23 April

Isolation Update – How fat are his feet?

Well, last night was about as relaxing as a kick in the fanny. We put the Cats film on (it’s so weird), and about half an hour in we had to turn it off because Valentine woke up screaming. I ran faster than I’ve ever run in my life into his room, where he groaned, ‘Mummy, my foot hurts.’ I looked at his foot. Two tiny red dots. I’m no David Attenborough, but I know a spider bite when I see one.

MY BABY!

I called Chris in and we turned the lights up and looked at it. Chris was straight on the iPad googling images of spider bites and yup, that’s absolutely what it was. No swelling, no major redness, but he had woken up because it was sore, so our parenting whistles were tooting (NO idea what that was supposed to mean). I stripped the bed and searched for beasties while Valentine waved his foot in the air. He seemed fine. No fever, so issues, just two red dots. But still … MY BABY.

The problem with googling something like ‘spider bite’ is that you’re faced with sheer horror. Luckily, Valentine’s bite didn’t look like a black widow one, but it was the ‘brown recluse’ I was worried about because I see them a lot in the garden. They are the gnarly cousin of the black widow; not as reclusive as they sound, they love a good chomp on a human foot. I see black widows a lot too, but I presumed we’d have known immediately if he was bitten by one of those. Anyway, Chris showed Valentine the pictures of spiders and Val pointed at the brown recluse and said, ‘That one. That one was on the grass and it bit my foot.’

Super.

I text a friend whose kid got bitten by one last year, and she asked if there was any swelling. I said no, and sent her a picture of Valentine’s foot. She went quiet on text, and I immediately knew why.

‘It’s OK – that’s not swelling, he’s just porky,’ I texted hastily.

‘THANK FUCK, I WAS FUCKING PANICKING,’ she replied.

My sweet baby and his big fat feet.

We did some more searching and saw that most spider bites are nothing more than a bee sting, but we obviously didn’t trust that. I put Valentine in my bed, so he could sleep with me. The plan being, if he seemed in any discomfort at all, I would take him straight to A & E. I also left a message for the doctor on call at his paediatrician, who called me back quickly to say that really, the only spider bites they worry about in LA are the black widows, and if he had been bitten by one of them, I wouldn’t be calling her, I’d have gone to the emergency room hours ago. Cripes.

But still, I wouldn’t let him out of my sight. It was a horrible hour, mostly because the last place we want to go right now is a hospital. Of course, I would have gone, but the idea of adding to what those amazing staff at hospitals are dealing with, or putting Valentine in danger of getting coronavirus and, urgh, no thanks. I am glad I waited for the doc’s return call, because for a second there I was just going to go.

Luckily, all that ended up happening was Valentine and I had a lovely sleepover, and I was awoken gently at 7 a.m. by him stroking my face. It was 100 per cent gorgeous.

It made me think about all the danger that lurks here in California. People go on about Australia being bad, but we have some rotters here too. Black widows, rattlesnakes, mountain lions, coyotes, all sorts. Most of them will never bother us, but it does happen. A friend of mine was bitten by a rattlesnake last year and it was AWFUL. Like, AWFUL. He just made it to hospital before his limbs went numb, I mean JESUS. We take the kids to Ojai a lot (a gorgeous little town a couple of miles out of LA, feels like Italy, apart from the rattlesnakes, bears and mountain lions) and we roam the countryside. I love seeing them frolic, but I am so aware that when they run into long grass there is a significant risk of rattlesnakes, so I do a lot of screaming. In the UK the worst thing that can happen is probably getting stung by a wasp, but here the snakes and spiders are legit. I wish I could be more relaxed about it, but with kids as young as mine, it’s quite scary to think what could happen. But hey, makes no sense to live in fear, so as I go to the supermarket to get food during a pandemic, my kids will continue to run freely outside. I do a lot less screaming in the supermarket.

I’ve had a MUCH better day. I think sometimes you just need to be sad, don’t you? I got a lot out with my big ugly crying yesterday, and today the weight on my shoulders had lifted. We had corned beef and mustard sandwiches for lunch, and all is well in the world.

Ooo, apparently there was quite a strong earthquake at around midnight last night, that woke loads of people up. Not me and Valentine though, which is weird. Isn’t that exciting, and just what we need, a fucking earthquake? Hopefully it was just Mother Earth reminding us that today is her big day. READ THE ROOM, EARTH.

Happy Earth Day to you all. What a ride the human experience on this amazing planet is. Aren’t we lucky to be a part of it?

Oh, stepping away from Mother Earth to her cruel digital sister, I hate Zoom conference calls. Work ones or friendly ones. I find them all awkward. Maybe I am just not doing enough, and I would get used to it if I got more involved. I do miss people. Maybe my next week resolution will be to do more socialising on my computer. Hmmm, maybe not.

Chris just handed me a gin and tonic. It’s 4.10 p.m. Isn’t he marvellous?

I didn’t eat weed today and have eaten substantially less crap. The munchies are no joke. I’m not one for weighing myself, but I do try to keep my weight around 140lbs. I can get into all my favourite clothes if I am there. It is an achievable weight for me that means I can generally eat what I want if I do moderate amounts of exercise.

Guys, I accidentally weighed myself this morning and I was 148lbs. I was quite stunned. I had wondered why nothing fits. How did that happen? I guess after Caroline died, I just stopped working out and comfort ate. Then isolation started and since then I have done NOTHING but eat, and the small amount of exercise I do just isn’t enough. I mean, it’s fine, I have nowhere to go, but I don’t like it when my favourite clothes don’t fit me, because they make me happy. So, I am going to try to pull back a little. To start, I’ll lose the crisps. Today I just had hummus and crackers as an afternoon snack, which tasted like feet in comparison to Kettle Chips, but I know it was a lot healthier.

That’s about the only sacrifice I’m willing to make though; I need the wine and the gummies every now and again, and my big dinners bring me so much joy. I will also step up on the movement. Twenty minutes a day of exercise, even if it’s just a dog walk. That’s what I will aim for. When I start to see results, I’ll roll the crisps back in. THAT, my friends, is a plan!

I’m cooking tacos tonight. Chris hates fish, so spicy fish tacos is my best bet for getting him to eat any. I really go for it with my sides. Let me talk you through it, because if you’ve never made tacos, it’s a really fun dinner to have once a week. This is how I do it.

Buy a sachet of taco seasoning, either mild or spicy, depending on what you like. Fry either beef mince, chopped chicken thigh, vegetables or fish (I use tilapia), and add the seasoning. Have a reasonable amount of oil it in, it tastes yum.

Serve with small, soft and round corn or flour tortillas

Do any of these sides …

Cherry tomatoes, chopped small with spring onion, salt and pepper and lime juice. (I use a real lime for this and save the sacred lime juice in the bottle for my drinks)

Grated cheese

Black beans (warmed up)

Hot salsa

Mild salsa (verde)

Chopped cabbage

Chopped onion

Sour cream

Guacamole (or just simple smashed avocado)

Sweetcorn

Hot sauce

Those are my regular toppings, I do them all in little bowls and we make taco after taco as we watch TV. HEAVEN. Try it, you WILL deffo get laid if you make this for a lover.

SENDING LOVE,

Dawn x

PS I have a wine delivery coming in a minute and I am SO excited.

24 April

Isolation Update – I wasn’t quite sure how I would get across the room

As I was bathing the kids tonight, I lifted my dress to look at my body in the mirror. A nasty thing to do to myself, since I’d taken on the task of eating nineteen meals a day since isolation began, but there we are. As I gawped disapprovingly at my belly, Art said, ‘Mummy, are you pregnant?’

You know what? It’s your fault I can’t get a six-pack and my boobs swing around my back. Brush your teeth and bog off!

Who asked him anyway?

I think I told you that yesterday I didn’t have a weed gummy. This was purely to avoid the munchies. I ate constantly anyway, but it was absolutely less than when under the mild influence of weed. But after dinner, when the kids were down, I felt a bit tetchy so thought I’d try one of my Indica gummies. I think it’s important at this stage to admit that I know lockdown has turned me into someone who drinks too much with a daily need for marijuana edibles. This is what happens when you suddenly find yourself a full-time stay-at-home mum suffering from crippling grief, while a deadly virus lurks on everything from the pavements to the vegetables in the local supermarket. I need to do what I need to do to cope with the stress of it all. It’s as simple as that.

If you don’t know much about marijuana, there are basically two types: CBD and THC. CBD is lovely, but it doesn’t make you high. It works only on your body, so it’s great for pain and anxiety and sleep. I take it a lot, and it’s relaxing. Kinda like an Epsom salt bath feeling with, like I said, no effect at all on your head. It’s available in the UK and Ireland so you may have tried it. It’s not really a drug, and it’s finally being treated that way and being enjoyed for its many benefits. It eases PMT and is great for older people who ache (and moan). I may have sent some to my dad. HI, DADDY, LOVE YOU.

Then there is THC, and this is what gets you spangled. There are two types, Sativa and Indica. Sativa is what I usually take. It gets you high, lifts you up, and totally distracts you from your children. The gummies are strong, so I have a tiny nibble. I’m never looking to be off my head when I’m around my kids, all I’m aiming for is for a slight buzz to numb the agony of having to look after them.

Indica is different, it goes to your mind, but it really works on your body. People take it to chill them out. It’s not a party drug really, as it makes you quite lethargic. I’ve not really taken it … until last night.

You see, when Caroline died, I went to Med Men, the Apple Store of weed shops. Most of the staff are millennials with the occasional older dude who has probably been smoking weed since he was six and thinks prissy girls like me who spend $30 on some candy are a betrayal to his drug. They all wear matching Med Men Ts and have technology attached to them so they can process your order anywhere in the shop. You show your ID to get in, they scan it, and then you’re basically in Willy Wonka’s sugar palace and everything tastes like heaven and will leave you high as a kite. I feel like such a dork every time I go, and often drop some consonants and speak in my most lackadaisical voice to seem like less of a mum of two and more of a bro. They see right through me, of course. It will never seem right to be sold weed by someone who is calling you ‘madam’. Anyway, I wanted whatever would make it remotely easier to calm down, sleep, stop hurting so much, and get through a hard time. I was recommended Indica. But I never took it, because actually I discovered that trying to cope while feeling normal was the best option. But time has now passed, and I’ve changed my mind.

Last night, after dinner, I ate half an Indica gummy. Halfway through dinner my arms, legs and head turned into lead and I wasn’t entirely sure how I was going to get across the room again. It wasn’t scary, but I wasn’t expecting it to be so strong. I went to bed because, as Chris said, ‘Don’t waste it’ and I lay down and was asleep within minutes. I didn’t wake up at all until 6.15 a.m., which is very unusual for me. It was nice. I didn’t like how incapable I was when I was awake, mainly because I quite like being able to use my own arms, but that sleep … my goodness. I’ll only have a tiny bit if I take it again, hopefully finding the perfect amount to be able to walk, but also sleep that deeply. I’ve felt amazing all day. Weed became legal here to help people with conditions like anxiety and stress. Well, that is what you suffer from when you lose a friend the way I just did, so I think I am maybe the perfect candidate for it right now. This isn’t a version of weed I would usually take, it’s too strong for me. But my God, that sleep. Even so, this is NOT an advert for weed, kids. It’s strong stuff, don’t fuck about with it.

All day I kept thinking WHY isn’t it Friday yet, and then I’d realise it wouldn’t make any difference even if it was.

I did a Peloton (because my kid fat-shamed me) and I didn’t eat crisps or start drinking until five. Did I win today?

I bribed the kids with gummies (NOT marijuana ones) at 8.30 a.m. so they would let me put sunscreen on them, and it worked a treat. I’d ordered some new swimsuits for them which arrived today. They are full-body zip-up rash guards and they have totally saved the day. I got them blue and pink ones, and they loved them and wore them all day. So hopefully that is that problem solved. I only need to get the sunscreen on their cheeks now. Which, annoyingly, is the bit they hate the most.

Jesus, did I just write an entire paragraph about putting sunscreen on my kids? Is that the kind of content you’re here for? RIVETING STUFF. Let’s blame the weed, I’m still dreaming of that sleep.

Wouldn’t it be fun if the government just admitted there was nothing we could do about Covid, and gave everyone in the world free weed gummies so we could basically be at Glastonbury for all eternity?

I should be president. Everything would be so much easier.

Sending you all my love,

Dawn x