OMG

Just discovered that Ikea now deliver. AND, they must have been expecting my visit to their website as it has a section on checking if the truck can fit down my road. Challenge accepted!

Correlation between naughtiness and tall healthy plants???

In a nutshell, the boy likes drawing, not just confining his Mondrian creations to just A4, some days it’s the wall, every so often the carpet, and occasionally my handbag or the furniture. I have now taken to routine confiscation of the offending pencil / pen. The courgette saplings benefit greatly as I use the confiscated article as a stake. The naughtier the boy the healthier my crop. Bring it on!

Subliminal Messaging

Has not worked on hubby at all, not even one bit. May have to resort to the old list, maybe written in blood for effect. One last futile night of whispering "I love DIY and eagerly await the list" beckons. Alas, I fear that he is too ingrained in the dark art of avoiding DIY to see the light.

Sunglasses dont taste good.

I had to make an interesting choice today. For some reason, I did not take any wipes or tissues with me when taking the kids out. I had to make a snap decision on whether to wipe the sultana bread that Camster had mushed into my sunglasses, onto my newly washed fav jeans. Decided that the only thing for it was to eat the goop from my sunglasses, as flicking failed to lodge it.

Mooshed raisin bread mixed with toddler saliva and a hint of sunglass oil (from the hinges) REALLY does not taste at all palitable. I was heaving for about 5 mins. Gross. Do not want to repeat that again.

Sunday Lunch

6 adults and 5 kids for lunch is never going to be the easiest things to organise. Especially when one of the people has their heart set on a non child friendly pub, purely based on a dessert they "absolutely must have". Dessert pub advises us no tables until 3pm. We all need to eat between 12 and 12:30 due to rug rats sleep requirements.

It was a lesson in perfectly timed and executed logistics, so much so, that it must have been organised by Germans! We all managed to park in the pub carpark which was the size of a postage stamp. We managed to find a table big enough to accomodate us. Eating was a bit interesting as we staggered the orders so that one couple could eat and the others entertain kids. Mobile kids then went outside and did a great job of reverse engineering the pubs garden and scaring the resident cat. Adults then paid bill, packed up cars and went home to try and have a sneaky 40 winks whilst the kiddies slept. Perfect sunday pub lunch!

Martini, Watermelon and Cherry flavoured sheep

For the past month or so I have had trouble sleeping. Its quite ironic that now that Lottie sleeps through the night, I dont. I am normally completely compus mentus between 2 and 5 in the morning, going back to a very deep sleep just before the kids wake up. Helpful that.

I have tried everything to get back to sleep, drinking more water during the day, reading, counting sheep, then reciting my favourite cocktails, then recalling my favourite ice cream flavours. Then allocating a cocktail and ice cream flavour to my sheep. Nothing worked. I am now awaiting some minor miracle from my GP, the last two nights I have slept slightly better, probably due to sparying cat repellant on the front garden.

Ideas on a postcard please.

A record

I have managed 14 posts this month, a record on this blog. Go me! Now I understand why my house is untidy.....

Seed Count

Okay, as far as I can tell this will be the forthcoming crop for the summer will be as follows:

Approx 20 echinacea flowers which I am going to dry into a tea.
7 tomato plants
5 courgette plants
Approx 100 sprigs of dill and about the same of parsley.
1 square foot of "childrens flowers" a packet of seeds which I bought for 50p. In all probability they are weeds.
10 spring onions

The only things left to plant are: radishes, more tomatoes, some bay leaves and potentially some tarragon.

Cheese Snow

My kids have a very unique way of making me smile (mostly through gritted teeth!). Today Cameron renamed grated parmesan cheese to "cheese snow". Made me chuckle. Been a bitty couple of days. Trying to organise a trip for my grans 80th, proving to be somewhat difficult as she is so very busy. Last week she was at a great nephews graduation ceremony. She managed to get seats in the front row, partially for the good view, but the main reason was so she could pull faces at the education minister, who attended the ceremony and gave a speech. She also refused to clap him.

Next month she is off to Poland for a four day 50km hike in the hills, then has some other trips planned. She keeps hassling me to tell her when we are coming, so she can book up some more hiking trips.

Hubbies birthday

Given the fact that I need to plan most largeish social things about 6 weeks ahead (this is so I have time to buy present, get another one as boy invariably ruins / falls in love with it / or I have put it in a safe place). So its hubbies bday looming, a scary one as its the last one in his 30's. Cue endless reflections over the forthcoming weeks about his 30's, dont get me wrong, I like it, it gives us time over a stolen half hour or so to be melancoly.

I need to start thinking of a present. Am thinking tropical fish tank complete with fish, and then it would solve all other christmas presents / birthday presents going forward. One thing is holding me b ack from rushing out and buying said present. Its the look on his and the boys face when one of the fish is sick. Surely there cannot be anymore helpless feeling than the owner of a sick fish (in context of small probs that is!?). I also dont relish the thought of having to dispatch the fish down the loo.

Do I look stooopid? Courtesy of the YMCA

Okay, last time I enjoyed the YMCA so much, the Village Peeps were doing it. Today me and the kids gave them a run for their money. Hove YMCA decided to organise a spring festival. Decided it would keeps both adults and kids entertained. The kids liked the bouncy castle, alas, we could not stop for long as the pikey / chav radar was on code red. I had left the kids food at home by accident. Thought I might be able to buy something marginally edible there. WRONG. BIG TIME. If el cheapo white value bread, curled at the edges and radioactive hues of squash are your thing, then come on down. It was jolly nice of the YMCA to organise, dont get me wrong, but, should I ever want me kids to sing "I'm a barbie girl" at the top of their lungs, dont call me, I will call you approach applies!

The best bit was as I was getting the kids dressed a spotty, clipboard wearing yoof asks me and my friend if I would like to be shown the community website. I smiled and said I was in a hurry to get the kids home. In yoof language this proabably translated to me being pc illeterate. He took great pains to reassure me it was easy to use and that someone would personally show me and my friend how to get to the website and navigate around it. My friend and I looked at eachother knowingly, she is a computer programmer and I work for a software house. "Another time" I said smiling sweetly.

Facebook Likeness quiz

Have finally managed to purge off my requests on Facebook. I have taken too many quizess ranging from "whats important in love" to "am i swedish enough". For anyone that vaguely has an interest here is something to challenge you:?

1. What colour is my favourite food?

2. Name one of my fav books.

3. What does my friend Erika always nag me about?

4. Since how long have I owned my oldest pair of socks. For a bonus point, are they still in tact?

5. Name 3 items which are always in my handbag but I can never find / use.

6. Would I rather die of cold or heat?

7. What is the first thing I do whenever I check into a hotel?

8. What is my favourite thing to do to break out of being a "mummy"?

9. What perplexes me most about being human?

10. If I were PM, name five things I would change?

Answers on a postcard please....

Mental note to self

One cannot possibly sucessfully brainwash hubby when one is asleep. Blame my excellent book "American Gods".

Ok, the plan is....

Spent a glorious morning down on the beachfront playground with the kids. Boy was happy because the Volks railway ran every half hour, after which he would run round like a demented chicken shouting "train, look, train" until the next train came along, then repeat on loop. The girl was happy beacuse there were boys there. I was happy because when the boy was not looking, I polished off the remnants of the Easter chocolate. Someone had to volunteer, right?

Have now planned out the garden for the summer with the kids, have visions of marquee with lots of cusions, table and chairs on the deck, pimms on standby for when the rug rats are in bed. Now all I need is subliminal messaging to Stuart to help achieve this. The plan is to whisper my gardening requirements to him before he hits deep sleep. I will have to write a list for myself to remind me what I need to whisper. It would infact be soooo much easier if he could look at the list and comply. Alas, he is a man and there is no hope. Just like there is no hope of me ever getting rid of any of the shoes or handbags I own. Its very helpful that I have Lottie, for whenever Stuart rants about my shoes that have gathered cobwebs, I merely respond by telling him he is trying to deprive Lottie of something in her dress up box.

Dishwasher manufacturers – a free idea for you……

Why don’t they invent a dishwasher, whereby, you just empty a whole bottle of detergent into it and it then doses it out for each wash. I am fed up of trying to break into the child proof dishwasher detergent and prize it open for each wash. Please Mr Bosch, Mrs Whirlpool, Mrs Hoover….

For your information, dishwashers struggle to cope with cleaning sand pit toys. I do not recommend putting your childs collection of such toys into the dishwasher as a shortcut because a) the sand clogs up the drain and b) the sand moulds bend in the steam c) the dishes in the next wash come out covered in sand.

Pork Fillet in Cinzano and One Pan Mess

I am becoming a little slap dash in the kitchen. I never have an exact plan of what exactly I am going to cook, the equation for what ingredients I use is partly based on what my hand finds first in the veg box, what sort of mood I am in and what meat I have to work with. Yesterday, decided that pan fried pork fillet in white wine was going to be the offering, I discovered [to my absolute shock and horror] that there was no white wine in the house. Even worse was to follow. We only had my beloved Cinzano. Let me explain my relationship with Cinzano, just so you understand what a huge sacrifice I am staring at, having to throw it into a pan of sizzling pork.

Cinzano [or at least the mere thought of it] is what gets me through the hours of doom and gloom [normally 4 - 6 pm in our house], during these hours I normally have one child on my hip needing consoling as their dinner is not yet ready, and the other either whining for attention or wrecking the house. During such times, I don’t bother with deep breaths or counting to ten. I think about which glass I am going to pour my Cinzano into, wether or not I am going to add lemon or lime, sip it neat, or add lemonade [yes, its not very classy, I know!].

So, importance of Cinzano established, you will understand why I almost had to wipe away a tear as it glugged into the pork filled pot.

I consoled myself with the fact that Cinzano contains herbs, so did not need to slop out to the garden to cut any.

Today I surpassed myself with my ingenuity in the kitchen. I had exactly 22 mins to whip up a meal which would feed us all and I only had one pan. Decided that the lamb fillet needed browning, then threw in all the veggies into the same pot, added some herbs and spices, hot water and threw in the rice. Went to collect the boy from the nursery, expecting to come back and find an inedible lump of goo, but it was actually quite tasty.

A book and its cover

Lets talk books. Lets talk book covers. I never actually noticed quite how prejudiced I was until the other day, when I had 5 mins to choose some books via the internet. I had to choose a book merely based on the cover, as I only had one functioning contact lens.. Having thought seriously about what I look for in a book cover, I can firmly state that the following “guidelines” will all result in me not even taking a second glance at the book:

- Any large splashes of pink colour.

- Any book that the title proclaims it will instantly change your life – “Chicken Soup for the Soul”, “Let me make you thin” [are you kidding me have you seen my ample prosterior?!]

- Anything with insanely happy people flashing their teeth.

- Most child rearing books

- Any books which proudly advertise that they are on “regionally hillybilly times bestseller” lists,

- Autobiographies of anyone aged anyone less than 30.

- Any likening of this book to another book, film or play by some obscure person. E.g. “this is the War and Peace of the 90’s”

I have also invented a new game. Its called “Barbara’s alternate ending”. If lets say, I am bored of the book, then the following game ensues.

I write a list of three alternative endings, I allow one mediocre and mellow ending, in keeping with the story. On the other two, my imagination runs wild and free. Had I followed the above rules on “Friday Night Knitting Club” [it had too much pink], then there would have been no need to dream up alternative endings. It’s a bit like the games you used to sneakily play during classes at school. One person draws a head, passes it on, next person draws a body, so on and so forth, until the last participant, who has drawn the legs ceremoniously unfolds the Tim Burtonesque creation.

I am reading 3 books at the moment. American Gods – don’t think that I will need to play the alternative ending game with that one. Life – a user’a manual [not some self help book but a wonderful piece of fiction from the late 70’s I think.], Foucaults Pendulum – only three pages in.

Remembering characters names is proving to be difficult at the moment, so, I rechristen them. I wonder what the author would think to Smurfs and Bluetooth’s in Life a user’s manual?

Top Gear Team Challenge

2 April 2008

Dear Top Gear Team

I have a deliciously different challenge for you three motor musketeers.

I challenge you to actually take two bantam weight kiddies, a supermarket trolley and actually get buy some meaningful shopping in one of the major supermarkets, without blowing a gasket!

Having tried unsuccessfully to get two small kids into a supermarket trolley at a major (orange coloured) supermarket, I can tell you its no walk in a lily scented park.

You could undertake the perils of the dreaded understeer (great for toning abs!) as the wayward trolley hurtles randomly out of control. The experience of pivoting on one leg, the other extended outwards as you lunge into your trolley to desperately retrieve a pack of small raisins (that you just cannot reach!), whilst bored shoppers mutter for you to hurry up is certainly not to be missed. The piste de resistance will definitely be your role equivalent to a UN peacemaker, when the small child starts pulling the hair of the larger child, due to the seating positions. Things escalate and French sticks are used as batons, fromage frais as a weapon of mass destruction. By the time you reach the cashier you realise that you don’t actually have any produce in tact.

The supermarket invariably gets its own back. Their CCTV cameras are probably all trained onto the carpark, revelling in the fact that kiddie trollies have no brakes, the carpark is on a slope and you have to make a snap decision on what you save, the children, the car (from being smashed into by the trolley) or the trolleyfull of mushed food.

Given the fact that you can tell us how many bags of shopping a beige people carrier can hold, I thought it would be a different angle for you three to explore.

In actual fact, if you come down to my local orange supermarket, then I would not only lend you the kids but would teach my son to say “Clarkson for Prime Minister”.

Yours truly

Room on the Broom

Am spectacularly impressed with a new in our household. Its called Room on the Broom. Even if you don’t have kids, buy it, its just such a good mood book. I normally read a bit of Yes Minister, if I am in need of a lift, but Room on the Broom is fast taking over. Beg, steal or borrow a copy of it. Book club ladies, am seriously thinking it maybe my choice for the next book…….

TV Shows

You should know that we don’t watch a lot of television. I detest it and so does the boy. Hubby only watches the odd game of footie. Which is why it came as such a surprise that he has applied to go onto “Who wants to be a millionaire”. His words “babe, we need to make some serious money”…. I flatly refused to have anything to do with it as I would have to punch Chris Tarrant if he was to try and kiss me after each successful question.

Unbeknown to Stuart, I will apply to do Grand Designs Abroad. See what he says when Kevin McCloud starts throwing phrases like “environmental integrity” and “contextualise the build” into the pot.

In all seriousness, I spent a sleepless night re-organising our “house” (when you see the word house, think mud shack, donkey stable and no electric or water!!!) in Zala. The problem is that the house is actually built around the largest winepress I have ever seen. Its an antique and I will probably burn in hell for suggesting that it be chopped up so that we can remove it.

A pashmina and boot meet…..

I managed a spectacular injury this morning, which I think any rugby player would be proud of. Unfortunately it damm well asphyxiated me. Only I could manage something so random!!!

Whilst zipping up my boot I managed to get some strands of my pashmina caught in the zip. At the same time, Lottie started screaming, which caused me to look up and thus start the process of asphyxiation. To further compound my misery, my free foot gave way and I ended up on the floor, arms and free leg flailing. The good news is Lottie found it highly entertaining and started giggling. Perhaps I should become a children’s entertainer.