Friday, 28 September 2007
Cheese Fudge
I am writing this quickly as I have approximately 15 mins of my own adult time. Bliss. I have discovered something better than a semi naked chocolate coated Brad Pitt turning up on my doorstep offering to clean the house naked. And breathe! Its called Cheese fudge. Its a full fat cheese from Norway, it looks like a big block of fudge and its to DIE for. So very creamy and nutty in texture. Seeing as all I am on the Atkins diet due to colic, I am only eating cheese and potatoes. Tonight I shall be fighting Stuart for the remnants of the cheese fudge. I am planning on stocking up on this treat big time. Mitzi, if you are reading this then I shall ofcourse, reserve a chunk for you. Eva, your mice will die happy if you put this cheese in the mousetraps!
Wednesday, 26 September 2007
Boiled Jumpers and Grumpy babies
Painful lesson number 1: Dont use the washing machine during the hours that Cam is awake. I learned this to my cost yesterday afternoon. Having finally (and triumphantly) made it to the bottom of the wash basket, I decided to wash our remaining jumpers. BIG mistake. Unbeknown to me Cameron changed the setting on the machine from handwash to boil wash. Needless to say, the casulties were all mine and Stuarts jumpers. They will now fit Cameron's teddy bear. Either that or someone of a vertically challenged stature. I am adding about £1oo to Camerons bill which he will be presented upon leaving home.
Painful lesson number 2: Never be an optimist when it comes to a screaming baby. I decided that sine Lottie was having a bad day, she clearly needed to get out. Figured Sainsbury's in Hove would be a good outing as she would fall asleep in the car and I would then have time in said establishment to purchase weekly food. Wrong! Cue Charlotte screaming all the way there, all the way round the shop and all the way home. My dash around the supermarket must have resembled some botched attempt at speed shopping. The only way I could calm her down was to hold her, whilst trying to steer the worlds most wayward trolley. I lost count of the times I must have bumped into people. The worst thing was Lotties screaming drowned out my feeble and embarrassed apologies, so invariably I got loads of dirty looks.
Painful lesson number 2: Never be an optimist when it comes to a screaming baby. I decided that sine Lottie was having a bad day, she clearly needed to get out. Figured Sainsbury's in Hove would be a good outing as she would fall asleep in the car and I would then have time in said establishment to purchase weekly food. Wrong! Cue Charlotte screaming all the way there, all the way round the shop and all the way home. My dash around the supermarket must have resembled some botched attempt at speed shopping. The only way I could calm her down was to hold her, whilst trying to steer the worlds most wayward trolley. I lost count of the times I must have bumped into people. The worst thing was Lotties screaming drowned out my feeble and embarrassed apologies, so invariably I got loads of dirty looks.
Sunday, 23 September 2007
Avern Family Day in
Yesterday Eva was with us, so low and behold both kids on relative good behaviour. Relative good behaviour for Charlotte is only screaming for half the day. For Cam, it means only getting tetchy after your mum has made you walk most of the way up Lewes hill and down again, only to be confronted by an antiques store.
Today, its not such a bed of roses. I have counted to 10 numerous times today (in both languages). Cam has a cold, so hence everything covered in snot and Chartlotte has obviously got some sort of Antichrist virus that has forced her to scream near non stop since 12pm (its now 9pm).
In spite of this we have had some trully funny moments today, like Cam gorging himself on roast duck, he could not shovel it down fast enough. And just now, the house is quiet apart from Cam's snoring and Charlotte farting.
Even though I only had 4 hours sleep in total last night, and I should be catching some Z's right now, I am determined to do some adult stuff. Even if its watching some crap tv with a large glass of Rioja as company. At this rate, half a glass and I will be tipsy. Bring it on.
Today, its not such a bed of roses. I have counted to 10 numerous times today (in both languages). Cam has a cold, so hence everything covered in snot and Chartlotte has obviously got some sort of Antichrist virus that has forced her to scream near non stop since 12pm (its now 9pm).
In spite of this we have had some trully funny moments today, like Cam gorging himself on roast duck, he could not shovel it down fast enough. And just now, the house is quiet apart from Cam's snoring and Charlotte farting.
Even though I only had 4 hours sleep in total last night, and I should be catching some Z's right now, I am determined to do some adult stuff. Even if its watching some crap tv with a large glass of Rioja as company. At this rate, half a glass and I will be tipsy. Bring it on.
Tuesday, 11 September 2007
Imelda Avern
I have been trying to avoid it for months. The dust bunnies under our bed morphed into dust sheep, so, reluctantly I decided to clean under our bed.
If you would have asked me how many paid of shoes I owned, I would have placed my hands on my oh so sincere heart and given you an estimate of between 10 - 15 pairs, including the shoes used "around the garden", I stopped counting when I removed the 30th pair from under our bed. There were shoes I had not even worn!
I truly don't know how I have amassed such a collection. Probably something to do with the fact that when I was pregnant I only bought shoes. I have been pregnant a lot in the last two years!
The shoes are now piled high in our study, I need to get them organised before Stuart spots them. I am starting to form my defense, so if he challenges the fact that I have so many shoes, I will point out, that its actually his fault. If I was not pregnant, then I may have focused on purchasing other items.
I have learned my lesson though. Cleaning is bad for your relationship. Therefore I wont clean any more!!!
If you would have asked me how many paid of shoes I owned, I would have placed my hands on my oh so sincere heart and given you an estimate of between 10 - 15 pairs, including the shoes used "around the garden", I stopped counting when I removed the 30th pair from under our bed. There were shoes I had not even worn!
I truly don't know how I have amassed such a collection. Probably something to do with the fact that when I was pregnant I only bought shoes. I have been pregnant a lot in the last two years!
The shoes are now piled high in our study, I need to get them organised before Stuart spots them. I am starting to form my defense, so if he challenges the fact that I have so many shoes, I will point out, that its actually his fault. If I was not pregnant, then I may have focused on purchasing other items.
I have learned my lesson though. Cleaning is bad for your relationship. Therefore I wont clean any more!!!
End of an Erika Era
For the past 8 years my dear friend Erika has, on average, twice a month kept me "kempt". She is not only the best beutician in town, she is the beauty professional that I entrust with the "cart blanche" approach. Whilst I lie back and try to grab some sleep, she, waxes, tweases, dyes and tidies me someone more glamourous. Tomorrow will be my last visit to her as a beautician, as she is hanging up her everso sharp tweasers and going on maternity leave and also moving to a different part of the UK. I will greatly miss the hours spent on her therapy table being preened, putting the world to rights and having a good old girly gossip.
I know the routine before even setting foot through the door tomorrow. She will tell me off for not moisturising, ask me what I need doing ( but then tell me affectionately what she has planned). I will lie on the table, and whilst my eyes are glued semi shut with an eyelash tint, she will ernestly wax and tidy up my legs, bikini line, eyebrows etc). For the first couple of times i was being "attacked" in this sensory deprived state, I was in near hysterics, but I am now used to it, especially when she got the tweasers out to remove any straggling hairs that had the misfortune to remain.
I will miss the new age whale music she has in the background, most of which was surpressed by our giggling and gossiping, also the aroma of all her lotions and potions.
I am now faced with finding a new beautician, knowing that things wont ever be the same.
I know the routine before even setting foot through the door tomorrow. She will tell me off for not moisturising, ask me what I need doing ( but then tell me affectionately what she has planned). I will lie on the table, and whilst my eyes are glued semi shut with an eyelash tint, she will ernestly wax and tidy up my legs, bikini line, eyebrows etc). For the first couple of times i was being "attacked" in this sensory deprived state, I was in near hysterics, but I am now used to it, especially when she got the tweasers out to remove any straggling hairs that had the misfortune to remain.
I will miss the new age whale music she has in the background, most of which was surpressed by our giggling and gossiping, also the aroma of all her lotions and potions.
I am now faced with finding a new beautician, knowing that things wont ever be the same.
Thursday, 6 September 2007
Baby No 50
Just when I want to despair that Charlotte is feeding hourly, that the colic still haunts us, that tiredness is causing me to utter only two syllable words, a reminder springs from the past to make me feel incredibly grateful for this experience.
The operation I had three years ago, the embloisation, was an incredibly risky op, given the fact that we did not know if I would be able to have children afterwards. We decided to take the risk, as without it our chances were definitely nil. I would not class myself as a gambler but a possible no is much better than a definite no.
I still remember thinking when Cameron was born that he was such a precious gift and that I probably would never be graced with another. Then Charlotte arrives. I wont say that I don’t get frustrated with the lack of sleep, the never ending cycle of feeding, winding, trying to settle her into her bed, and then repeating the loop when she wakes up, the lack of time to do anything else other than spend time with Charlotte. However, I always remember how precious she is. The same goes for Cameron when he is naughty or trying to test my will power.
Anyways, I digress, Charlotte is now affectionately known by me as “Fifty”. This is because, out of about 700 women who were actively trying for babies following embolisation, there were actually only 50 babies born and she is number 50.
The operation I had three years ago, the embloisation, was an incredibly risky op, given the fact that we did not know if I would be able to have children afterwards. We decided to take the risk, as without it our chances were definitely nil. I would not class myself as a gambler but a possible no is much better than a definite no.
I still remember thinking when Cameron was born that he was such a precious gift and that I probably would never be graced with another. Then Charlotte arrives. I wont say that I don’t get frustrated with the lack of sleep, the never ending cycle of feeding, winding, trying to settle her into her bed, and then repeating the loop when she wakes up, the lack of time to do anything else other than spend time with Charlotte. However, I always remember how precious she is. The same goes for Cameron when he is naughty or trying to test my will power.
Anyways, I digress, Charlotte is now affectionately known by me as “Fifty”. This is because, out of about 700 women who were actively trying for babies following embolisation, there were actually only 50 babies born and she is number 50.
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