Bedtime Snack

Put the kids to bed on my own yesterday as other half was playing golf. Went to check in on the boy and discovered that he had smeared a tub of vicks vaporub style ointment into his teddies, the cot and his bedding. Upon removing items from his bed, which by the way smelt lovely, he pointed to his mouth and said "no more". This meant, he had eaten some. Checked the ingredients, found it to be parrafin and essential oils. Had conflab with Myson and hubbie, decided he probably did not have that much of it to eat. Put him back into bed and all was well.

Lovely LM and Mighty Myson

It was grrrrrreat to see you both from the land of the upside down. Come back soon and this time, bring some good weather, stay for longer, even if its just to let us win a game of Buzz!!!

Candle, both ends

I have overused both ends of the candle. Late nights, disrupted sleep due to sick /teething kids and early starts have taken their toll. If you were to try and make conversation with me, my tongue will hang out, I will stare blankly ahead and say "humpf", "dunno". Five social engagements, vino, cocktails, lovely food, market diner food have left me teenager like in my social interaction. Just want to be sent to my room now to sulk. Leave my dinner on a tray at the door pls.

Bl**dy Telescope

"Yeah, its dead user friendly, you just point it at the sky, it aligns and then off you go..." That was the clincher of why I bought Stuart an all singing all dancing computerised telescope. Well, after about 5 hours of (mis) aligning it did not work, we could not see anything. After much coaxing and threats of getting a hammer to it, eventually it found 3 stars, but they looked more like random pin pricks in the fabric of darkness than anything else.

I have phoned the company. They asked me what the problem was. I explained that whilst a closeup of darkness is nice occasionally, it should not be doing that. They asked me for error messages, replied none. They suggested switching on and off. Advised that we had done that approx 130 times. Things really only got actioned once my baby started screaming in the background. Scared geek boy on the end of the phone sqeaked that they would send a replacement.

Cash and Carry

One of the benefits of Stuarts business is that we have a golden ticket (card) to get us into the cash and carry. He normally opts to support the whole GDP of a cocoa producing country by buying a very large boxes of chocolate. He also cannot leave without a box of Scampi and Lemon Nik Naks. Oh, throw in the odd inflatable giant slide which has been reduced by 50%. And some booze.

Me, I buy small things, shower gel, dispensable soap. The best thing about the cash and carry is that you get to see loads of local caterers and what they buy. I now know that I would not touch anything of a local sarnie delivery service, as, everything they bought was totally cheap. Vacuum packed, cheap meat, reformed cheese. Need I say anything more. I have also spotted some local curry houses and restaurants. They were just stocking up on booze. Phew!

I fear we are about to blow the carbon footprint

have found exceedinly cheap flights to Italy, where we can lord it up with my uncle and aunty on the lake.

good old budget airlines.....

Wildly Optimistic

I think the proof that I am an eternal optimist has been found today. I switched the gearbox controller from W (Winter) to S (Summer). Not quite sure what mechanical changes this enforces, apart from telling the mouse inside the engine, to take off its winter coat and put on its summer hat [then get back to peddling].

Dont try this at home

Most of my day (when I am not with the kids) appear to be centered around shifting things from one place to another for example taking clean clothes upstairs, taking washing downstairs. Or changing things from one state to the other eg uncooked to cooked.

I finally had enough of the tedium of endless trips with the dry clothes up and down the stairs, so I decided to wear everything that needed taking upstairs, thus leaving my arms free to carry post etc upstairs at the same time. The rule was that it all had to go over my own clothes and if I could not wear it as it was supposed to be worn, I had to improvise. I think I managed to put on 3 of stuarts t-shirts. The kids clothes got my shins. I ran out of shin, so I used some of them to make a turban. By the time I got to thinking of going upstairs, I was fairly toasty. Ofcourse then the phone rings. Ofcourse its one of my good friends, who I end up yakking to far to long. I dont tell her about what I am doing, she may think I have completely lost it. Once I am finally upstairs, the kids wake up from their nap. I dont think I have seen them stare so much, without blinking!!!

To add insult to injury, some of the clothes end up getting due to my filthy shoes, so they need to be taken down again to be washed.

Lesson is: dont try and make it fun. Whistle while you work approach only works at Disney. Dont put your other halfs underpants on your head. Live in a bungalow.

DFS - Dont Feel like Stopping

Another day in our household and another chance to chalk up an establishment where we are persona non grata.

From my point of view, never again will I pay to take the kids to the local soft play area, when I can take them to a sofa showroom. Desperate salesmen will grit their teeth and smile obligingly as your two year old uses a top of the range, latest season, prisine sofa as a trampoline.

Calm blinks will invariably mask deepseated (gettit???!!) outrage as colour swatches are hurled 15 feet across the showroom. To my toddler, price tags are clearly not meant to stay on the item it is (or was) attached to. Cardboard banners professing the qualities and extras avaiable, are quickly redesignated as frisbees. The baby marvels at the intricate stich detailing on another sofa, paying the ultimate compliment by massaging her goopy snack into it. The toddler takes it upon himself to test the durability of one of the sofas we like, but repeatedly ramming the pushchair into the sides.

Through all this, my hubby is calmly gathering prices, whilst I check that seat backs are high enough and mutter the odd half hearted tut. "no baby, leave that
expensive glass vase alone".

Once the toddler is puffed out, we ask some questions about where the furniture is made, upon finding out 2 of the 3 sofas we like are made in China, we thank them for their time, and state that we generally dont buy anything from China, unless they can supply me with an affadavid that it was not produced by some sweatshop. After taking deails of the one which is made in Europe, gather exhausted toddler and sleeping baby, we leave behind a quivering salesman.

To Gordon Brown, me and my family thank you, as, should the economy be in a better state, and the sofa place had more customers, we would not have gotten away with the above. You did me a favour today.

Silent Disco Part 2

Thanks to Whiley (the artist, not the DJ), I can commentate that the scores are as follows:

Cranking Car to impossibly high decibel output 1 - Silent Disco 0.

Just shows that there "aint no party like an S Club party".

Silent Disco

When i am alone in the car, I tend to crank the stereo up way beyond healthy guidelines. I can feel the beat of the music in my ribs and the speakers are about to blow, the inside of the car feels like its about to implode with the force of the music, but its a refreshing and essential release to the rigours of family life.

Imagine my surprise the other evening when Stuart suggested we get headphones and then we can listen to music whilst the kids are asleep. One step further, he has actually found a silent disco, part of the Brighton festival, whereby you attend a disco but the noise is channeled through headphones. Am reserving judgement, but he is adament that we should go for his birthday.

I wonder what discos smell like, now that smoking laws have changed, and how it will feel to dance to music from a headphone. I may end up dad dancing. How peculiar!

Love my butcher

I have a really good rapport with my butcher. He is trully brilliant and I look forward to my twice weekly visits. He has further gone up in my estimation as he gave us lovely gift of 4 tubs of locally produced ice cream. He started stocking them this week and as I told him that ice cream was my fav food, he decided to treat us. Lovely man. Kids and I shared a chocolate one, hubby had vanilla, it was really tasty, apparently the lady who makes them was so surprised by the interest in her ice cream, she had to milk the cows more than usual yesterday, just to be able to meet supply. Bless.

Baby causes a pile up

The scene is the tranquil setting of Pavillion Gardens, where office workers and families alike are enjoying the warm sunshine. There is a camera crew recording a piece to camera. All I could make out of the crew were their backs. The crew consists of a sound person with the "boom" at the back, in front of him to his left is the editor or manager type person, then comes the cameraman and then the only front facing person is the presenter.

Everyone is very relaxed and happy, especially my 9 month old, who is babbling in delight at being out. As we start to cross the path so we can avoid the camera crew, who are a good 10 meters away, Lottie starts screaching with delight. At this stage the editor looks up at her, stops, the cameraman bumps into the him, the editor then knocks the sound guy out of the way, the presenter, who sees this all unfolding starts laighing uncontrollably as she realises whats going on. Cue take 22......

Identify Me

I was given this object in my Christmas stocking, unable to fully identify the exact function it furfilled, I have used it as a walnut smasher, meat tenderiser, spider relocator. Stuart used it as a hammer. Camster used it as a toy and furniture tendiriser. It was only thanks to a supermarket (boo) booze ailse that I found out its real purpose in life, its a measure for spirits. I chuckled all the way to a bottle of Baileys to celebrate my enlightenment.

How to reduce productivity ala Avern

I may have mentioned that I got hold of a recipie for Courgette and Parmesan relish. I was presented with a moral dilemma whilst awaiting my turn at the surgery. Do I everso surreptitiously tear out the article or bravely ask for a pair of scissors and take a chance of being told no?

I will admit a trial tear of some waffly article on organising your life (chance would be a fine thing) but, only for the purposes of testing if it was possible. As there were only 3 people in the waiting room including me, the tear was very much audible. Where are screaming babies and rattly old ladies when you need them?

Decide that as I have given loads (well, at least 3) magazines to the GP's surgery over the 10 years, therefore its my divine right to get the article I am after.

They gladly hand me a pair of scissors, ask me what I am cutting out. I inform them. Cue 2 receptionists and 1 nurse plus me all crowded round one article. I think I reduced productivity to size ZERO for at least 10 minutes. About the same as my consultation with my Dr.

A good idea

My sister bought a horse with her first years salary. This year, she has bought a car. Her reasoning was, when she is not working, she is either in one or on the other. Sensible girl.

The Doctor

I actually think that the fifteen minutes I waited in the surgery, prior to my appointment was more helpful than the face to face with my GP. At least there I got a free recipie for courgette and parmesan relish.

Explained to my GP that I am having trouble sleeping. After a few general questions, he plonks a piece of paper in front of me asking me to fill it out. I advise him I have filled 3 such questionaiires out in the past 2 years, they are tests to see if you have post natal depression. One of the questions is "are you having trouble sleeping", I answer yes. Pass my answers back. I was slightly nervous as I looked at him examining the paper. It was like finding out you had failed an exam, but on one of those public notice boards with your peers making out that its "no biggie". He rips up the paper and cheerfully delcares I dont have post natal depression symptoms. Whooopie. I could have told him that (as could the previous 3 questionaiires).

Long and short of it is I am healthy. My forgetfulness and lack of sleep is due to tiredness of two young children. Funnily enough, I slept better last night. Unfortunately, I seem to have misplaced the recipie for courgette relish.

From now on, the only Doctor I will consult is the very yummy David Tennant.