Wednesday, 30 July 2008

A blog from the trenches

I have had a pants headache all day so am really utterly uncreative, other than 'which pain meds shall I try next' so here's an oldie from baby days, courtesy of my old Yahoo 360 blog.

Bedtime routine for Mummy

1110 climb into bed, check Florence tucked in, grab book, squint to read it by nightlight whilst mentally composing shopping list/phone calls to make.

1130 get up for screaming Alice

1140 get up for screaming Alice

1145 get up for screaming Alice, en-route to her room hear merry sound of Florence start crying. HOLLER for DH to get his ass upstairs (yes, I am coming)

1150 Shout DH again

1159 Shout DH using only expletives

1207 Get up for Alice/Florence duo, attempt to slam a door, shout DH

1217 DH gets into bed. Apologises. Lights off, all is quiet, not a mouse stirs

1230 Florence wakes early for feed

0100 Put Florence down for night after feed,burp, nappy

0105-0400 Sit and nurse Florence whilst she calmly surveys all the interesting stuff in the bedroom. Chat quietly to DH about emigrating/joining the French Foreign Legion/taking illegal drugs/sleep plans for next day

(0300 calm Alice from a nightmare)

0405 sleeeeeeeeeeeeep

0800 WAKEY WAKEY It's progress, Captain, but not as we know it...

Tuesday, 29 July 2008

Top spots from today

*Warning* - Mummy-centric post

1. Girls getting dressed without a humungous showdown. I suspect it's the promise of the pool at the childminder's, rather than me turning into SuperNanny...but it works for me.

2. Walking into the kitchen to find Florence marching along wearing cereal boxes on her legs. I almost wee'd. They were empty, Ihave no idea what posessed her to think of it but maaaaan...

3. Florence singing the Mummy-song using Alice's Barbie microphone. It goes like this: 'Mummmmeeee, Mummmmeeee, Mummmeeeee song'.

4. Alice deciding to have a look at her wee-wee. They're funny little things (children not wee-wees, well, yes, them too).

5. Playing monsters before bathtime. The laughing and squealing...had to be heard (and probably was by all our neighbours) to be believed.

6. The disco that followed bathtime, and the game we invented - taking it in turns to invent a dance and all copying it. Alice's were really inventive and energetic and crap mummy had a hard time keeping up. Florence's were...a bit samey, and often involved chucking yourself on the floor at some point.

7. Not in correct order but girls eating dinner uncomplainingly and without any bargaining/bribery/mummy banging head on table....hey, perhaps TODAY I am SuperNanny.

Monday, 28 July 2008

The Blog-scers


Award time :-)

The first came from Ronda. Ronda appeared on my blog as a commenter, and I am always glad to see her. She's very supportive, friendly and ALWAYS ALWAYS has an encouraging and kind word to say. She also has rather a nice blog and is a book freak like me.

Once an award is received, the rules are as follows:

1. Put the logo on your blog.
2. Add a link to the person who awarded you.
3. Nominate at least seven other blogs.
4. Add links to those blogs on your blog.
5. Leave a message for your nominee on their blog.

My nominees for this award are (opens envelope....pause...looks around, milking photo opportunity...

Bobby - Bobby writes a fantastic blog, and it always strikes a chord with we have a secret mindreader amongst us??!! She is also one of my first 'contacts' in the big new bloggy world (new to me) and was very welcoming.

Keep - Keep is a fellow Brit, and I have 'known' her for a long time. Keep is a tremendous girl, with a superb strength of character and a gentle, self-mocking view on life.

Michelle - Michelle writes the irreverent blogs I used to write on Yahoo (only mine weren't as good) and used to get myself sent into 'she-who-dares-to-whinge-after-infertility-exclusion-zone'. Well, bugger that, keep on rocking, Michelle. Still love your fave swearword.

Dee -Simply for being her, and for seeming so positive, loving and giving. You're in my prayers, Dee, for your dream.

Keri - She's an expatriot from over here, is now Down Under and is as mad as a box of frogs. And I like that.

Kim - Kim's blog is fab. I really feel I am there when I read her posts. Check out the 'poo in the garden' entry. Make sure you have your Depends.

Antigone - What a wonderful writer she is. She's going through a hard time, and also a good time. Pop along and say hello.

The second (I will be going all Gwyneth Paltrow in a second!) was from Dee. Dee and I met through my blog wanderings and I am very glad I found her. Her blog is from the heart, and you can really tell she's a 'thinker'. She comes across as very thoughful and I am sure she touches a lot of people's hearts.

Instructions on how to pass this along.

1. on your blog, copy and paste the award, these rules, a link back to the person who selected you, and a link to this post: "Pink is my favorite color...". There's a story of Pink Rose Award and other graphic to choose from.
2. Select as many award recipents as you would like, link to their blogsg(if they have one), and explain why you have chose them.
3. Let them know that you have selected them for an award by commenting on one of their posts.
4. If you are selected, pass it on by giving the Pink Rose Award to others.
5. If you find that someone you want to nominate has already been selected by someone else, you can still honor them by posting a comment on their award post stating your reasons for wishing to grant them the award.
6. You do not have to wait until someone nominates you to nominate someone else.

My nominations here are as follows:

Linds - Everything about Linds is beautiful - her mind, her family, her generosity of spirit, her open, honest nature and her fab blog. She was the person who introduced me to Blgospot, and she has been a friend for many years now.

Ronda - She is quite simply, LOVELY. I love her blog and love her mind!

RM - RM reminds me of myself when pregnant with Alice. RM has to do the hideous lovenox/clexane injections too, the same as I did. She writes a lovely blog and I feel like she's carrying us through her days with her.

Sam - Sam wrote a blog entry about friendship troubles just at the very moment when I was struggling with accepting the end of a friendship. I could relate to everything she wrote, and now both she and I have moved on from that point, but her blog still sucks me in!

Maritza - a very funny and clearly VERY intelligent lady. Her blog is a whole magazine and always very honest.

So, there you have it. Please, please go visit these girls, there's some fantastic reading out there, and some wonderful people to know.

OK, serious bit over. I just watched the cat fall off the sofa.

Sunday, 27 July 2008

Thank you

To Ronda and Dee for nominating me for awards.

I have been ICLW happy tonight, catching up on all in the blogworld, and as such have left it a bit late to navigate my way onto putting it all onto here.

But I did want to thank you both asap.

Posting tomorrow and my nominations (and feel fab lucky to be able to nominate 2 lots of people!!!! :-D)

Saturday, 26 July 2008

The REAL holiday show

High - thank you God, for the gorgeous weather, a miracle indeed for a week off booked in liaison with a police shift and colleagues holidays and ENGLISH WEATHER. Well done you!

Low - Caravans and weather - incredibly hot when it's hot, with windows just made for toddler tumbling. And then, abracadabra, Mummy wakes up at 3am to change everyone's bedclothes because they're all cold.

High - the girls and the beach. They'd been to one horrid east coast strip of excuse-for-a-beach-sand before but this was maginifcent! Lovely sand for Florence to scrabble in and the exact right level of micheveous waves for Alice to run from squealing.

Low - rough sea on our last day, which Alice and Florence did not understand. The crashing waves were so exilherating for DH and I, but care-intensive with two determined toddlers!

High - Steam Valley Railway to Dartmouth . This was the girls first trip on any sort of train, and what a train to pick - a restored steam train chugging all along the coast into Dartmouth, with lots of bunnies and people for Florence to wave at.

Low - Why oh why not coordinate ferry times with the trains to avoid long waits with bored, hot and bothered toddlers? Although of course they gave great entertainment (if screaming and running is your thing) to other passengers on the way back.

High - Dartmoor Miniature Pony Centre - the sight of Florence gamely handing in her Pony Ride ticket and having a Heeeeyuge hat fitted and getting onto what seemed like Champion the Wonderhorse's brother was astounding and wonderful, and VERY funny (as was the growling tiger following face-painting!)

Low - Alice got stage-fright and stroppy and refused her ride. I think she saw the ponies as huge as I did. And decided NO. Very loudly. At length. Even when the Pony had retired for Pony Lunch.

High - Mandril monkeys at Paignton Zoo . They honestly seemed as interested in us as we were them.

Low - Toddlers. No naps. Lots of hills. Running.

High - Devon Cream Teas . We found a little place with VERY freshly baked scones, homemade jam and gallons of delicious tea. I miss it already.

High - two girls in one bedrooom - it WORKED! Not smoothly, no, but a lot better than I had anticipated. Florence only fell off her first big girls bed three times (twice migrating to under Alice's bed, granted).

Low - the capacity two girls only jusy over a year apart have for untimely giggling. And lights on. And dragging bedding around. And early singing.

High - the girls seeing so much of Nanny and Grandad, and meeting their cousins for the first time.

Low - not knowing when they'll all get together again.

High - the journey there - absolutely trouble free, happy, excited family, we hardly noticed it.

Low - the journey home. I am 2 glasses of wine, one bottle of beer in and only just coming down.

Thank you all for your lovely comments on my last blog. The feelings haven't gone away but I am praying hard for strength, guidance and perspective. Loooking a little more closely at my hidden demons, one of which I am considering for Show and Tell. Not a pretty story, but I think it'll be good for me to finally 'talk' through it.

Friday, 18 July 2008

What's bloody wrong with me?

So, all set for our holiday. I have spent the last 2 days cleaning, preparing and packing for us going down to Devon.

Tuesday and Wednesday this week I woke up absolutely tingling with excitement, hoping the reality would live up to what was in my head, and eagerly awaited the start of real 'getting-ready-to-go'.

A couple of things happened in the meantime, both not world-enders but I really do feel like I am utterly at the mercy of what goes on around me (usually caused by me, granted) and my emotions and self-esteem take a huge hit.

I am now as miserable as sin. Thoughts clawing through my head, not sleeping, hardly eating and unable to talk to even a casual hairdresser! I am in retreat, at the worst possible time.

I see my faults glaring me in the face, and I don't like the person I am very much at the moment. I don't even feel I can go into it on here, I am that low and I have opened this up to too many people to really bare my heart.

My little beauties brighten me up, but then I start feeling guilty and sad for not being the Mummy I want to be.

Is it a control thing? is it caused by anxiety? Is Post Natal Depression still in the background? Am I looking too inward? I feel like I have got to an age now to begin to look over my life and I can see clear patterns.

Right now, I don't like me. And I don't know how to change me, or my opinion of me.

Tuesday, 15 July 2008

Men...never cease to amaze

I had quite a day of it today.

For 2 days every month I run a training course. Not my favourite part of my job, although once I am in there, and 'on-stage' I get on a roll and get on with it.

Today's class started as usual and I was just setting them up for the icebreaker when one of the students got up and left the room with another student. I didn't think much about it, and my co-trainer colleague went out with them to check what was happening.

About 30 seconds later she reappeared saying 'Nic, he's fitting'. Well, I have been first-aid trained for about 20 years now, refreshed annually, and last year took the step to become a first aid trainer. However, in all this time I have never had to use it 'live'. Thank goodness, it all went ok, the paramedics arrived and the person is being looked after/investigated in hospital.

I felt sick afterwards. Partly to do with just being present in the fast-developing situation, the horror of it (bit silly for a first aider!) and partly I guess from adreneline from just getting on with it. We recommenced training, and the class went on as normal.

About an hour later we got a chance for a break, and I went down to my office to find a note from one of my on-going students who needed me NOW. I called, explained I was in a class but he was adamant he needed 10 off I went.

I am on my way to his office, to perform some educational first aid, when DH calls. I try to get him off the phone, and say I will call back.

When I do get a chance to call him I relate how my day has gone so far....He briefly pauses to go 'wow' and the next words are 'what shall I get the girls for dinner?'

Needless to say he has been packed off tonight to pump my tyres, fill up car with petrol and get me something fatty and delicious for dinner.

Men!! HUH!

Sunday, 13 July 2008

Sunday sunday

Us girls had a fab fab fab day. DH not so good as the CURSED new car refused to start and he was late for work. Not helped of course, by me going out with the girls and him having to wait for me to get back to use my car....whoops.

Me and the girls went to church this morning. A new experience for all of us - them, well there's so many firsts when you're 2 and 3 aren't there! Me, not because I have never been to church, but never been to a church like this.

I liked it, I really did. I have tons of questions, which I guess is a good thing? Much better than yiiiiiikes, what's going oooooooon???!!! People there seemed generally very friendly (although creche lady who called the girls 'back to Grandma') SHAME ON YOU. Just kidding. No, I am not. Arggghhhh. Grandma?? Waaaaaah, I must must must sort out my hair.

Lots of people seemed swept away by their worship. I, in my logical way, am not doubting it, but am really keen to get some elaboration on what was going on. There was one spooky-ish moment, as we arrived there. I have never been to the location before so Mr SatNav took us. When he got into his 'you have reached your destination' loop I could see that the front gates, with the big 'IN' sign were locked. Great. So I whizzed up a random road to turn round. To be greeted by a sign with an arrow for the very place we were going. Coincidence...or...?

I can imagine some people that know me will have faintly raised eyebrows and a smirk on their face reading this. We're not very good at religion, and tend to lock it in a cupboard with stuff like piles medication - lots of people have it but surprisingly few feel happy to admit it.

I think the one thing I find hard to grasp with religion is this: I know a lot of people who go to church very regularly, and presumably live their lives that way - so how do such people do such nasty things? I mean really out and out needlessly vicious and spiteful acts...I know we're all human, but these people seem to have gone out of their way to be horrible.

Questioning is good, and hopefully I will start to gain some insights.

The girls had a good dance, and then played in the creche part, and then stuffed themselves with biscuits and doughnuts. Now, church with doughnuts - why didn't someone think of that before??!!!

Saturday, 12 July 2008

Naughty Baby Barbie

Baby Barbie played up a lot at bedtime tonight.

She insisted on getting into Florence's bed, and then proceded to make a nuisance of herself.

Firstly she would NOT lay down, but insisted on dancing like a lunatic and made Florence sing for her.

She then thought it would be funny to chuck the quilt off Florence.

After this she persuaded Florence to stand up and jump.

When Florence tried to drink her milk Baby Barbie kept sneaking sips.

Baby Barbie then started repeatedly banging her head on the end of the cot, forcing Florence's arm to follow.

Baby Barbie was a right little twat, and I was really glad when she went back over her options and decided she'd sleep in the book box and not in bed.

Night night Baby Barbie.

Friday, 11 July 2008

Dear Mr Microsoft Brain

I have been using this product for some time now and I notice there seem to be a few bugs that aren't ironed out yet:

1. The switch that is meant to turn it off at night-time sometimes seems to get stuck to the 'on' position, thereby causing me to be awake for extended periods.

2. Along with the above problem, the 'sifting-through-worries' application seems to not only get stuck on, but also runs way too fast sometimes. It also seems to categorise things that don't really fall into the 'worry' bracket as worries, thereby making the whole process an almost constant one.

3. I don't think this model was equipped with the correct amount of memory. A vast number of things seem to disappear off the system, only to reappear, which the system then moves into the 'worry' category.

4. The system seems to have a lot of trouble warming up when it is first booted up in the morning. It often seems to have trouble even functioning to make a cup of coffee.

5. The Rumpy-Pumpy program appears to be not functioning whatsoever. It may well have burnt out as it worked exceptionally well a few years ago.

6. Every so often the Logic-Runtime-system seems to malfunction, causing misinterpretation of a variety of everyday occurrances and complete lack of functionality. This sometimes trips the emotion javascript resulting in unpredicable floods of tears or gales of laughter.

Would it be possible to send this model back to you and have it analysed for defects. I would be happy to accept a stand-in model in the meantime. If you don't accommodate my needs, and address my issues seriously I will be forced to take legal action.

If I remember.

Thursday, 10 July 2008

What is it with kids and bedtimes?

When they're tiny it's fighting through colic, or days and nights mixed up...and of course the regular round of waking up for night feeds. Babies love sleep, but quite often aren't actually that good at it at night.

Then you move past the newborn phase, some people take the easy-come, easy-go route and don't have any structure to bedtime, some go for the co-sleeping either by design or from being worn down into it and some go for the full-on, by the clock bedtime routine.

Just as you have that sussed, and hopefully sleeping through the night is something fairly regular....along comes TEETHING, WEANING, COLDS ......Yeah!!!! You thought you had a sleep-through baby. WRONG WRONG WRONG.

Soooo....teeth - check, solids - check, colds - check. You know what to do with all of them, within reason. Clever Mummy, you're a real pro.

Muahahahahahaaaaaa says the sleep fairy. WRONG WRONG WRONG. Baby wants to give up one nap, and discovers the joys of overtiredness. and playing. and climbing. and m-a-n-i-p-u-l-t-i-o-n. Deliberate, carefully-planned manipulation.

You overcome that one. Along comes 'dreaming' and 'Mummy-can-you-say-separation-anxiety'. Oh, and more climbing. And the manipulation skills are growing.

Just as nights slowly start to become a time when expecting more than 3 hours sleep on the trot isn't something too unrealistic, the bedtime routine grooooooooows.

Playing and delaying. One and the same. One loo visit turns into 4. Cuddles and kisses turn into a cycle of 'cuggle'...'now tiss'...'cuggle'. Brushing teeth starts as cajolment to do it, and then moves into begging to stop. Every toy in the house, bedding, clothing, food, drink and sponges to wash faces with explode in every room, vitally important and when removed cause screams of dismay.

And you know, I am convinced, we'll get past this only to move into 'pleeeease get out of bed now'.

Wednesday, 9 July 2008

Blackbird murder suspect in custody

This morning a cat was apprehended at the scene of the violent murder of a blackbird. Detectives attending the scene were reported as saying they 'rarely encounter scenes of such gratuitous and uncontrolled violence'.

The suspect was found at the scene, crouching on a sofa, looking at the victim. Police said he was the prime suspect for the case, being found at the scene and having several feathers around his mouth and on his fur. The feathers have been sent off for forensic analysis to confirm they are from the victim. When arrested the cat leapt playfully at police officers' legs and attempted to bite one officer on the foot.

When interviewed the cat was reported to have offered no explanations for his presence at the scene, and merely rolled onto his side, flicking his tail. The cat, whose identity has not been revealed, but is believed to be one Harry THE CAT, refused to respond to any questioning and also did not indicate whether he wanted legal representation. At one point the cat did mew repeatedly, and refused to stop until he was given biscuits.

The interview was suspended after the cat curled up in a corner and went to sleep.

Detectives are confident that DNA evidence will firmly link the cat to the crime, and are conducting house-to-house enquiries looking for witnesses.

Tuesday, 8 July 2008


so no blog. BAAAAAAAAH.

Normal service will be resumed shortly - don't go away!

Monday, 7 July 2008

Housework I hate

Well, after admitting what a trog I look....might as well let you into the other dirty bits.

1. Hoovering (or vacuuming for those over the pond). A little known, and in my opinion, much neglected bonus of having IVF (yes - BONUS) is - once those little embies are in there you're BANNED FROM HOOVERING! How good is that? Really makes spending £6k plus on injecting yourself with hideous drugs for 6 or so weeks well worth it. Oh, and you just *might* get a baby out of it. Hooevering wasn't on my list of fave tasks before IVF, but get this - I have hardly dragged one around the house since! For some bizarre reason, my beloved has conveniently (for me) forgotten I am not the recptacle of our precious cargo any more. This has caused a vague dislike to blossom into out-and-out hate.

2. Ironing. Why. Who bloody thought ironing up 'I know - let's add a job to everyone's day'. You'd think those iron age people had better stuff to think about - say some decent heating for the caves, or TVs to while away nights not out hunting unicorns or whatever. I am actually looking forward to being an old lady and either: not caring if I look like the cast-offs from a car-boot sale (wait - you read yesterday's blog - bugger) or investing in some nice drip-dry ensembles. Naturally by that point the girls will hopefully be taking care of their own clothing, DH can wear some stylish sports suits - sorted.

3. Emptying the dishwasher. I don't really know why but once I know it's finished I slink past it and pretend I haven't noticed. I think DH is under the impression that it's just unhappy coincidence it has always just finished when he goes into the kitchen.

4. Putting clean duvet covers onto quilts. Which is highly unfortunate as I have a bit of a clean bedding habit. I love the feel/small of it, and can go into a fugue and wake up and find myself stood next to a stripped bed, with all the linen thrown down the stairs. Which obviously means I then have to put clean on. I am short. I need to stand on the bed. We have a memory foam mattress - so the minute I am on the bed I slowly siiiiiiink whilst frantically trying to shake the quilt into the cover.

5. Emptying bins. Ugh. All of it, so yukky. I stuff and stuff and stuff and stuff things in until DH eventually arrives home 'wow - the bin just got full - why did you put that apple core in - you could see it was virtually full'.

Jut so you don't think I am a complete vile compost heap - I DO like: OCD cleaning of bathrooms/loos. I do like tidying cupboards. I do like clearing out crap, a little too much probably. I do like cooking, just wish I had more time to do 'creative' cooking rather than the-get-freezer-as-full-as-possible-for-dinners-after-work cooking. I do like blogging. Oh, wait - that's not strictly housework. Or actually, it isn't housework at all, is it? Oh well.

Sunday, 6 July 2008

Yummy Mummies

Do you know one? Are YOU one?

I most certainly am not. But today I bumped into one I know. I literally curled up into a little ball of envious, pathetic, gibbering scruffiness.

I used to work with her. She now has 2 children - both conceived exactly as planned - #2 in a 1-week window when her blokie had a week back from Iraq. She planned his leave around her ovulation. Naturally they hit the jackpot. But that isn't why I feel such a frumpy, messy, uncontrolled freak around her.

Let's start with how she looks: Tall, naturally very blonde, willowy. She is upper class, and sounds like that, and along with the good breeding she has those perfect social skills that make you feel how thrilled she is to see you, and before you know it you're babbling about the ridiculous bitty-shitty small stuff that SHE DOESN'T NEED TO KNOW! She was wearing some effortless looking ensemble which looked immaculate, her skin was clear, dewy and radiant.

Then there's the 2 kids. #2 a beautiful redhead, perched clamly and quietly on her hip, no fussing, no dribble, no mouth/hair/eyebrows covered in ketchup (the meet was in McDonalds). Her eldest stood next to her, waiting patiently, not saying a word and not running around like a demented rabbit.

Now let's move our viewpoint: Me, hair like a greying, head-scratching 8-year old boy's. Skin...well, probably hideous. I am incubating a non-period zit, and after 2 wake ups last night and then not being able to get back to sleep because I had some very important worrying to do...
Clothing - blue tracksuit. Amazingly, non-dribbled on (at that point) My girls - running around a mirrored pillar taking it in turns to squeal. Both of them with hair everywhere, and Alice with her skirt halfway around her knees because she insisted on wearing one that's too big. Florence's trousers were ducky pink with orange stains - she had an orange on the wayto the shops in the car.


I make no secret of the fact that I have always wanted to be one of these 'together' women. When I worked with this girl she was also a complete achiever - but never at the cost of alienating anyone. So very good at her job, so organised, so full of bright, workable ideas. I want to puke. I have never been someone who has that 'groomed, finished look' even in the days before 2 kids slimmed my me-time down so much (whilst having the opposite effect on my figure). Now my girls are going the same way. If I put their hair up in pretty things it is either ripped straight out, or the journey there, and car-dancing proves too much for the 'do' and they look like old barbies before we get there. I am thinking dresses. Well, more than thinking actually. I bought them 4 each this weekend. Which is very naughty as we're supposedly going careful in preparation for our holiday.

But they'll look more 'together' in a dress, right? As for me....the only time I can get to the shops is with them, and I don't get more than 2 minutes looking at me-stuff before the craziness commences.

Saturday, 5 July 2008


That's how I feel tonight. Completely flat.

I spent all day collecting little titbit memories to blog about (excluding the weekly saturday express-train to nervous breakdown grocery shop) and even had 2 goodies to get me kick-started.

Then DH left for his night shift. And my mood, very quickly, quietly and thoroughly plunged. To flat. I hate hate hate these police shifts. He didn't get in till 10am this morning, was meant to finish at 7 but as virtually every shift, had to stay late. We never did anything vastly exciting or important at weekends - no family near and no one my girls know well enough for me to leave them with, our high point was usually a takeaway, a DVD, and maaaaaybe, if we were feeling frivolous, a bottle of wine or a couple of beers between us.

But that complete together, relaxed, home, US thing rocked my world. We're so comfortable together, find the same things funny, understand each other's weird worries, oh and we can even share it in russian if the english word doesn't quite hit it!

Now it feels like he's never here. Not in any significant amount anyway. I'm not good at TV, it takes me some discipline to actually sit that inactive. With him watching a movie was activity in itself, just being there with him. But there's no point without him here.

He tried so hard to get into the police - 3 goes. It didn't come easy as the hurdle of not being a native speaker of english was, and in some ways still is, huge. I am so proud of him. But, there's a big part of me saying 'be careful what you wish for' Yes, he got in, but not only now really faces the mountain of learning the job, but also it has had such colossal impact on the time we get together...

OK, one bit of what I wanted to blog about before I got a case of the sads:

Alice and I have a fairly complicated ritual regarding bedtime, the penultimate part of which is 'so, darling - what are you going to dream about?'

Tonight's answer: Birmingham

Each to their own, Alice, each to their own.

Friday, 4 July 2008


I am always on here, blah-ing about myself or my girls, or work, or my toenails....or whatever pops into my head....

But there's this 'aside-mentioned' person who never gets a look in. Not that he's bothered. He finds the idea of writing to either the ether or other people on the internet bizarre at best.

He's just left work for a night shift, and as it always does, my heart drifts through the memories we have built together since we met in 2000.

So, some random facts (no, not THOSE ones, you dirty trollops - go google hot boys or something)

My DH is originally from Georgia. The USSR one.

He speaks 4 languages fluently

He is a Trainee Police officer

He adores football (baaaaah)

He has given our girls their gorgeous eyes

He does this little ritual when he gets into bed (always after me)...comes into room, tickles one of my feet which are sticking out of quilt, goes to bathroom etc, comes in, sits on bed and BRUSHES HIS FEET....Whaaaaat - do we live in a bedouin tent? Was there a sandstorm while I was reading?

He gets horrific hayfever, a gift from the UK to him

He is OCD clean obsessed. Goes SO well with having toddlers

He is nuts on watching movies - any old rubbish

He can't stand adverts on TV and will feverishly flick channels in an attempt to avoid them

He has been an absolute rock for me through some difficult times

He can have a hideous temper but life as a Police Officer seems to be suiting him well in changing this tendency

He makes me laugh until I almost wet myself (almost being......well, 2 kids - what do YOU think?!)

He has expensive tastes

He has an award for bravery - pulled a woman from a burning house

He has a wife who adores him

Will stop before I go too sloppy and lose my regular readers who come here for sarcasm, self-pity and to see if my space bar is finally working

Thursday, 3 July 2008

Drip drip drip

A little dripping tap of mini-annoyances turned today into 'utterly fed up and wants to win the lottery and buy a house and a beach'.

Here is not the place for me to list them, work stuff, individually I would have ridden them and thought 'bah, curses, how frustrating'. Together, one by one they totally knocked my mood and now you lot get a whiny blog (ah, but I did WARN you, in my profile!)

So, rather than enumerate them, let's give them a rough category:

Someone being horrid
Someone being forgetful
Someone being pissy and spoilt
Someone being thoughtless

2 of the items affected other people so had knock-ons, the other 2 only affected me and will have passed unnoticed by the individuals. So - they're alright then...? right?


When I am in this mood I want nothing to do with anyone other than my family. I beat myself up and think why why why why and picture myself in a little ball of ice, touching no one until it melts when I come home.

On a lighter note, although not moving away from the 'hit-Nic' theme - I am a complete monkey. Need to look into my IComLeavWe status, as stupid skim-reader I can be when rushing through something, the 'We' part of it didn't register as 'week'. Or what week. Yes, that'll be the one when we go to South Devon on hols. In a caravan. With no wireless access no doubt. Even IF DH would be overjoyed with my keeping up my blog addiction whilst away. Sooooo....I am reading tons of blogs at the moment, and commenting more than lurking, so hopefully it can be in the bank??? Please??!!

Wednesday, 2 July 2008

Toddler food rules

1. If you haven't eaten it before, don't try it.

2. Unless it's on Mum or Dad's plate, then eat all of it.

3. If they try to move some of the food on their plate onto yours, halt this action immediately by means of screaming hysterically like a crowd of wolverines is attacking you.

4. If you're not too sure if you've tried it before, best to stay on the safe side and follow above rules 1-3.

5. 'I'm full' actually means 'I am full of this vile main course you're attempting to poison me with, please commence with pudding'

6. Always ensure you gulp as much juice/water as is physically possible before eating.

7. When Mummy appears particularly harried, hot and bothered, adopt your best whiny voice and ask for sweets/crisps/chocolate/biscuits in an increasingly threatening manner.

8. If you have a sibling, do your best to eat in the most ridiculous, mess-making manner to get them laughing, and copying. Hopefully in an even more outrageous way than you.

9. Then copy that.

10. Between mouthfuls (if you have caved that far) run around as much of the house/garden as you can.

11. When not running go to the loo, put on Mummy's clippy shoes or muddy wellingtons and 'made for walking' is your watchword.

12. Beware of the GOOD cake. There are occasions you will be palmed off with smiley biscuits or jelly or muffins. Mummy and Daddy may just have gourmet range (or even home-made - gasp) mouthwatering delights. Hold out for these.

13. If holding out doesn't work, go back to rule 3.

14. Parents may erroneously attempt to bribe you into eating. There is intensive research being undertaken, but it is highly likely that Santa DOESN'T see everything, and what goes past your lips doesn't interest him one whit.

15. Growing big and strong is down to genes. More research is taking place, initial results of which point to sweets and crisps being highly beneficial to bigness and strongness.

16. If the pressure's really on, and some of the threats/bribes seem genuine, make puking faces. These of course disappear the moment the pressure is lifted and you can move onto the sweets/crisps/chocolate litany.

17. Try not to fall for the 'disinterested act'. Look closely and you'll see they ARE bothered, just keep it going.

18. Check what has been cooked for dinner and ask for the polar opposite. Keep Mummy off-balance and you'll always have the upper hand.

19. Run upstairs and slam your door at the mention of dinner. Just because, really.

20. It sounds a cliche, but mindless screaming really is SO effective.

Tuesday, 1 July 2008

Who let the guts out?

Oh my sodding stomach. It's out of control. It's its own universe. It lives its own life, has its own job and I think (hope) has booked its own holiday.

I wasn't exactly sylph-like before my babies, but this is NOT FUNNY. Ironically, Ihave thread-like arms, child-sized wrists and ankles of a young gazelle. And the gut of a dart-playing, beer-swilling, pie-eating fat bastard.

Sit ups you say - the muscle is buried so damn deep below this ecosystem of lard, they're not even aware if Ihang myself upside down holding a toddler by each arm.

Eat less you say. Well, that's all well and good, but I object on moral grounds the fact that whatever deliciousness you put in your mouth bears any relation whatsoever to Planet Belly.

Tummy tuck you say. In a heartbeat. Except. In the country of 'free' healthcare (otheriwse known as 'Wing it, hope you stop moaning and if we do have to refer you on, hopefully it'll be gone by the time you eventually get to see a dismissive consultant' the idea of spending any money on private medicine NOT for the purpose of keeping us all healthy is quite inconcievable. The only time I have paid for medical treatment was for children - before I had them, and expressly for the purpose of having them. Added to that, there is also the not-so-small issue of a hankering for private education for the girls. They are allegedly quite bright for their ages, but to be honest, having seen some of the results of state education during my forays into teacher training, even if the girls were as bright as my cat, I would still prefer them to be privately educated.

So, we're at an impasse. At the moment I haven't got the energy to devote to the control that a 'diet' requires, and despite my objections I know it's the only way. Sigh...

Calamity tonight. Florence is a hider. She grabs stuff and secretes it in all sorts of odd places. We're still minus the middle bit of the loo roll holder in the downstairs loo since she put it 'in the bin' (her words, not mine). Now tonight we had absolute meltdown from Alice because her toothbrush has disappeared. I turned out every teeny little bag, every cupboard, drawer, under every bed, behind the loo. Nothing. So I have to come up with something clever to persuade Alice to be ok without her sparkly-blue-flashing-rabbit toothbrush tomorrow morning.

It's summer here in the UK. Today, that is. I don't deal well with the heat, DH abhors flies and also suffers with hayfever so teatime/bedtime was a little frazzled with 'BATTLE OF THE DOORS'. I eventually won, although he doesn't know it. Multiple windows wiiiiiiide open upstairs.