by Suzy K Quinn
Sadie shouted, ‘I told my agent that was CONFIDENTIAL!’
Got the tube across London and ran to the apartment like a crazy person.
Somewhere on the way home, the rubber band on my jeans snapped.
Helen opened her front door to find a frizzy-haired, red-faced maniac with her jeans undone.
I knew I looked bad, because Helen said, ‘Christ almighty!’
Poor little Daisy was on her shoulder, totally red in the face, screaming her head off.
Daisy reached out her arms when she saw me and fell straight to sleep on my shoulder.
‘If you had a routine, this wouldn’t have happened,’ Helen said.
‘Go fuck yourself, Helen,’ I replied.
Then I started crying. I don’t know why.
Sunday, January 31st
Got a massive telling-off from Nick about being rude to his mother.
He’s such a hypocrite! He talks to her like the hired help.
I tried to explain what happened, but he wasn’t having any of it. Just went on about how lucky we are and how grateful we should be for everything his mum does for us.
I blew my top.
I shouted that I wanted a place of our own. That we shouldn’t be relying on his mum like we do.
And then it was same old, same old. Any day now. My break is coming. It’s SO hard being an actor. Blah blah blah.
While we were rowing, Alex turned up to go running.
Nick said, ‘Oh that’s very mature Juliette. You’re quite literally running off with another man, while we’re trying to have an adult discussion.’
But frankly, I wanted to get out of that apartment and be around someone who wasn’t an actor and didn’t turn everything into one huge drama.
I think Alex sensed something was up, because he said, ‘Bad day?’
I admitted Nick and I had been arguing.
He asked me if I had pre-wedding nerves.
I told him no – I’m looking forward to getting married. It will be a clean slate and a new beginning.
‘What a romantic sentiment,’ said Alex. ‘And here was I thinking you get married because you love someone.’
‘I do love Nick,’ I insisted.
‘I know that,’ said Alex. ‘I’ve just never had a clue why.’
Monday, February 1st
Pretty sure Daisy is teething.
It’s early, but she’s showing all the signs.
She keeps dribbling and smashing her head against things.
The book says this goes on for months. Months?
Mum says not to worry because when the tooth comes through another problem will take its place.
She made a big long list of all the problems I had to come:
Separation anxiety
Night terrors
Molars (then I’ll wish it was the little teeth again)
Opening cupboards
Climbing stairs
Pulling nappies off and throwing them across the room
She added, ‘And it doesn’t necessarily stop when they’re grown up. They could be like Brandi and have a baby at sixteen. Then you’re stuck with them forever.’
Tuesday, February 2nd
I am an AMAZING mum! Daisy slept ALL night last night.
ALL NIGHT!
And I jogged TWO miles today! Two whole miles without stopping. For the first time, I actually have hope that I might be able to finish the marathon.
Of course, when I phoned Sadie she said, ‘It’s easier to train now the weather’s warmer. The real marathon will be freezing. You’ve got a long way to go.’
I said it would be easier if my so-called running partner actually showed up.
‘Look, you know me,’ said Sadie. ‘I’m terrible with time.’
If she’s terrible with time, how come she’s never early?
Wednesday, February 3rd
Fucking hell.
Daisy woke up FIVE TIMES last night.
So tired I’ve lost two cups of coffee today.
Found one in the bathroom, but where’s the other one?
I’ve never loved anything as much as Daisy. She is the best thing I have ever seen, heard, touched or smelt. But sometimes – especially at night-time – I want to kill her.
I used to judge those mums who scream at their kids in supermarkets. But now I don’t. Because they’re only saying what I think in my head sometimes.
Couldn’t be bothered to go for a run today. There’s no way I’ll finish this marathon.
Just no way.
Thursday, February 4th
Oh my God, I am totally fed up. Daisy woke up at 2 am, 4 am, and 5.30 am – at which point she cried until 7 am.
I mean, it’s not like I’d give Daisy back or anything. I am totally in love with her. But when does it end? It’s so gruelling. Every night, not knowing if she’s going to sleep or not. And not being able to stop the crying. And not knowing WHY she’s crying.
What am I doing wrong? WHY WON’T SHE SLEEP!!!
Ate a jumbo bar of Cadbury’s Whole Nut chocolate for lunch. Didn’t mean to, but it was half-price at the bookshop.
I went in to buy The Big Book of Baby Sleep, and they’d put giant bars of chocolate by the cash registers. It’s like they know sleep-deprived mums go in there.
Friday, February 5th
Bought more sleep books today. Apparently, a baby Daisy’s age (four months) should be sleeping all night without waking.
Well it’s alright to SAY that, isn’t it? But how do you make them do it? I mean, what if offering cooled boiled water doesn’t work at 3 am?
Feel very alone today.
I’m a mother. I’m supposed to be the one who fixes things.
But I don’t know what I’m doing.
Alex called round for training, but I couldn’t face it.
I was way too tired.
He came down hard on me, saying I mustn’t give up and that difficulty is part of every victory.
I know he’s right, but I just don’t care about victory right now. Survival will do me just fine.
Saturday, February 6th
7 pm
Daisy has a fever!
I am so worried.
Can’t get hold of Nick, and there’s no way I can bother Mum tonight. She has her Mamma Mia thing.
Dad’s running the pub, Brandi has Callum and Laura has classroom training tomorrow.
I am totally alone and terrified.
Why does Nick never answer his phone when I need him?
Called NHS direct, and they told me to ‘keep an eye on her’. As if I’d do anything else! My eyes are glued to her.
8 pm
Daisy’s temperature is even higher! I can’t take her to accident and emergency on a Saturday night – it will be full of shouting drunk people.
Will try NHS direct again.
8.30 pm
NHS direct refused to send a doctor. They said it wasn’t serious until Daisy’s temperature goes over 100 Fahrenheit.
Not serious? She is boiling hot!
9 pm
Mum just phoned from the theatre. She had a ‘sixth sense’ that something was wrong.
Told her I was fine. Then burst into tears and admitted Daisy was ill.
Mum said she’d get a taxi straight over, but I told her not to ruin her night.
Nick will be home soon.
9.30 pm
Mum just turned up in platform boots and a feather boa, holding a bottle of baby fever medicine. It was so nice to see her that I cried.
I said, ‘What about your night out?’
‘Abba can wait,’ Mum boomed. ‘My little girl needs me.’
10.30 pm
Thank god!
Daisy’s temperature is back to normal. Mum’s insisting on staying until Nick gets home.
12 am
Nick just got back. He found me, Mum and Daisy asleep on the sofa.
He’s going to stay up all night now and take Daisy’s temperature every hour. Just in cas
e.
Sunday, February 7th
Daisy’s fine today.
Nick and I took her to the emergency doctor anyway, just in case. We had to wait with a load of nervous-looking teenage girls, all wanting the morning-after pill.
Felt quite angry with them for wasting precious NHS time.
Nick reminded me I’d taken three morning-after pills in the early days of our relationship.
I shut up then.
Monday, February 8th
Sadie came round tonight – not to train, but to show me her new coat. It was a red soldier’s jacket that she thought would go perfectly with leather jeans.
While I was putting Daisy to bed, she said, ‘Christ! Are baby’s ribs supposed to stick out like that?’
It made me worry because there are several genetic deformities in our family. Dad has a weird lump on his ear, and Mum has giant boobs that she can balance a pint between.
Also, Callum had big bulging eyes when he was born. Like he was on a Coca-Cola high (which is totally possible – Brandi drank a lot of cola when she was pregnant).
Sadie asked where my ‘loser boyfriend’ was, and I had to admit I wasn’t sure. He should have been home hours ago.
‘He’s just got a new role,’ I told her. ‘He’s probably working late.’
‘Nick’s actually got a job?’ said Sadie. ‘Since when?’
‘He does work you know,’ I insisted.
‘Yeah right,’ said Sadie.
I told her it was a very insecure life, being an actor.
‘I know,’ said Sadie. ‘Maybe he should get a real job.’
Was too tired to defend Nick yet again.
Have spent all evening worrying about Daisy’s ribs.
Tuesday, February 9th
3 am
Googled ‘baby ribs’.
All that came up were BBQ rib recipes.
Actually quite fancy some Chinese food now.
9 am
SO tired. But promised I’d see Nana Joan today, so have whizzed up Brandi’s ‘wake-up special’ – four spoons of instant coffee blended with milk and a chocolate Boost bar.
1 pm
I love my nana! She refuses to age gracefully. When I got to the care home, she was doing boxercise with the other old people.
I held punch pads for Nana’s new boyfriend – a kindly-faced man, who Nana boasts has ‘real teeth’. He really likes Nana, but she was eyeing up a new resident – a man with his own electric wheelchair.
After boxercise, we made pancakes, which Nana covered in maple syrup, Nutella and hundreds-and-thousands. Then I took Nana food shopping. The care home offers three meals a day, but they’re too healthy for her taste.
The bulk of Nana’s shopping consisted of toffees, white-sliced bread and Bailey’s Irish Cream.
When we got back to the care home, Nana showed me a ‘cracking dress’ she’d bought on eBay.
It was fluorescent pink, Lycra and skin-tight.
She’s always buying me clothes like that.
I said thanks, but I don’t really have the figure for that kind of thing anymore.
Nana said it wasn’t for me – it was for her.
To demonstrate, she put the dress on and said, ‘See? Perfect for the next séance. Your Granddad always shows up when I wear bright colours.’
Then she told me I shouldn’t put my figure down, and I was a ‘stunner’ and that she’d kill for a body like mine.
Mum and Nana love their figures, wobbles and all.
I used to be more like that. Before I had Daisy. But then, I had a better figure back then.
Nana and I talked about the wedding flowers, and the fact Nick hasn’t bought them yet.
Nana said, ‘Don’t wait around for a man to buy you flowers. Plant your own frigging garden.’
Wednesday, February 10th
Helen has got us a ‘present’ – a cleaner called Juan.
He’s coming once a week to ‘help out’.
It’s Helen’s way of saying I don’t clean the flat properly, but I really don’t care what she thinks.
Juan works part-time as a masseuse, which means his hands are very strong.
After he’d cleaned this morning, the kitchen tap was loose, and the oven clock was hanging off by its wires.
He also likes to fan things out. Takeaway leaflets. Remote controls. My sanitary towels on top of the toilet.
It’s weird having staff. I’m just not cut out for it. I spend the whole time apologising. ‘Sorry, it’s not very tidy. Sorry, I’m in the way. Sorry, Daisy keeps trying to climb on the vacuum cleaner …’
Thursday, February 11th
Got a text message from Helen today.
She always writes her text messages like letters:
Dear Juliette,
Nicholas tells me you STILL haven’t chosen wedding flowers, so thought we should meet up. You MUST ONLY go to Perfect Petals nr Dalton Road. The owner and I are old friends, and she’ll be very offended if I go elsewhere.
What’s your agenda today?
Regards,
Helen Jolly-Piggott
When Nick first told me his mum’s surname, I thought he was joking.
Then he got annoyed, and I realised he wasn’t joking at all.
He said the Jolly-Piggott name was very famous in the right circles.
I told him I didn’t move in the right circles.
He said, ‘That’s what I love about you. You don’t pretend to be something you’re not.’
Nick’s surname is Jolly-Piggott too, but he goes by his stage name – Spencer – after his dad. Henry Piggott is his stepdad.
When we get married, Helen wants us to carry on the family name.
So we’ll be Nick and Juliette Jolly-Piggott.
I texted Helen back:
Dear Helen,
I am busy today because Daisy has shat all over the sofa.
Regards,
Juliette
Friday, February 12th
Met Althea at Great Oakley library today for Little Tiddles Story Time.
Wolfgang kept trying to grab the storybook from the librarian.
The librarian laughed at first. Then it turned into a bit of a struggle.
Wolfgang ended up sinking his big front tooth into her hand. He wrestled the book from her, and no one could get it off him.
Althea was very proud.
‘He’s so confident, isn’t he?’ she boasted.
Saturday, February 13th
Lunch with the family today.
We ate downstairs in the pub, because Dad is using the dining table to clean his Lord of the Rings figurines.
I actually prefer eating in our family pub restaurant. Daisy gets bar-snack packets to rustle, and the regulars make such a fuss of her that she forgets to cry.
Mum asked me what sort of thing she should say in her wedding speech.
She’s already been googling jokes.
‘Mum,’ I begged. ‘Please don’t make a speech. Let Dad do it. He’ll make a speech straight out of Talking at Christian Occasions.’
Mum snorted, ‘But it’ll send everyone to sleep.’
‘Look, Mum,’ I reasoned. ‘If you HAVE to make a speech, please, please don’t say anything bad about Helen.’
‘But I’ve got all these brilliant jokes about her nose!’
I told her she couldn’t tell any of them. No – none of them at all.
She got all huffy then and asked if Helen was making a speech.
I said Helen hadn’t mentioned it.
‘Well, she’d better not make any jokes about you,’ said Mum. ‘That’s my job.’
‘Don’t be silly, Mum,’ I said. ‘Helen won’t make a joke. She has absolutely no sense of humour.’
Sunday, February 14th
Valentine’s Day
Nick tried to cook a romantic Valentine’s Day meal today. I say ‘tried’, because Helen ended up doing it.
She ‘popped round’ mid-afternoon and micro-managed Nick’s
cooking for the next three hours.
‘No darling, that’s not how you use a tin opener. DON’T PUT THAT IN THE SINK! I don’t care what the recipe says, ketchup has no place in bolognaise sauce.’
It should have been a good opportunity for Nick and me to talk about the wedding and our future. But it was a bit hard with Helen hovering over us, asking if we wanted more parmesan.
Tuesday, February 16th
2 am
Daisy just won’t sleep.
Thank God Nick’s still out – he’d be so stressed by now.
Am going to sleep on the living room sofa and do controlled crying.
Ten minutes at a time, they say. I can manage ten minutes of crying. It’s just ten minutes.
2.05 am
God, she sounds REALLY hungry. Maybe she’s having a growth spurt? Or maybe she’s thrown up her milk.
Oh my God, WHAT IF SHE’S THROWN UP AND IS CHOKING?
This level of crying just can’t be normal. There must be something really badly wrong.
I’m going in.
2.25 am
The little con artist.
As soon as I opened the door, Daisy was all smiles.
I cuddled her, but she would not go back to sleep, so I ended up giving her milk.
3 am
She’s awake AGAIN!!! She can’t be hungry now – I only fed her half an hour ago! PLEASE STOP CRYING!
Please, God, help her sleep.
Please, please, please.
3.10 am
Just realised why God lets famines and earthquakes happen. It’s because he’s distracted by millions of mothers begging for their baby to sleep.
3.30 am
Gave in and let Daisy have more milk. She fell straight to sleep.
Wednesday, February 17th