Weekend..........

Normally the sight of Stuart striding purposefully about the house would have me reaching for the phone to call the first available builder. However, in my semi comatose state yesterday, I decided to hang back and await the results of his endeavours. I am pleased to say the object of the claw head hammers attention was the garage door (okay, screws are not supposed to be hammered in) but aside from that one indiscretion hubby got top marks for his efforts.

We have had to revise our thinking that Cameron is the greedy guts of the family, having just had Chipmunk weighed. She has managed to put on over a third of her body weight in under a month, (something that Cam only managed to do after 6 weeks, and he had formula to help with that), probably because she is permanently feeding So much so that I call her my little lipo machine. She still is gorgeous ( I am very biased ofcourse), but I imagine her to be inflating with helium, as her face is getting chubbier and chubbier.

Not much else happening, still only averaging 2 hours uninterrupted sleep a night (last night I got 4 hours sleep in total) and I am going into town to console myself with ice cream.

Art Exhibition and Ice Cream

Took Charlotte to a sacro cranial therapy session today, in the hope that we may all get more sleep as a family, as am struggling on my average nightly allocation of 4 hours. Silly me for wanting more.

After the session, noticed that Pizza Express had opened up next to the library, complete with Italian Ice Cream palour. Had to have a taster of their watermelon flavour, which I can highly recommend. Then, feeling on a roll, I wondered over to the art centre to take a look at the current art exhibition. I was plesantly surprised when they allowed me in with my ice cream. So I got not only a sugar fix, but my kulture (!) fix as well. The pics were extremely thought provoking, the colours vibrant and the subject matter a little perplexing at times (its about a circus, but all abstract). I will stop describing it as my words wont do it justice, here is a link http://www.brighton.ac.uk/gallery-theatre/gallerylistingsfurtherinfo.html#Goto

My next mission is to find a price for a picture (spotty yoof minding the exhibition had no clue!) and work out how to afford one, even if I have to live on green potatoes for the rest of my life!

Otthonka

My Granny is a veritable encyclopedia of knowledge, therefore, I generally bow to her superiority and go with any advice she dishes out. Having bemoaned about the fact that all my clothes are covered in some kind of child related bodily fluid, she told me to make or purchase myself an "otthonka". You should know that an "otthonka" is a short sleeved cotton dress, invariably in some garish colour or long out of date pattern, worn around the house by housewives in Hungary.

The dress has a huge array of pockets for storing all sorts of paraphenalia you need as a mother /domestic godess: tissues, random plastic toy, small snack, plant sapling, valium... you get the picture. I seem to recall my granny having several of these otthonkas mostly in purple and they lasted for years. She only ever wore them at home and changed out of it at family meal times. When any inpromptu guests arrived, they were kept waiting at the door until she had changed out of it. Her golden rule was only ever to wear it around the house(hence the rather bizaare sight of her hanging her rugs out to dust and dusting them in her normal clothes, then once back inside she would change back into Otthonka attire and continue cleaning!).

So, imagine my horror, when after a half hour lecture of how I should be wearing one of these, I actually gave consideration to trying to source one. Luckily the moment of madness passed and I came to my senses. I now desperately need an outing to a Zara or Mango, even if it is only to touch or the clothes,the clothes of normal adults, so I dont have thoughts of Otthonka's ever again.

Lost - Literally

One of my dear friends was always trying to get me into watching Lost. Given the fact that I had had 2 hours sleep last night, I decided that this would be a square eyes day dedicated to crap tv. So I settled myself down to watch the first series of Lost. It was quite good. Was a little hard to get into it, as I acidentally watched episode 2 instead of episode 1 first, but my jaded brain cells seemed to cope with it. The only thing I found vaguelly irritating was the way the Lost logo was fuzzy, but, I later found out that this was not my eyesight, but the way it was meant to be. Now to find someone who owns series 2......

Christmas Planning - paper, scissors and rock style

I absolutely hate having to plan for Christmas, but, once you have kids, the pressures of where you are spending Christmas become even more of a battle ground. I have therefore decided to leave it in the fate of a game of "paper, scissors and stones" to decide where we will be. Mental note, must only play this decider when I have had more than 2 hours sleep.

Disintegrating Shoes

Stuarts mum came to visit this weekend, she was absolutely fantastic with Cameron and helped us out no end by getting upto him at some very unsociable hours.

We decided to go out for Sunday lunch to a localish up market pub which is next to an airstrip (handy for keeping Cameron entertained) every so often Cameron would shout "Plane" when one was taking off or landing. Dont think the tables next to us quite appreciated this running commentary but these are the joys of having kids! The avareage age of the patrons was 50plus so it was a very sedate affair. Not that we were all at the table at the same time for longer than 5 mins, once Cameron got bored of the planes, he needed to escape to their garden, then when the food was served, Charlotte needed feeding.....

Whenever we go out for lunch, we leave a big tip as Cameron leaves an equally big (invariably gooey) mess. We end up sloping off out of the restaurant and immediately start to debate whether we will be allowed back! This time, Cameron was a little angel, there was not one crumb to be seen underneath the table or on his high chair. Unfortunately, during the undertable inspection, we realised that Helen's shoes has "disintegrated" quite literally. There was a pile of black plastic which resembled a mini pile of earth, where the soles and heels of her shoes used to be. It was a fairly big mess. Cue akward looks and an evaluation of just how much of a tip this will amount to. We decided to be over generous.

In hindsight this was a good call, as Helen trailed black plastic all the way through the restaurant on the way out, all the way upto the car. We decided not to try and go back to that pub for a very long time.

Conveyor belt of communication

There is a magical hour, just after bathtime when both kids are asleep, whereby I now have time to communicate with the outside world. From 8pm to 9pm is a golden time, as I get to be an adult. I spend about 20 mins writing emails and the rest calling people to catch up. I am slowly but surely working my way through the list. Last night I managed to send out 8 emails and catch up with 2 friends. I am quite frankly amazed and stunned by this quantum leap forward. This time last week I would have been sitting on the sofa feeding constantly, however, Chipmunk has now learned that post bathtime is sleep time (for a few hours). I even live in hope that I may get more than one hour soon, and that after my calls I can attempt to file off the rough skin on my feet, cut my toenails and even sort my makeup bag out (not that I have worn makeup since Charlotte was born), even moisturising would be a huge leap forward at this stage!

No news

There is no news at this present time, as if I am not feeding the baby (which is a lot of the time), I am either trying to sleep (impossible) or trying to spend time with the toddler. Quite how spending time with hubby and looking after myself is going to squeeze into this rather complex, I dont yet know. Books ordered from Amazon not yet arrived, not that I have time to read them. Toddler left me a present of a slice of toast in my bed the other day. I think its still there, in some form or another, as I keep waking up covered in crumbs. Its either that or Stuart is planning on shallow frying me at some stage.

Semi Naked at Tesco

5 hours sleep, in two phases. Decided to go to reclamation yard in a nearby town to purchase fire surround. After haggling with Steptoe we secured a nice one for a good price. We even saw a church pew which would have looked great on our back decking, but, alas, it was sold. Probably for the best as I would have tried to sleep on it!

Decided that as we had not been to a supermarket in 24 hours, it was high time to visit one. As I was carrying Charlotte by hand, Stuart dutifully followed me round with a trolley. Once we got to the checkout, I decided that we in fact needed an industrial supply of rich tea biscuits (dont ask me why). So off I trundle trying to secure some. I picked up 3 packets, which is no mean feat given the fact that I had to pick them up and balance them one handed. The problems started when I tried to walk back to the checkout. My trousers had started falling down, as I did not have a spare hand (could not drop the baby or the biscuits could I?), I had to develop a unique waddle shuffle, just to get to the end of the aisle. By the time the end of the aisle was in sight, the trousers were well below my hips (thank god for a good bikini wax a few weeks ago). So I tried ever so casually to sidle upto the checkout, as if its natural to have ones clothes hanging off whilst a baby clings to me, marmosette like. I decided that after all that, it would be inappropriate to make eye contact with the cashier! I do hope I dont end up on some CCTV outtake show.

Adult Territory

Have managed to purchase some books from Amazon, I think I bought Digging to America by Ann Tyler and Travels by Micheal Chrichton. I think I ordered a couple of other books as well but cannot for the life of me remember what they are. I am also planning a soiree into town tomorrow to check out an art exhibition.

My Granny has gone home, am missing her lots and the house is too quiet, the kitchen no longer has the usual aroma of baking or cooking that we have become too used to. We have agreed to go back to Hungary in October. I may even try to take the two kids on my own.

Names Names Names

My Granny calls her raisin, Stuart calls her Voldemort when she is screaming, I call her Banshee when she is wailing, otherwise its Chipmunk as those are the sorts of noises she makes. She is only 10 days old but she has us wrapped around her finger, she is refusing to sleep in the moses basket, so she sleeps on us. Which is lovely in principle. Reality is that the 2 / 3 hours precious uninterrupted sleep you could have is spent on the outter margins of being awake so that you dont roll over and check on her every 10 mins or so. Chipmunk also generates enough heat to power a small town, so invariably you wake up drenched in sweat.

I tried reading the other evening with her asleep on me, she is totally useless as a book stand and a cold drink holder. She is quite useful however at saving me from having to discipline Cameron, as I call Stuart over for that and its discipline by proxy.

Slowly but surely getting back into normal life post op, I can now remember my pin numbers and essential phone numbers.

Wierd Questions

Lack of sleep seems to have been giving me some interesting ponderings, especially between 2am and 5 am today. I wondered if the postmen / postwomen got paid during the floods in Goucestershire (am assuming they did not have to make any deliveries!). My mind also wondered to the fascinating way they test roller coaster rides before the final sign off, which is to put a pig carcass into each seat and then do some observations. The question which popped into my mind is that surely all the pig carcasses have rigor mortis and cannot be suitably compared to floppy humans. The final ponderation was whether I could make any meaningful pics by joining the buises on my legs (these have been acquired from Cameron's tantrums). I decided the best I could do was to make a mini space ship, even at best, lob sided!

Have been pondering my happy place. I think it has turned into wishful thinking on my part. Its being locked in for the night at Chockywockydoodah and having to eat my way out. When I do eventually manage to chomp my way out, all the calories would have been magically eradicated. Bliss.

On other news, Jehova's witnesses came round at lunchtime. I answered the door covered in child related stains, half dressed, hair messed up and I think they were quite glad I did not want any "assistance". They gave me a leaflet (like I had any choice in the matter). There is an address on there, I am going to post it back along with a donor card. See what reaction I get.