30 Nov 2023
Some Thoughts On Sleep Deprivation
“Sleep whilst you can!” people joke when you’re pregnant, and you smile or roll your eyes or nod politely. We all know it’s a pointless thing to say (unless someone invents the ability to bank sleep hours) but say it we do, because it’s a way of acknowledging those famous newborn days of broken sleep, vomit-covered shoulders and that beautiful, beautiful baby smell. There aren’t any jokes about being severely sleep deprived for a year and a half though. Believe me, I’ve tried to make them. You just come across as a hysterical zombie and it kinda kills the punch line when instead of laughing, someone gives you a sympathetic head tilt and ask if you’re okay.
The honest answer to that would be no. Sleep deprivation made me clumsy, angry, teary, snappy, unreasonable, riddled with anxiety… generally emotionally unstable. It made me incapable of making basic decisions (true story: I once cried because I couldn’t decide what pizza to order. There was literally a choice of four pizzas. It was embarrassing… or it would have been, but I was too tired to care.), it made me feel like I was moving through fog, it completely screwed with my memory, and it made me find the world an overwhelming and, sometimes, dark place. Ultimately, I think it made me a little bit depressed.
I don’t use the word lightly. Perhaps it’s not the correct word to use but it’s the best one I can think of to describe the experience. The only plus side of being that sleep deprived for that long is when we finally started to get a more humane amount of sleep again, there was such joy in remembering how lovely life could be. Even now, I get an extraordinary amount of joy over such little things because I remember how lovely they are and how, for so long, I simply did not have the energy to appreciate them.
Something that often baffled me was the way that quite a lot of people seemed to believe that they could solve the problem. That if you just tried a new thing, tried a little harder, the baby would sleep twelve hours in their cot no problem. Like you were causing the problem by not implementing a solid routine/sleep training them/ ‘still’ breastfeeding etc etc all the while ignoring the basic fact that babies are not puppies to be trained. People would make these suggestions like you hadn’t already spent what likely amounted to months of your life googling solutions, hadn’t already tried every damn thing you could in hope of gaining just a fraction more sleep, like they were going to impart their well-meaning-but-repetitive advice and you were going to jump up and go GOLLY GOSH BRENDA, YOU’RE A GENIUS. (Yes, it is, quite frankly, a miracle that I didn’t accidentally ruin a relationship with someone by being a sarcastic bitch which is the mode I had to resist slipping into when someone was trying to give me unsolicited advice on three hours sleep.)
It goes without saying that obviously the first 18 months of my son’s life were not miserable. There were many, many joyous moments and he was – and still is – the biggest bundle of joy and – obviously – entirely worth it. But good lord, the lack of sleep as a result of him simply following his little baby instincts was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. It impacts every single aspect of your life, from your relationships to your health to your ability to order from a basic menu. Perhaps the hardest thing is the impact on your ability to parent at your best, to enjoy moments that will never come back, and you envy the experiences of those who had better sleepers and got to enjoy the baby stage a lot more. I also underestimated how long it would take to recover. Okay, I can now order from a menu fine, but it turns out that everything else doesn’t just click back into place once you’ve finally slept through the night again. I still feel like we are in a recovery period, and I’ve accepted that it’s going to take a lot of patience. I’ve also accepted it might be a long time before I am no longer living with The Fear. Because once you escape that dark fog of sleep deprivation, the prospect of going back into it is genuinely very scary. I have to try and rationalise one bad night, have to remind myself that the ‘bad nights’ now were the ‘good nights’ last year, have to try and not spiral down a rabbit hole where I allow the experience to influence bigger decisions like whether or not to try for a second baby.
I have broadly come to the conclusion that Alfie and sleep is one of those things that will become a family joke in years to come. We’ll joke that he always had a ridiculous amount of energy, that he always thought sleep was overrated. He is nearly two and still does not consistently sleep through the night; we never know if we’re going to be able to get him to nap and I long for the day when our evenings are not consumed by trying to get Alfie to go to sleep promptly (if it’s taken less than an hour and he’s asleep by 8pm, we consider that a good day). But he is a lot better than he was. There have now been a few nights where he has slept from bedtime through until 5-6am and I still enjoy that sensation of waking up, seeing the time and realising I’ve actually had a full night’s sleep. It’s still a novelty and very much not guaranteed. I’m not entirely convinced it’s actually reasonable to expect young children to always sleep through the night; I more than understand the desire but I think young children simply are just following their instinct and I do try very hard to not refer to him as a ‘bad’ sleeper (okay, I fail at this quite a lot when I’m tired but seriously, he’s not even two. It’s not like the kid is doing it on purpose).
After nearly two years, my standards on sleep have dropped considerably. I have long given up on the idea of my child sleeping 7pm-7am. For me, it’s what can we cope with, what can we live on and not simply survive on. I’ve learnt a solid four hour chunk is better than seven broken hours, that having some semblance of a childfree-evening is important for my sanity, that equally splitting the early mornings and bedtimes between the two of you enables you both to have pockets of time to yourselves, and that co-sleeping can be life-saving even if it does often feel like sharing a bed with an octopus trained in boxing.
If you’re right in the trenches of sleep deprivation right now, there is not much I can say to help. You’ll be sick of hearing that it gets better (WHEN EXACTLY, you internally screech) but it does, I promise. Keep going.
23 Nov 2023
Lunch & Views @ The Sky Garden, London
The last time I was up at the Sky Garden, it was the same day we had a phone call telling us we had got our flat in St Albans and, wow, doesn’t that feel like a lifetime ago?
I was meeting my family in London (between Sheffield, Cambridgeshire and West London, this was actually the most convenient spot for everyone), and my Dad & Elizabeth very generously offered to treat my sister and I to lunch in one of the restaurants in the Sky Garden. Well, it would have been rude to say no right?
The Sky Garden hasn’t remotely changed since Gary and I visited seven years ago and I was struck by a similar thought again seven years later: ‘garden’ is pushing it a bit. As Elizabeth said, ‘greenery would be more accurate’. But it’s – despite the name – not really about the garden. It’s about the views. And, boy, are they good.
But first: lunch. We dined at Darwin Brasserie with a rather excellent view of St Paul’s and the London Eye. I’ll be honest, for the price you pay, they could do with trying to squeeze less people in there; I can be infringingly close to other members of the public in Pizza Express without the high price tag thank you very much. But that’s my only gripe because the food was delicious, and the company excellent.
Elizabeth and I shared a carafe of wine which turned out to be an excellent move because it was a) really good wine, and b) about the same price as one glass and we both got two glasses out of it. I started with the grilled goat’s cheese with figs, sunflower seeds and pomegranate dressing, inhaled a really good roast beef dinner for main and rounded it all up with a dark chocolate and coffee brownie with coffee cream, which just melted in the mouth. It was all very, very good.
We emerged out to the refreshingly cool air outside the restaurant and proceeded to take in the views from every angle. I just find being that high fascinating; it’s like looking at a live map with all the trains and people appearing as toy models. The best view is probably the one from the outdoor terrace because The Shard is right in front of you but, to be fair, whatever side you’re looking out of, they are great. On a clear day, you can see for miles across London, and I loved playing spot-the-landmark (okay and nosing at people’s roof terraces).
Once we were viewed-out, we got our feet back on the ground and went for a walk along the Thames. The Autumn air was just starting to bite, the sun was already low in the sky and London was being all hey look how cute I am. A chai latte found its way into my hands somehow (so annoying what that happens huh?) and we took to the side streets to take a slow wander towards the stations. We marvelled at the way ridiculously old pubs could be inexplicably squashed in between towering skyscrapers. We saw the Halloween decorations around the Tower of London, the cheese grater building, the gherkin… I mean, we’ve seen all these many times before but I’m not sure they ever really get old you know?
Short and sweet but we were all home at reasonable times with a full cup, and that is the kind of day out I am here for these days.
4 Nov 2023
Baking Diaries: Salty, Lemon Shortbread As The Seasons Change
This post first appeared on Messy Notebook, Messy Kitchen. Please do come join and subscribe for monthly short stories and cosy food writing.
It is imperative that I tell you about these salty lemon shortbreads. I sort of want to virtually push them into your hands and tell you to eat them now. Late summer/early Autumn saw us falling into a routine of heading out promptly on a Saturday morning to eat sticky cinnamon buns at our favourite bakery. It’s messy regardless of whether you’re a toddler or adult but everyone is happy with the situation. On one such Saturday, we were wandering around the market afterwards when I saw these lemons that looked really, well, lemony. Like vibrant yellow, enticingly yellow. What is it about buying fruit and veg from a market stall (handed to you in a brown paper bag that crinkles comfortingly in your hands as you walk home) and being used straight away in the kitchen, that makes you feel wholesome? Like you’re the kind of person who peruses market stalls in a floaty dress with a large basket in the crook of your arm filled with the yellowest lemons, reddest tomatoes, freshly baked bread…. I am not that person obviously. But these lemons gave me that vibe. I used them to make this shortbread. The smell when I zested them and combined in a bowl with sugar until the sugar was yellow too was unreal. Perfect for late summer, just as that warm air starts to fade. I would like that smell in a candle please and thank you. The zesty sugar goes on top of these lemon shortbreads and forms this gorgeous crunchy, caramelised topping that goes so well with the extra salt. Honestly, they were so good. Please do go make them.
Elsewhere in the kitchen, I have made my own granola for the first time which is ridiculously easy, and I have no idea why I’ve never done it before. It was nut-heavy with a subtle level of orange zest; now that’s another smell I would quite happily have in a candle. Is there a business somewhere making candles that smell like various baked goods? There must be. If you’re in the know, please tell me. Also, on the subject of breakfast, I made some blueberry, lemon & oat muffins for the little person in our life. I was trying to offer him alternatives for breakfast, but he remains unconvinced that he should not just have peanut butter every damn day. It’s really quite hard to argue with him when I have peanut butter for breakfast every damn day. Still, they were nice muffins. Find the granola recipe here and the muffins here.
There has also been focaccia – my second attempt – and this one was exactly the kind of focaccia I was imagining in my head; crunchy, pillowy, salty, a generous helping of rosemary to finish it all off. It was an overnight recipe which I’m never that big a fan off (I’m impatient and hungry), but I think it was worth the wait. Find the recipe on the Waitrose website here.
We had our neighbours round for tea and cake – okay, gin and cake – just before the summer petered out. It felt like a Victoria sponge moment. I went with the brown sugar Victoria sponge from Love is a pink cake by Claire Ptak. It was subtle but I think more flavoursome than white sugar. The thing that struck me most though was the super-quick jam element. Mashed fruit, sugar pre-heated in the oven, a little simmering and boom, jam. I’m here for that level of efficiency.
Autumn has crept in, and I can’t help but associate it with baking. Partly because Bake Off is back on our screens but also partly because the entire season just lends itself to baking in a way summer never could. The smell (seriously, candle) and warmth of bread baking in the oven can never not make you feel wholesome and cosy as the golden leaves waft about in the blustery winds and the rain patters against the window. My local bookshop hosted Jürgen Krauss to talk about his new book German Baking and sitting in a church eating cake and listening to people discuss different types of flour felt like great way to kick off this baking-themed season. I bought a copy of his book with the discount from my ticket, and I cannot tell you how autumnal it feels, from the colours to the Christmas chapter. It’s going to be the perfect book to bake from over the next few months, particularly as I want to try more bread recipes. The first recipe I tried was the chocolate babka and whilst my braiding presentation needs some work, the chocolate swirls in the bread and the taste of orange, cinnamon & cloves was delicious.
To accompany the first episode of Bake Off though, it was the classic banana bread, mostly because I had two black bananas sat in the fruit bowl. This is my go-to recipe and it never lets me down.
Baking browsing:
Oh my how decadent does this chocolate mousse cake look? Anyone have a special occasion they would like me to make this for, because I can’t justify baking this just for two people. Or any of my friends want to come round for a cake eating party?
I spotted this rice pudding with maple apples recipe on one of the Waitrose recipe cards and it came home with me simply because anything with the word ‘maple’ in just sounds autumny. Plus, I am a sucker for rice pudding.
Jürgen’s book has a recipe for stollen which I have never made before. It needs to be made a few weeks in advance of Christmas so I’m setting myself a reminder in November to give it a go.
See you in the kitchen again soon x
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