I have no plans today, other than to look after the lovely girls, wait in for the estate agent to come and collect the house keys from us and then meet Ed at work later, so we can go to the house. We are going to sign all the tenancy paperwork. We are pretty excited about this, as it makes our move finally seem like a reality. After many false starts, like our initial moving in date of June 1st, I am pleased ‘real’ moving day is actually upon us. Yes, not excited, just pleased. Excited came and went about 2-3 weeks ago.

I am feeling fine about not eating processed food, and am being optimistic about the impact this could have on my overall health and my life. I have eaten a large omelette and lardons for a late breakfast and had a grapefruit for lunch, still full from my morning big protein-fest. I like the feeling that I may be gaining some control over what I am putting in my body to nourish it and am not too worried that the fridge is looking decidedly bare of ‘good’ foods and in need of sorting out.

Nina has 2 epic naps today – overall sleeping for four hours. Now, I’m not one to monitor sleeping or plan nap times, so this doesn’t really disrupt my day. Tyla has her iPod Touch back after a two day ban, so I’m happy to let her play on it for a while.

During the second nap, I am still in my bra and pants. I am on the computer with my clean clothes next to me, ready to be ironed and thrown on at some point during the nap and before the estate agent arrives at 2pm. She’s 40 minutes early. Normally this would fill me with joy. Punctuality is not a known French trait and I always expect tardiness; in fact I’m partial to not being on time myself. This serves me well most of the time, because if I am on time and they are late, I am not disappointed. Also, if I am late, they are generally later than me. Conversely if someone is on time, when I am also on time, I am pleasantly surprised. If they are early and I am late, well, I imagine it is fairly annoying for them, but I try not to let it get me down.

I buzz her into the foyer and throw on my wrinkled clothes, grab the keys and run down to see her. I hand them over and that’s task one out of the way. This is my cue to get off my backside and get everything ready before the wee one awakes.

Later on we get ourselves ready to meet Ed at work and head off to the tram. Nina is always a little pickle on the tram, so we have learnt to station ourselves at the very back, where there are usually two free seats, park the buggy by the non-opening doors, and let Nina ‘sit’ with us. This involves her climbing over everything, but also charming the pants off all the tram passengers. She waves at them and gives them her radiant toothy grin. She dances to the sound of the tram and any other repetitive noises around, which serves to remind us, there is beauty in everything.

We meet Ed at work and drive to the house. Once there, we wait for the (late) estate agent and admire the new letterbox that has been installed outside and the fact that the driveway has been levelled (although not finished) making the house look like less of a building site. She arrives and we go in. There is still work to be done, but the kitchen has been (mostly) installed and the garden has also been levelled with soil (er, looks like dust to me, but we have it on good authority that it is soil). The paintwork is not perfect and we know that the landlords have struggled to get it done, so we have long accepted that the finish will be less than perfect.

We are there for over two hours; the landlords turn up, as do the builders and it is a long drawn out free for all. Meanwhile I have a cranky baby and I am not much better; I am also distinctly aware that I did not pack enough food for one person, let alone enough to sustain this family for this long over dinnertime. I feel we are heading for a disastrous solution and as we near 8 pm, Ed says the magic words, “Take away pizza?”. I am pretty down, but am trying to work with my life, not against it, so I agree.

We finally get home with pizzas, at about 8:45. I enjoy the food, have a beer for good measure and try not to beat myself up about it. After all, I knew starting under these conditions was not the perfect recipe for success. Ed tells me he has my Whole 30 book at work and I look forward to starting properly tomorrow. A shopping trip to put some good food in the fridge; some proper guidance in the shape of Dallas and Melissa Hartwig’s It Starts with Food book; the prospect of being in my new house in just over a week; all postive, so I say goodbye to Day 2 and with renewed hope, I look forward to tomorrow – Day 1.

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