to lift one's unshod foot from the cold marble surfaces of the hotel lobby floor). I'll be in full training before next year's Congress so hopefully there won't be a recurrence of this ailment. There was the rather unglamorous necessity of 'pumping and dumping' whilst at the conference centre. I'm now familiar with all the best places to go for a quick spot of 'stripping out' whilst at the ACC. The only downside was discovering my boobs don't like the milking machine, which sounds like an old dot matrix printer. A severe lack of 'let down' left me sporting some uncharacteristic bazookas which entered the President's Reception well before I did and attracted some blush-worthy remarks from a certain repro vet.
So it's back to the children for another 3 months, after which the return to reality will truly condense. I'm going to celebrate with a new headtorch as I will be in it for the long haul now, no cutting Petzl corners "because I'll be on mat leave soon" - I'm off to get me some lumens, and I feel quite excited about it... beats shopping for the least drippy sippy cup anyway.
1+1 most definitely does not equal 2... it equals something more like 8.9 on the Richter scale, which is probably why everyone keeps telling me that having a third doesn't make much of a difference. I don't intend to find out if it's true - these breeding boots are well and truly hung up. As much as I'd love a brood worthy of it's own sports team, I'm not sure I could cope mentally. Don't get me wrong, I love my children dearly but they are markedly harder to please and placate than the worst equine clients, so hand me the bute and I'll be in that estate car before you can say Pedro Pony.
I've been asked a few times whether I'm missing work. The truth is I haven't had time to until now. 6 months of leaky nappies, projectile vomit and psychosis-inducing crying (the baby's not mine, although it's debatable who reached the furthest neighbour). However, the surprisingly smooth introduction of the bottle and the charitable offerings of grandma's babysitting services meant I could jump at the chance of using some 'keeping in touch' (KIT) days recently. The busy October Yearling Sales gave rise to a fortnight of 'touching' which has been immensely pleasurable. I've relished the non-babycentric conversation, the office banter, the mental arithmetic (which I admittedly got wrong... but grateful for my colleagues for not laughing out loud at my failed attempts to calculate antibiotic doses), the client interaction (I saw many of my favourites who were cockle-warmingly welcoming on my brief reappearance), and of course the horses... I have truly missed these magnificent, sometimes bastardous beasts. They really make me tick.
The first KIT day presented with an disconcertingly empty diary and I wondered whether I might get called to an emergency where I would suddenly be struck with shell-shock and forget what to do. But alas, it didn't stay empty for long and I slid comfortably back into my pre-pregnancy self and the greatest part was I had no wretched bump to keep out of trouble! I was lunging, ducking and diving my way around the stables with the bargiest of cobs and most uncivilised of yearlings, loving every minute rather than desperately trying to improvise a quick-step which enabled me to direct the unborn sproglet from being used as a buffer. When one particularly dilapidated backyard breeder told me from his safe distance in a comedically strong Norfolk accent, that "these foals are wild!" (as if he was immensely proud of the fact), instead of getting hyperhidrotic I took off my jacket and rolled my sleeves up.
The fortnight of KIT days was so enlivening I can't wait for January to arrive... however I mustn't wish the mat leave away. The new arrival is crawling already and before I know it he'll be walking and talking and the 'baby' will be gone. Cherishing every minute with them is so important but it's also nice to know that I haven't lost sight or feel of who I am alongside being a mum. I suspect the children wish I could do more KIT days, as I was definitely a more patient, calm parent over the last two weeks!
Mat leave has also acted as a time to gather thoughts and think of the future. Never one to kick back and do nothing, I've been keeping up with the extracurricular activities of organising courses, writing chapters and preparing presentations. This has definitely kept me from drifting out to sea - my eye is firmly on the destination and this crow's nest has served well to improve visibility.
CPD has been manageable with the courses I'm organising and of course the wonderful BEVA Congress. I managed to get the Boob Monster on the bottle just in time to disappear to Liverpool for what turned out to be a bit of a bender. That first taste of freedom was sweet although the feet were out of training for the heel wearing marathon - somewhere there is footage of me suffering from "lead boot syndrome" (a most unsightly condition where the unprimed wearing of heels post-partum results in the inability to lift one's unshod foot from the cold marble surfaces of the hotel lobby floor). I'll be in full training before next year's Congress so hopefully there won't be a recurrence of this ailment. There was the rather unglamorous necessity of 'pumping and dumping' whilst at the conference centre. I'm now familiar with all the best places to go for a quick spot of 'stripping out' whilst at the ACC. The only downside was discovering my boobs don't like the milking machine, which sounds like an old dot matrix printer. A severe lack of 'let down' left me sporting some uncharacteristic bazookas which entered the President's Reception well before I did and attracted some blush-worthy remarks from a certain repro vet.
So it's back to the children for another 3 months, after which the return to reality will truly condense. I'm going to celebrate with a new headtorch as I will be in it for the long haul now, no cutting Petzl corners "because I'll be on mat leave soon" - I'm off to get me some lumens, and I feel quite excited about it... beats shopping for the least drippy sippy cup anyway.
Comments
Post a Comment