Easter passed in a whirlwind of “spring cleaning”, cooking and minor cabin fever. Poor old Camster did not like having to be housebound for most of it. We consoled him with some lovely food:
Easter Friday – Home cooked ham in maple syrup and peppers, with homemade bread and home made hummus. Whilst the kids had their nap Stuart and I stuffed ourselves with home made meringues and strawberries.
Easter Saturday – Easter Saturday – Roast Chicken with all the trimmings including caramelised red onions (lunch)and Fillet steak (dinner)
Easter Sunday – chocolate, chocolate, chocolate, and more chocolate, roast duck
Easter Monday – Port Fillet in red wine, leftovers for dinner
Easter Tuesday – Pasta with home made sauce.
Camster and Lottie were expertly looked after by their granddad who did a great job in not only keeping them entertained by sorting out the electrics in the garden.
Stuart and I actually managed an evening out, first time in 3 months. Unfortunately we were so knackered from cleaning that we decided to head home straight after the meal.
A great time was had by all.
Monday, 31 March 2008
Enrivonmentally Friendly Stapler
Lottie now has her first tooth. I noticed this yesterday when she eagerly shoved my finger into her mouth. Whilst she laughed at her achievement, I winced, my finger now has a cut. Despite my mangled finger, Lottie can actually be very useful. I am touting her as an environmentally friendly stapler. Just feed her, give her some toys and then give her 6 bits of paper to stick together. She will willingly oblige. Her stapling is first rate as her tooth is so sharp. The downside is that she is unhappy at relinquishing the paper, so it gets a bit crumpled in the process of prizing it from her fingers. Whoever said “stealing candy from a baby” was wrong. Very wrong.
Dinner in someones front room, sans washing up. Brilliant.
Eva’s bday dinner on Saturday was great, went to Barry at the Tureen. Random name I know, but great food (not a tureen in sight though). I do love it when they offer to take your coats from you at the door. We then sat down in a swanky private dining room upstairs (way to go Eva, sourcing that one!). The best thing definitely the end of the evening when you could just get up and walk away without having to offer to do the washing up or “pretend” to tidy up. I never tidy up properly at other peoples now, ever since I put away a load of cd’s incorrectly (apparently the cd’s should have been stacked in alphabetical order!!).
The God Channel – am I bovvered?
Ever since Stuart realised that the “bible basher” schools are seemingly better than the “am I bovverd” schools he has been of the opinion that we could potentially go to church to get the rugrats into aforementioned school. After weeks of badgering, I reluctantly agreed that I would try the religion lark, if I really have to. Decided that the best way to see if I could actually “do” religion was to watch the god channel. Thank goodness I did, because approximately 2 minutes into watching just an advert, it dawned on me why I am an atheist. Sorry kids.
Saturday, 15 March 2008
Brownie Points - Literally
Today has been a very funny day. I have cried with laughter twice and its better than any tonic I know.
The first time was when I was changing “The babies” nappy in the toilets of a local soft play area. Camster decided to be his everso useful little self and tsteal the clean nappy from the changing table. With a nervous laugh I requested that he give it back. His response was a loud giggle and then he turned on his heels and ran out of the toilet. I waited a few seconds for him to come back. I looked out of the toilet, and saw him running away at top speed, back to our pram, which was located at the other side of the complex. As I had thrown Lotties previous nappy in the bin, I was faced with having to carry her semi naked back to the pram and hope she did not pee or poo on me during the journey. I decided not to look around to check other mothers reactions to my Olympic paced waddle back to our pram.
My luck held out and I believe brownie points are due to me for being able to put a nappy on her one handed, sitting upright, whilst fending Camster off from hitting her ( having told the boy off, his logic dictates, “is I get told off, someone else gets hit”!). It’s hard telling the boy off, and maintaining a serious face and composure when all I wanted to do was laugh. I like the verve of the boy.
Sometime later my hubby is bouncing our darling daughter on his knee when I notice a dark patch on his trousers. A quick check reveals our daughter is the source of patch. Casually remind him its his turn to change the nappy and then quickly start making myself look busy in the kitchen!
The next thing I hear is Stuart wailing “there is sh*t everywhere” who put the nappy on? (Er, maybe I should now have my brownie points deducted …..?!!!!)
I run in with Camster to take a look at all the commotion. I decide that the best strategy is to linger in the background and give useful advice.
Stuart is on the floor of Camerons bedroom with soiled wipes everywhere. Cameron opts to take a closer look and starts heaving. Stuart tries to steer him towards throwing up on the laminate floor, the poor boy veers off course and runs through the soiled wipes. There is now mustard colour textured poo mushed into the carpet. Cameron lifts his foot up and says oh oh. At this stage I am laughing so much at the scene in front of me I am unable to utter a word of encouragement or advice. I vaguely hear Stuart bemoan the fact that the house stinks of poo and words such as “…taking ages to clean up” come and go. I inform Stuart simply that unless he wants me to pee myself from laughter, and thus make the house even more stinky, I am going to sit this one out!
The first time was when I was changing “The babies” nappy in the toilets of a local soft play area. Camster decided to be his everso useful little self and tsteal the clean nappy from the changing table. With a nervous laugh I requested that he give it back. His response was a loud giggle and then he turned on his heels and ran out of the toilet. I waited a few seconds for him to come back. I looked out of the toilet, and saw him running away at top speed, back to our pram, which was located at the other side of the complex. As I had thrown Lotties previous nappy in the bin, I was faced with having to carry her semi naked back to the pram and hope she did not pee or poo on me during the journey. I decided not to look around to check other mothers reactions to my Olympic paced waddle back to our pram.
My luck held out and I believe brownie points are due to me for being able to put a nappy on her one handed, sitting upright, whilst fending Camster off from hitting her ( having told the boy off, his logic dictates, “is I get told off, someone else gets hit”!). It’s hard telling the boy off, and maintaining a serious face and composure when all I wanted to do was laugh. I like the verve of the boy.
Sometime later my hubby is bouncing our darling daughter on his knee when I notice a dark patch on his trousers. A quick check reveals our daughter is the source of patch. Casually remind him its his turn to change the nappy and then quickly start making myself look busy in the kitchen!
The next thing I hear is Stuart wailing “there is sh*t everywhere” who put the nappy on? (Er, maybe I should now have my brownie points deducted …..?!!!!)
I run in with Camster to take a look at all the commotion. I decide that the best strategy is to linger in the background and give useful advice.
Stuart is on the floor of Camerons bedroom with soiled wipes everywhere. Cameron opts to take a closer look and starts heaving. Stuart tries to steer him towards throwing up on the laminate floor, the poor boy veers off course and runs through the soiled wipes. There is now mustard colour textured poo mushed into the carpet. Cameron lifts his foot up and says oh oh. At this stage I am laughing so much at the scene in front of me I am unable to utter a word of encouragement or advice. I vaguely hear Stuart bemoan the fact that the house stinks of poo and words such as “…taking ages to clean up” come and go. I inform Stuart simply that unless he wants me to pee myself from laughter, and thus make the house even more stinky, I am going to sit this one out!
Iffy Miffy
Decided to make some biscuits for Easter with “The Boy”. Unfortunately, toddler hormones reigned and he had a major hissy fit whilst I was preparing the dough, hence we ran out of baking time before he needed to go to bed.
A cunning plan struck me and I thought that rather than baking biscuits together, I could do the baking part, then we could actually colour in the finished article with some icing pens.
Why oh why are there not any Easter cookie cutters? You can get them for Christmas with holly, candy cane shaped cutters etc, but not Easter ones. Cue improvisation ala Avern. Miffy was the guide in my minds eye, as the rough rabbit shape I should be aiming for. I succeeded on the third attempt. The first two attempts gave life to “Miffy meets Dali” and Miffy “partial facial paralysis”(see attached photo).
You will also notice I have managed to create a duck and the little known “Easter fish”. The Easter fish is borne out of a need to use the last piece of dough, and I seem to recall a religious story about a Christian holiday and some fish. Hey presto!
All I need now is for the Tazmanian devil to be able to control himself with an icing pen and we may actually have some evidence to show I am a loving and good parent!
Tuesday, 11 March 2008
The changing face of the high street
I dont comprehend what has happened to Brighton. If you walk up North Street, it should be crammed full of the usual high street shops, but, most of the shops are either vacant shells, or are in the process of closing down. Same goes for Western road, just passed the shopping center.
I dont understand what is happening. One good bit of news, Primark seems to be flourishing, having moved into a much larger building. I have set myself a challenge to check the ethical credentials of all the places I normally buy clothes from.
There are also some notable shop closures in the lanes, namely Berties for shoes, the second hand picture place. The shop for men has closed and is now a dry cleaners.
I wonder what is happening......Answers on a postcard please.
NB, you wont be able to post the card from the main postoffice in Brighton, as it has closed. Nearest postoffice is a sorry excuse for one in WH Smith, churchill sq.
I dont understand what is happening. One good bit of news, Primark seems to be flourishing, having moved into a much larger building. I have set myself a challenge to check the ethical credentials of all the places I normally buy clothes from.
There are also some notable shop closures in the lanes, namely Berties for shoes, the second hand picture place. The shop for men has closed and is now a dry cleaners.
I wonder what is happening......Answers on a postcard please.
NB, you wont be able to post the card from the main postoffice in Brighton, as it has closed. Nearest postoffice is a sorry excuse for one in WH Smith, churchill sq.
A gentle reminder
I am writing this post, as a reminder to myself in the months to come of the following great things about our life:
1. Neither of us wakes up to an alarm clock, but babbling / singing kids.
2. Neither of us has to get dressed into a suit /formal clothes.
3. Neither of us has to be at a desk by 9am.
4. We eat together 7 days a week.
This is just a reminder for me, when the forthcoming months get a bit stressy.
Lesson over.
Amen!
1. Neither of us wakes up to an alarm clock, but babbling / singing kids.
2. Neither of us has to get dressed into a suit /formal clothes.
3. Neither of us has to be at a desk by 9am.
4. We eat together 7 days a week.
This is just a reminder for me, when the forthcoming months get a bit stressy.
Lesson over.
Amen!
Sunday, 9 March 2008
Day Off
Yesterday was my much needed day off, the first whole day off for 7 months, since Lottie was born. It was brilliant, writing about it now makes me smile as I remember the sheer selfishness of the day!
I started the day by making Charlotte’s lunch and then some dinner for the rest of the family. I prepared all the stuff that the kids need. Went to collect the Sunday roast meat from our butcher, and then by 10 am, Stuart was fully briefed and then I was free. I felt like screaming with excitement when I shut the door on my family! Don’t get me wrong, I love my family to bits, they are my universe, but a day off is like a mini lottery win!
I drove into town with the stereo blaring out Michael Jackson. I think I actually blew the speakers. I cannot tell you what a great sensation it is to actually walk along the street, hands firmly in my pockets. (Normally I am pushing a pram!). I did not even mind the fact that it was raining.
Decided that the best way to celebrate would be to have 3 scoops of icecream for breakfast – toffee, chockywocky chocolate and plum with cinnamon. Once brain freeze had taken hold, I signed up for a bra fitting. Brilliant to be able to take a seat in the waiting room and not look around nervously as to what the boy could destroy! I lost count of how many shops I then sauntered around, just glad to be able to take a decent look around.
The main highlight was lunch. £2.14 worth of the fizziest, sourest, teeth rotting pick and mix I could get my hands on and then sat down in Borders with a REALLY trashy book. I wish I could say the book was a literary masterpiece, it was actually Piers Morgan’s “Don’t you know who I am”. With every mouthful of pick and mix I lapped up more of Piers’s white trash gossip. Never in my life have I felt so comfortable as I did in borders, legs dangling over the side of the chair, shovelling pic and mix into my mouth, like it was going out of fashion. I was practically frothing at the mouth, not sure if it was from the pic and mix, the book or the sheer kick of being sans kids!
Some further retail therapy later, I ended up in a café, watching the world go by on a very large latte. Loved the fact that I actually saw the colours of the tiles change in the light, above the library, I felt that I had actually observed the building how the architect had wanted me to experience it.
Came home wondering if the kids had driven Stuart to the cooking wine, but he coped admirably
I started the day by making Charlotte’s lunch and then some dinner for the rest of the family. I prepared all the stuff that the kids need. Went to collect the Sunday roast meat from our butcher, and then by 10 am, Stuart was fully briefed and then I was free. I felt like screaming with excitement when I shut the door on my family! Don’t get me wrong, I love my family to bits, they are my universe, but a day off is like a mini lottery win!
I drove into town with the stereo blaring out Michael Jackson. I think I actually blew the speakers. I cannot tell you what a great sensation it is to actually walk along the street, hands firmly in my pockets. (Normally I am pushing a pram!). I did not even mind the fact that it was raining.
Decided that the best way to celebrate would be to have 3 scoops of icecream for breakfast – toffee, chockywocky chocolate and plum with cinnamon. Once brain freeze had taken hold, I signed up for a bra fitting. Brilliant to be able to take a seat in the waiting room and not look around nervously as to what the boy could destroy! I lost count of how many shops I then sauntered around, just glad to be able to take a decent look around.
The main highlight was lunch. £2.14 worth of the fizziest, sourest, teeth rotting pick and mix I could get my hands on and then sat down in Borders with a REALLY trashy book. I wish I could say the book was a literary masterpiece, it was actually Piers Morgan’s “Don’t you know who I am”. With every mouthful of pick and mix I lapped up more of Piers’s white trash gossip. Never in my life have I felt so comfortable as I did in borders, legs dangling over the side of the chair, shovelling pic and mix into my mouth, like it was going out of fashion. I was practically frothing at the mouth, not sure if it was from the pic and mix, the book or the sheer kick of being sans kids!
Some further retail therapy later, I ended up in a café, watching the world go by on a very large latte. Loved the fact that I actually saw the colours of the tiles change in the light, above the library, I felt that I had actually observed the building how the architect had wanted me to experience it.
Came home wondering if the kids had driven Stuart to the cooking wine, but he coped admirably
Thursday, 6 March 2008
Day Off
The past few days have passed in a blur of man flu, mum flu (where you pretend you are not about to keel over from sickness, just so you can get on) and plain old child flu. The high point was when Cameron got a new book called "room on the broom", pointed to the narly, haggard, old witch and shouted "Mummy".
In honor of surviving the last couple of days, I am being treated to a day off. I was supposed to be going to a spa with a friend, but, due to a death in her family, she has had to postpone. I have made a rough plan for Saturday. It will definately involve at least 3 scoops of ice-cream and a trip to Borders, where I shall slope off to the quietest corner and read some books.
I also need some clothes and shoes. Bliss.
In honor of surviving the last couple of days, I am being treated to a day off. I was supposed to be going to a spa with a friend, but, due to a death in her family, she has had to postpone. I have made a rough plan for Saturday. It will definately involve at least 3 scoops of ice-cream and a trip to Borders, where I shall slope off to the quietest corner and read some books.
I also need some clothes and shoes. Bliss.
Monday, 3 March 2008
Unlucky Day
There are days when life in this house is a dream and we all giggle all day long. Today was not one of them and I have mostly been wanting to purchase a magnum 45 and shoot dark angel right where it hurts.
I did not sleep that well last night as poor hubby has man flu. Got upto the boy at 7am, who was in a bit of a cantankerous mood. Luckily reading him loads of books quickly pacified him. He is addicted to his indoor swing at the moment and would quite happily spend hours in there. Unfortunately, the swing cuts off access between the living room and dining room, so you have to basically walk sideways becoming the human equivalent of an angel fish, just so you can get past. This morning my reflexes, probably due to interrupted sleep, were not exactly on top form. I normally sing the Indiana Jones tune in my head when negotiating the territory between the two rooms. I walked into the swing twice and bruised my thigh. If that wasn’t enough, I knelt down to push the boy whilst holding Charlotte on my knee, then got the boys foot in my eye.
I could not put Charlotte down fast enough, so I got hit again. Cameron thought this was hilarious and kept on saying “more”. Somehow the theme tune in my head switched from Indiana Jones to Jaws!
I got the kids ready and then drove into town. Imagine my optimism when I found that a kindly person had left me a free parking ticket, valid for one hour, on the machine. There is no magic formula for working out whether you can squeeze a trip to the police station AND get passport photos for us, into an hour. I decided to give it a go, what the hell, as it was obviously my lucky day for free parking!
I should have stopped there and then, when I noticed that I had to push the pram up a massive hill to get to the police station. The pram with the two kids weighs about 35 kilos. Convinced myself it was good excersise. The hill would have been manageable, had one of the wheels not fallen off. I was so puffed out, that I swore so much that I ran out of swear words in both languages. I think I would rather run the krypton factor assault course twice, than to try and balance a pram with two kids, whilst putting a wheel on.
By the time I got to the police counter, I could hardly breathe. There was a sign stating that they had a defibrillator. Again, lucky me I thought. To cut a long story short, I found a diamond ring a month ago and handed it into the police station. As no-one has come forward to claim it, its now mine, and I had to go and claim it. Again, lucky me.
The kind policewoman was nice, but, not the most efficient form filler on the planet. I think the screaming from the kids helped to motivate her along! Anyways, the ring was duly singed over and I left the police station feeling like Gollum!!!
Whilst I had my passport photo taken, Cameron tasked himself with the single handed destruction of the photo album aisle and reorganising a display stand. Its hard to have a passport photo taken, trying to look relaxed, when you know that you are going to leave the shop looking like Beirut!
Once I had put everything back in place after Cameron, said yes to the draft pics that the photographer showed me, I realised I had 17 mins left on the parking. Ofcourse, then photo printer broke down. Then I entered the wrong pin, then Cameron refused to get back in the pram. Blah blah blah. I ended up pushing the pram back to the parking space in quick time, convinced I would be facing a fine. Luckily even though I was late back, there were no traffic wardens in sight! Lucky me!
The afternoon flew by, put Charlotte to bed, then bathed the boy, read him loads of books, fed and medicated hubby, went to Sainsburys, cleaned kitchen, took rubbish and recyling out, out shopping away, prepped food for tomorrow and now here I am, at 9:30pm, having some me time.
Whoo hoo! Lucky me!
I did not sleep that well last night as poor hubby has man flu. Got upto the boy at 7am, who was in a bit of a cantankerous mood. Luckily reading him loads of books quickly pacified him. He is addicted to his indoor swing at the moment and would quite happily spend hours in there. Unfortunately, the swing cuts off access between the living room and dining room, so you have to basically walk sideways becoming the human equivalent of an angel fish, just so you can get past. This morning my reflexes, probably due to interrupted sleep, were not exactly on top form. I normally sing the Indiana Jones tune in my head when negotiating the territory between the two rooms. I walked into the swing twice and bruised my thigh. If that wasn’t enough, I knelt down to push the boy whilst holding Charlotte on my knee, then got the boys foot in my eye.
I could not put Charlotte down fast enough, so I got hit again. Cameron thought this was hilarious and kept on saying “more”. Somehow the theme tune in my head switched from Indiana Jones to Jaws!
I got the kids ready and then drove into town. Imagine my optimism when I found that a kindly person had left me a free parking ticket, valid for one hour, on the machine. There is no magic formula for working out whether you can squeeze a trip to the police station AND get passport photos for us, into an hour. I decided to give it a go, what the hell, as it was obviously my lucky day for free parking!
I should have stopped there and then, when I noticed that I had to push the pram up a massive hill to get to the police station. The pram with the two kids weighs about 35 kilos. Convinced myself it was good excersise. The hill would have been manageable, had one of the wheels not fallen off. I was so puffed out, that I swore so much that I ran out of swear words in both languages. I think I would rather run the krypton factor assault course twice, than to try and balance a pram with two kids, whilst putting a wheel on.
By the time I got to the police counter, I could hardly breathe. There was a sign stating that they had a defibrillator. Again, lucky me I thought. To cut a long story short, I found a diamond ring a month ago and handed it into the police station. As no-one has come forward to claim it, its now mine, and I had to go and claim it. Again, lucky me.
The kind policewoman was nice, but, not the most efficient form filler on the planet. I think the screaming from the kids helped to motivate her along! Anyways, the ring was duly singed over and I left the police station feeling like Gollum!!!
Whilst I had my passport photo taken, Cameron tasked himself with the single handed destruction of the photo album aisle and reorganising a display stand. Its hard to have a passport photo taken, trying to look relaxed, when you know that you are going to leave the shop looking like Beirut!
Once I had put everything back in place after Cameron, said yes to the draft pics that the photographer showed me, I realised I had 17 mins left on the parking. Ofcourse, then photo printer broke down. Then I entered the wrong pin, then Cameron refused to get back in the pram. Blah blah blah. I ended up pushing the pram back to the parking space in quick time, convinced I would be facing a fine. Luckily even though I was late back, there were no traffic wardens in sight! Lucky me!
The afternoon flew by, put Charlotte to bed, then bathed the boy, read him loads of books, fed and medicated hubby, went to Sainsburys, cleaned kitchen, took rubbish and recyling out, out shopping away, prepped food for tomorrow and now here I am, at 9:30pm, having some me time.
Whoo hoo! Lucky me!
Fake ID - Start Early
Our son was born on January 24. Not according to some “disinformation” I supplied to a local zoo though. In a brazen attempt to get the boy in free, I pretended he was not yet two and pretended his birthday was next week. We enjoyed ourselves so much there that I actually bought us annual membership. Which is where the problems start.
The lady filling out the membership forms remembered us from earlier and put his birthdate down as 04/03/06. The lady probably wondered why I did not share her enthusiasm when she divulged we would get discounts on his parties held there. I stood trying to smile through gritted teeth when she mentioned that he will get a birthday card. Maybe I should have argued the case for the boy having two birthdays like the Queen. Hang on, maybe the Queen wanted a freebie and this is how she ended up having two birthdays?
Mental note, some lies are just not worth the hassle.
The lady filling out the membership forms remembered us from earlier and put his birthdate down as 04/03/06. The lady probably wondered why I did not share her enthusiasm when she divulged we would get discounts on his parties held there. I stood trying to smile through gritted teeth when she mentioned that he will get a birthday card. Maybe I should have argued the case for the boy having two birthdays like the Queen. Hang on, maybe the Queen wanted a freebie and this is how she ended up having two birthdays?
Mental note, some lies are just not worth the hassle.
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