Oops, nearly two weeks since I last sat still long enough to type something to go on here. Since the last update, events and activities have included:

• A podcast recorded with Euan helping. It kind of worked, but I doubt he'll be making regular appearances because Other People's Kids are generally boring.
• Nicola passing her driving test, and the subsequent celebratory night out. Fun.
• A trip to the Jolly Jungle and a trip to the swimming baths last weekend. Getting good at this parenting thingy.
• A Goldfrapp concert with Rob & Dan. Not a big fan, but an enjoyable night out.
• A trip to Bangor with work, for a five-hour meeting. I took the minutes. My hand hurt. Then I went dancing with Mum the same evening. My feet hurt. Still a good day though.
• Karl getting run over in Cardiff. As soon as people heard that he wasn't badly hurt, they allowed themselves to snigger, and he has been inundated with emails helpfully outlining the Green Cross Code. Bless.
• A meal at the Squire Yorke, which is somewhat overrun with small noisy people, followed by Euan running around on rope ladders and slides in the Wacky Warehouse. Not as much fun as JJ because adults aren't allowed in. Tired him out nicely though.
• The furry Genghis-style door curtain finally being hung by the back door, hopefully reducing the effect of the freezing draughts.
• A grudgingly-completed application form for promotion. OK, so I haven't even completed it yet. I'm writing this babble as another way to stall for time. I have to do it tonight, because tomorrow is Shrove Tuesday and I'm doing pancakes for people, but I have to give it to my manager by Wednesday morning so she can fill in her bit. The reasons to go for promotion are obvious: more money, more interesting work, I'm doing half the job already so have a headstart on other candidates, I have my manager's full support, it's unlikely there will be many opportunities in the future because HMRC is trying to shrink, the people who would be my colleagues have encouraged me so I know I would feel welcome...
  But.
  I don't want to.
  
  It's sulky and childish and probably quite stupid, but every time I try to fill in the form, I get irritated and type something like, "I don't know or care" in answer to the question before stomping off to make another cuppa. Then I come back, delete it, and stare grumpily at the blinking cursor. I can do forms, I'm good at words and selling myself, but I simply have no motivation or enthusiasm for ther task, and don't really want the job. I don't like telephones, and I would have to make calls as well as taking them. It would matter more if I did things wrong. The general paranoia that sets in at least weekly ("They all hate me and think I'm weird, and they probably think I'm lazy and stupid too") would be compounded. I'm trying to work out how to be a Proper Mummy and getting increasingly panicky about the state of my finances, I really don't want to have to worry about work again, just when I'd got to grips with my current job. And the increase in money wouldn't even be that substantial - as my income increases, my tax credits simply decrease. I'd be marginally better off, and as Mum points out my pension would be better. She's thinking long-term, but so am I. "I can't handle any extra pressure right now" does not mean "I never ever want to do anything other than what I do now." It simply means I am happy in work at the moment, and I know what happens when I overload myself with stress - I get panic attacks. And they're not pleasant. I feel too weak and ill to leave the house. It's not a nice state to be in.

Anyway.

Look how much crap I can type about nothing in particular. I'm going to be sensible and responsible and fill in my form now. Must demonstrate how I "Manage myself effectively", do "Team working" and "Focus on the customer". Ick.

I wonder if my computer's due another crash anytime soon? It's been on for an hour or two so it must be about ready to go crunch and helpfully kill a few more minutes for me.

I know, I haven't done daily updates on my snuffles. I do apologise, I know you must have really been looking forward to reading a load of self-pitying drivel.

Monday I was snuffly, sneezy and achy. Bravely struggled into work though, like the martyr that I am... Tuesday I felt better, but sounded croaky and kept coughing. By Tuesday night I was feeling OK and was convinced it was just a freakish 48-hour bug.

There was a bouquet of flowers waiting for me when I got home. Must have been Valentine's Day or something, maybe? That would explain why Steve came round for a takeaway and a couple of bottles of wine. And handed me a CD compilation he'd made, and a DVD, which we watched - True Romance. Guns, prostitutes, drug dealers, violence, great fun.

In retrospect, maybe the wine was a bad idea, and maybe I wasn't completely better. Because I felt yuck on Wednesday. Dizzy and faint and mildly panicky - it's like I've been collecting different fun symptoms all week. I finished work two hours earlier than I had intended. I grumbled at anyone I saw. I recorded a podcast with John, but wasn't exactly sparkly and fun.

So today I'm off work. I'm living on soup and mooching around the house. The thing is, I never get time at home alone during the day, so it feels like I'm wasting it. I need to sort out the paperwork that's in a big messy heap under the desk, as I'm sure the lower strata have started to compost. I need to sort Euan's room out generally. I need to clear the shed, and my usual excuse is lack of daylight.

I know I should just be sitting around resting, but it feels so lazy! I've allowed myself to do some housework, and now I should really do something quiet like reading. I did try and put the nice new curtain up by the back door, but couldn't drill deep enough, as the lintel stopped me. And it's supposedly a hammer masonry drill.

Luckily, Dan came round, bringing snacks with him, and we watched Sin City. Brilliant film. My brother is one of the few people I know who also talks over the TV, trying to double-guess what happens next. So he didn't mind that I did it all the way through, although he still wouldn't tell me if I was right. He also had a go at fixing my computer. Steve has already stopped it from auto-rebooting when it thinks it's going to crash, which has helped, and Dan decided to get me all the Windows updates I don't bother with.

Steve came round, bringing chips and chocolate cake, which were Andrea's recommendations for a poorly Gem. Yum.

Feel a lot better now. Still felt funny when I stood up for ten minutes to do the washing up though, must be good and get lots of sleep tonight. I have enjoyed having a quiet day though. Listened to Skunk Anansie for the first time in ages. Watched my birdies - the cockatiels are still boring and messy, but the parakeets dance and flap around the cage. I now suspect that the yellow one killed her husband so she could move in with the green one. She didn't hesitate to move cages as soon as I opened the door, she's very cosy with the green one already - they're constantly huddled together, preening and chirping.

Good grief, one day off work and I'm already theorising budgiecide. Must make sure I'm back in the office tomorrow, it keeps me sane(ish).

Fun week. Euan's birthday spilled into the week.

Dad & Cath came up to say hello on Monday night. Last time I spoke to Dad, I was told that it made Catherine "uncomfortable" when I visited them, and she'd rather I didn't. But I was welcome to visit them and talk through the problems. I declined to spend £30 finding out why exactly she hates me.

They turned down my offer to cook for them, and arrived shortly after 6 for dips and wine, which they brought with them. They looked after Euan for me for ten minutes while I popped to the shop, and then had to go - Catherine's family live up the road in Ruthin, and they were going to see them too.

Cried when they'd gone. I had intended to make an effort, and now all I had was a fridgeful of food I'd have to cook and freeze. And a toddler who was hyper-excited and full of Doritos.

It was still only early, so after Euan finally went off to sleep, Steve came round so I could rant for five minutes and hug for a couple of hours. That fixed things.

So Tuesday went OK, Wednesday was fine - except John missed the bus and couldn't get here for the gemcast (argh, name so cheesy it hurts to type it). He phoned me and we recorded one that way. It's quite fuzzy. Ah well, shows dedication, I suppose.

Took Thursday off. Hadn't planned to, it just happened that way.

Went for a meal at the Pant yr Ochain with Steve in the afternoon - a sort of breakfast and lunch in one, so I didn't feel guilty about ordering two courses. Also, Thursday counted as an early Valentine's Day, since I can't get a babysitter for Euan on Tuesday.

Then back to the caravan to play on the X-box. I forget what game. You have to kick and punch people a lot... OK, so that could be the description of any game. Then watched the Shawshank Redemption, which was on the list of films I officially have to watch to make my life complete. Enjoyed it.

Friday: Karl acted like an arse, must get round to telling him what an arse he is. At length. In writing, perhaps. With diagrams. But he's finally gone to Cardiff this weekend, so at least I don't have to see much of him any more. Oh, and one of the yellow parakeets died. But the other one has settled in so instantly with the green parakeet that I don't feel too bad about it. They're all paired up now.

Saturday: went to the Jolly Jungle with Andrea, Aidan and Ethan. I had a fantastic time, and Euan didn't think it was too bad either. It's basically a big warehouse filled with padded climbing stuff, cargo nets, slides, ball pits, stuff to crawl through or swing across... I was in heaven! For £2.50 you get a good couple of hours, and the adults are allowed in with the kids. Euan didn't want to leave. Neither did I, but one of us has to be responsible.

Sunday: went to Blue Planet Aquarium with Mum & Grandma. Euan had been naggy during the night, so I was tired and grumpy, but it was still a good day out. Lots of fish. And frogs, lizards, a bright blue lobster, and a few sharks, swimming inches away from your face in the tunnel. Unfortunately, in Euan's world sharks happen every day (in books and on TV), but a conveyor belt that you can stand on? That's fascinating. So we stared up at the perspex ceiling, and Euan stared at his feet. Does it matter as long as we all enjoyed it?

Think I'm getting a cold now. Will have to do daily Snuffle Updates on gemstuff. Or possibly not.

Made a chocolate cake for Euan on Thursday night, iced it on Friday with orange icing. Also iced a Bob the Builder (by request from Euan) onto greaseproof paper. I'd printed a picture, then taped the greaseproof paper over it and traced the outline in icing. I filled in the gaps using cocktail sticks. Very fiddly, which is why I didn't do it straight onto the cake! Left it to set overnight.

Went round to Steve's, helped with some of the Dream Team transfers. Watched the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. It was a bit scary (as we were sitting in his caravan at the time, and had to walk through the dark garden to the house afterwards), but mainly I just wished the stupid girl would stop screaming.

Euan came home around lunchtime on Saturday - his 3rd birthday!

I was still taking his coat off him as he was tearing into the first of his presents. He got socks, duvet covers, books, paints, and a puzzle thing for a wind-up train to go round from Nicola. That kept him amused for ages.

He spoke to Grandpa on the phone, and we read his new books.

Then he went to sleep for most of the afternoon, whilst I tried to transfer Bob the Builder onto his cake. Unfortunately, Bob wasn't hard enough. (It's a common enough problem...) For Bob, the results were disastrous - he crumpled. Can we fix it? Er... no.

I ended up icing Bob straight onto the cake, which , so I needn't have been so cautious anyway.

Euan woke up and we lit the candles, sang "Happy Birthday", and he blew them out. Seventeen times. I counted the matches afterwards. We sang Penblwydd Hapus and Joyeux Anniversaire too, because I was getting sick of the original.

Ate cake. Spoke to Nana Jan on the phone, then Uncle Dan too.

We spent the rest of the day doing whatever Euan wanted - including playing with the and watching TV. Was a fun day.

Sunday was also spent mooching around the house and tidying up. Euan slept for ages again in the afternoon, only waking up when Steve came round and shared some pizza. Then Euan beat Steve up, or vice versa - it was hard to tell. They definitely both ganged up on me though.

Soon after Steve left, phoned. (He worked at the Revenue for a while, and we meet up every so often for a catch up.) He'd texted on Wednesday because his mum died, which I'd replied to, but I hadn't wanted to phone in case it was a bad time. I'm a chicken, and a crap unsupportive friend. He phoned to ask if he could pop round as he was at a loose end and feeling in need of a shoulder to cry on. I think he needed to get out of the house but didn't know where to go, as he said he'd been walking around for a few hours.

So he came round, we had a bottle of wine, and Euan spent more time jumping around and being noisy. Will asked if he could stop over, which I said wouldn't be a problem - Euan could sleep in my bed, as that's where he ends up 9 times out of 10 anyway. Will seems to be doing OK, but he reckons it hasn't quite sunk in yet. Was a late night, but I think Will needed the company.