I’m slowly coming back to life
Plus some thoughts on alcohol and some reading recommendations
Dear Jasper,
It’s been more than 15 months since you were born and all the cliches are true: you changed my life, it’s been amazing and difficult and amongst it all I lost myself. Not in a way I resent. Although I will say I’m glad I had you at the age I did (35) because I wouldn’t have wanted to miss the 25-35 era, which I spent being outlandishly single, selfish and reckless.
Since you came along, though, I haven’t been doing most of the things that I used to make me me. Namely lots of writing, travelling, drinking alcohol and playing with animals. My body has been worn out (from the caesarean, constant breastfeeding and lack of sleep) and so has my mind (mothers are, for evolutionary reasons, obsessive and anxious). It didn’t help that we’ve had to move countries twice during your first year.
But for the first time, over the past few weeks, I’ve been feeling more like myself again. As if I’m just waking up from a particularly strange and gruelling dream. My eyes are focusing. I’m re-recognising all the furniture in my bedroom, so to speak.
A big part of this is no doubt thanks to our nanny, Antoinette, who I fully trust to take care of you between the hours of 9.30am-1.30pm every weekday. This allows me to work again. I am extremely lucky to have a job I genuinely like, and actually missed doing. I’m still playing catch up and will be for ages. But then I was always doing that, even before you were born. I genuinely don’t know what the inside of my head would look like without at least three overdue work assignments tap tap tapping away like woodpeckers.
I’ve been reading books again, which gladdens my heart. I have already recommended Lessons in Chemistry in this newsletter, which was a true delight, but I’ve also recently read Lullaby by Leila Slimani because I am a maniac. It’s about a Parisian couple with two small kids who hire what appears to be the perfect nanny, but who in fact ends up murdering the children. It begins at the end, so opens with the immediate aftermath of the crime, and then traces backwards to examine the lead-up. It’s very elegant, gripping and sharp; full of intelligent observations without ever being pretentious (a rare feat) and you’ll probably read it within a matter of days.
Why, though, would I choose to read a novel on this topic, having just hired a seemingly perfect nanny myself? Your guess is as good as mine - I told you, I’m a lunatic.
The book I am currently reading is by my favourite writer, Esther Walker, who I think should be a lot more famous. I’ve loved her words ever since I discovered them in my early 20s via her husband Giles Coren, who is another one of my favourites. Back then, I was working in advertising (which I loathed) and I all I wanted was to be a journalist. I had no qualifications, or way in, so it wasn’t looking promising. But one night I emailed Esther to ask her advice, knowing full well of course that she would never reply. And she did! It was a really kind, helpful, encouraging letter that I printed off and put in a frame on my desk and I reckon it genuinely helped me in my mission, which was ultimately successful in that I am now a journalist. Anyway, the book of hers that I’m reading is called The Bad Mother, which is sort of a parenting memoir-slash-guide, and it is so wise and funny and endorphin-producing that I’m pissed off every time I finish another page because it takes me one step closer to the last one, and then what I’m am I supposed to do, because there’s no sequel?
In other news, we’ve rescued a dog, which has corrected an imbalance that always occurs in me when there are only humans in my vicinity. His name is Shadow, (‘Ombrage’ in French) and his former owner left the country, abandoned him on the streets and sold her car. Shadow had been out there for months, following the vehicle. Unacceptable, I thought, and thank goodness Julius goes along with these things and helped me find him and get him home. Shadow started off sad and shy. For the first week or so, he wouldn’t move from his hiding spot in the corner outside. But he’s gaining more and more trust in us as the days go on (even though we had his balls lopped off). As I type this, he is lying on the floor near my feet.
We’ve even done a bit of travelling, and stayed in a selection of fancy hotels here in Mauritius for a feature I just finished for The Telegraph. I won’t lie, travelling with a toddler is mostly shit and I don’t like it. But it will get better, I reckon, as you get older (Esther says it does).
What I haven’t been doing is drinking alcohol, most of the time. I said I’d give up for a year last December and so did Julius (parenting a tiny human is hard enough without a hangover) but I have fallen off the wagon a few times. The first time was in Mallorca, because I was having dinner with Richard Branson and a gaggle of other journalists and frankly, I did not want to do that much socialising sober. I also had some the other week when I went to meet a friend of a friend who is also an expat here, with the general goal being that we become Expat Friends. He is very English and drinks Very Good Wine, and that was too powerful an itch not to scratch, plus, again, I find socialising too scary without a bit of conversational lubrication. Julius has stayed completely dry and I don’t know whether he will start drinking again when the year is up. My plan is to see if I can be a social drinker, but not have wine at home or drink by myself (because when it comes to that I have a high tolerance and no restraint).
I’m going to leave it there because according to this new app I have that is possibly CHANGING MY LIFE, I have to move on to the next task today. The app is called Structured, and is designed for people with ADHD but is good for anyone who is easily overwhelmed and chronically disorganised. I’ve tried lots of apps like that and none of them worked. This one does!
All my love,
Annabel
P.S.
In the news this week: Rishi Sunak fired Home Secretary Suella Braverman for veering too far into the right wing lane and replaced her with former Prime Minister David Cameron (cray cray!); the war rages on between Israel and Hamas (it’s a demented mess in a way that all wars are, but this one is creating an unusual amount of noise in the West, which is good, I think?); and it looks like a gigantic volcano is going to erupt in Iceland (bit disappointed we will miss this - I do love a weather calamity).
Fun fact of the day: Ants are the only species on Earth (aside from humans) to administer medicine to one another. When they go into battle and an ant loses a limb or something, its fellow ant comrades carry it back to the nest and then diagnose and fix the injuries, using glorified antibiotics they produce and apply! How amazing is that? We learnt this from Netflix’s Life on Our Planet, which is one of the very few nature documentaries I can watch because it doesn’t show sad bits.
Highlight of the week: I had a meeting with a fashion producer who is going to help me become a millionaire with my jumpsuit/onesie idea, so that is finally moving along in the right direction.
Low of the week: I absolutely lost my shit at 5.30am-ish the other morning when I’d had a bad night with you, Jasper, and it was your father’s turn to take him so I could sleep a few hours, but he was working out on the roof and asked me to wait ‘another ten minutes’ and also he hadn’t put the dishwasher on overnight even though I’d asked him to. Tiny crimes that turned me into a screeching witch. None of us yet recovered, to be honest.