Often Blake gets up later than me, but today wasn't the case. He made his way to our bed in the middle of the night and started kicking my head around 6am. By 8am I gave up and got up.
I had a Red Bull breakfast (I hate coffee) and then my mobile rang. Blake was playing upstairs, but he immediately came down. He has a special sixth sense to detect when it's a bad time to demand attention. For example right now he came to me and demands that I'll pick him up so he's sitting on my lap now, making writing this a bit less comfortable. When I was just browsing the net he left me alone, but when I need to concentrate, that's when he'll suddenly want to be picked up. If Miron and I decide to try and watch a TV show, Blake will show up and sit between us with his iPod blaring random songs and cartoons.
The phone call was the first call I had with an interesting new potential client. We started chatting and the conversation was flowing when suddenly Blake was next to me, trying to get my iPhone while I was using it. I got him an iPod Touch so he'll leave my phone alone, but he still prefers my iPhone because it's more advance with a better screen and louder speakers.
"Is this a bad time? Do you want me to call later?" The woman asked.
"No, it's OK. I'll just move to a different room."
I didn't want to postpone the call because by all likelihood Blake will still be around as we haven't yet reached the point where we'd call Madonna or Brangelina to ask if they want to add a gay-parented baby to their exotic collection of children.
I walked around the ground floor and Blake followed. I walked into the small room at the end of the kitchen and closed the door. Blake was banging and crying out on the other side. I apologized and asked the woman to wait a moment. I grabbed Blake and dashed upstairs to Miron's study... Where Miron was also on the phone. I backed out of the study and closed the door.
At that point I was determined to get this conversation completed on my terms. I dashed back down to the kitchen, left Blake wailing on the floor and I walked outside into the back garden. It was soaking wet and cold and I was wearing a t-shirt, jeans and socks, but at least I had some privacy. Blake was throwing a tantrum in the kitchen, but his noise was far away and muffled.
The conversation resumed and was pretty good. I was walking on the wet grass, trying to carefully avoid Dexter's land mines that were now rehydrated back to squishy texture. Then I noticed the door from the kitchen open and Blake stepping outside in his PJs and no shoes. The door handle is supposed to be tricky to use, but nothing Blake couldn't figure out after a couple of moments.
I apologized again and ran towards Blake. I grabbed him and went back inside and up the stairs. Miron wasn't on the phone anymore so I dumped Blake in his room, before either one of them could make a pip and rushed down again (not before leaving muddy stains on the carpet with my soaking wet socks).
I resumed talking, but got no answer. I could still hear that someone is on the other side and looked carefully on my phone. Yep, a great feature of the iPhone's touch screen: You can accidently mute the conversation by touching the phone with your ear. I sorted that out and quickly finished the conversation, agreeing to meet up tomorrow, as the dogs decided to start barking their thick heads off at the garbage collectors.
I love my son more than life itself, but sometimes I sort of wish he came with a mute button.
Then again, I bet many people say that about me!
Later I had to go to do a couple of chores in town and I took Blake with me because I knew he'd enjoy it. We went on the London Underground and as expected he finds the train ride soothing and he fell asleep right away. Of course he couldn't have his nap when I was having my important phone conversation.
He slept through the visit to the High Court to drop some legal documents (nothing too exciting). There were tons of people and media at the entrance. Apparently something to do with a guy called Julian Assfudge and his website WinkyLick or something. Must've been a big deal as there were guys with giant cameras surrounding every inch of fence around the court trying to sneak a peek. I don't know, I try to ignore the news nowadays, unless it's a report on some scientific research about the positive effects of eating chocolate.
I made my way through the crowd pushing my sleeping son. I kept my eyes down so no one would recognize me and suddenly point and shout "Hey! It's Mickey Blumental from Taking the Mickey!" and suddenly all the cameras will be on me. Too embarrassing, I wasn't even wearing makeup. Blake missed out on the high ceilings and fancy decorations inside the building and me carrying his heavy stroller every time we encountered stairs.
He woke up in time for lunch, though.
On the way back I was going down the escalator with the stroller and some guy asked me if I was okay. The way I was holding on to the stroller on the sloping moving stairs looked awkward, but actually wasn't. I looked up and said I was fine. The older man smiled in surprise and said "Oh, of course. You're a man."
How kind, courteous and sexist.
I guess my hair is getting too long again. You see, I'm quite pretty if I say so myself and with long hair at some angles I'm quite the babe. Especially if you add a baby stroller to the mix. If I wear a red shirt or sweater, forget about it.
Me and my brother back in 2003 when I was pretty.
During one flight I looked out of the window and the flight attendant didn't see my face, so after serving Miron he asked me "what would madam want?" When I looked at him he apologized and corrected himself.
Once we landed and got to luggage collection an older man tried pulling his suitcase from the moving belt, but it was too heavy and he lost his grip. I jumped up, grabbed it, and pulled it out.
"My, you're a strong girl!" He said.
I keep my hair short now.