Shakedown Cruise

I am going back to work soon. This means that I will have the logistical challenge of dropping two kids off at nursery before driving ½ hour to work. Silly me, thought I would give it a trial run today, aka shakedown cruise

Getting two incessantly wriggly and niggly kids dressed was a marvel, only outdone by my inventiveness of shutting all the doors in the hallway to stop any escape attempts whilst I put my coat on. Upon realising I was actually still wearing my pjamas, I retreated for a quick change that any model would be proud of. Whilst I changed, they were in the living room, fighting over a crumpled bit of cardboard. Apparently the lack of playing time with cardboard hurt my toddlers feelings. Cue major hissy fit. The only option was to promise him that I would take it to the car, so he could enjoy the “toy” for the journey to the nursery.

Gather Madams bag, my handbag, boys rucksack, baby in one arm, toddler loosely hanging onto the other hand. Out we shuffle. Upon reaching the end of the driveway, toddler announces he needs a wee. Tell him I will take him back to the house. Apparently this is not good enough, he wants to do a wee in our flowerbed. I have no objections to this. Having told toddler to wait whilst I put baby in car seat, he then proceeds to run down the street. Put baby in car seat. Run after toddler and retrieve him.

Apparently, it takes the boy A LOT longer to do a wee outside. So for about 5 mins, I am holding him, whilst singing to the baby, who sternly objects to being in the car seat and not actually going anywhere. So wee finished off (with obligarory clap) put toddler into his car seat. Start to reverse car out then realise baby is not strapped in. Rectify my folly.

Toddler mangles cardboard on the way to nursery, whilst I sing and make actions to all the nursery rhymes in my repertoire, for the baby, to try and keep her awake.

Once I park up, it transpires that toddler does not actually want to go to nursery. Cue 10 mins of cajoling and negotiating, all the while I am parked illegally in a tow away zone.

Once baby is safely in pushchair, I decide that as toddler is really not playing ball, I will have to man handle him. Cue me running across to the nursery with toddler thrashing and screaming under my arm. Luckily he settles down (apparently he did not hold a grudge as later when asked what makes you happy, he replied “my mummy” – aaah!). I had to put on oscar winning performance of being calm and serene, so as to be able to leave baby with her key worker for 3.5 hours. This is the first time someone outside our family has looked after her during the day.

By the time I leave the nursery, I am dreaming of crawling into any old storage cupboard, rocking back and forth. Shakedown cruise result – managed ok, room for improvement, thank god I did not pay full price!!!

And the diagnosis is...

german measles. Totaly left field that one. Turns out the big lumps on the back of her head which appeared are classic symptoms. Poor MLP, all she wants to do is become the human filling in a sandwich consisting of me and her cashmere jumper. Apparently as its so rare to contract it, she is going to be a statistic. Whoo hoo. Oh yes, also, you can only catch it after your first birthday, which is why the MMR vaccine is at 13 months. Her first bday was two and a bit weeks ago. Incubation period is at least two weeks. Guess she must have received it as an alternartive bday present from Dark Angel. I hope he / she does not expect a thank you note.

Interesting Weekend

Luckily all four of us have a sense of humour. SoH came in very handy this weekend. The general decline started on Friday, when I tried to conduct a conversation with our landscaper. I was trying to complain to him about our lawn dying. I emphasise trying because its impossible to even have an iota of concentration when 2 kids are about. MLP (my little princess) was screetching due to tiredness and general irritability at not having eaten in two hours. She demanded to be held and did not take kindly to being put on the grass as I tried to conduct conversation. Cajoling her with random pieces of fruit did not work, in actual fact it made her more angry. The boy kept disappearing into the garage, then reappeared waving random objects he had managed to get his hands on. When he appeared with saw in hand, I had to take action and lock him out of the garage. Cue hissy fit. Holding two “protesting” kids at once is quite challenging.

I had approximately 25 mins left, after landscaper made his excuses, to cook and feed two kids, then race over to Dr for injections for MLP. Whilst I am holding MLP still for her inevitable screaming following the insertion of an incredibly big needle in her arm, the boy is busy ripping the couch roll from the doctors examination bed. Muttering apologies, we rush out of the surgery.

Within a few hours MLP has developed a fever. She does not want to sleep, or eat just lie on me clutching her cashmere jumper. Cooking with child draped seems normal these days. We had cashmere flavoured steak and veggies, as everytime I tried to brush the offending jumper out of the way when cutting or cooking, MLP flicked it back. Needless to say, due to her lack of appetite she did not feel the need to partake of cashmere flavoured feast.

Cue high fever and high pitched crying instead of screaming for the next 24 hours. Poor kiddie.

Fast forward to me getting Sunday lunch ready. As I am chopping the veggies I smell burning. Upon closer investigation I notice that the chopping boards placed next to the hob are melting. I only own (sorry, owned) 3 chopping boards, all plastic. As I whip the chopping boards away from the heat, melted strands of plastic cover the kitchen. In my haste I find that I have placed the melting chopping boards on the freshly chopped veg. Veg and chopping boards have amalgamated. My new creation looked really pretty, a partially melted, bejewled chopping board with organic jewels! Threw out my new creation into the bin and thought no more about it. Until the bin started smoking. I resolved this by throwing a cup of water in there and carried on with peeling a new batch of veggies.

Had a great time with our friends, although I could not fully relax as I was worried about MLP as she had developed spots on her torso. The boy adds to my worried state as he falls over scratching his face on a fence. There is a large mark above and below his eye.

After guests left, MLP got REALLY tetchy, madly scratching the side of her head, yelping in pain. I decided to call NHS Direct. Having described her symptoms they thought I should call my GP as it was “….highly worrying that she has these symptoms, especially after a vaccination, for meningitis”….Duly call GP’s out of hours service. They say that we should take her to A&E as there is an emergency Dr surgery there.

Needless to say, we were a little bit worried at that stage. Arriving at A&E, my nerves are further stretched, when upon stating who we are we, they say we have been expecting you. MLP just hugs her cashmere jumper and smiles weakly at me. I try to calm myself by deciding what my fav ABBA song is. Decide as elation is called for it should be Super Trouper “smiling, laughing having fun, feeling like a number one”

The Dr examines her, (all the while he is doing this, my son keeps loudly repeating “roll, want my roll”, as in the mad rush to leave the house, I put the remnants of his roast dinner into a roll, which, we explain over and over has been left in the car!) states that she does not have meningitis, but she does have a viral infection. We leave from the consultation prescription in hand, very thankful. We have to take her for a checkup with our normal GP in a few days.

Today we were back at the hospital, planned visit this time, as the boy had an appointment with the eye dr. Today, it was MLP’s turn to try and get some attention as she cried all the way through his appointment.

Tea or Opening Ceremony?

Spectacular as the Olympic opening ceremony was, it does not compare to the one cup marvel which offered to me by Eva. Real Jasmine flower tea. I think you have to experience it through a glass mug. Upon being immersed in boiling water the flower opens to reveal 4 seperate, colourful segments. The stem (of clover - Eva, or was I just dreaming?) is soo pretty that its a shame to drink it. Its like drinking an ornate paperweight. Thanks Eva, it was lovely!

Here is a link to one

this weekend it will happen.

I am going to set the table with paper plates, plastic cups and cutlery. I will also push the boat out with a paper table cloth. Once we have finished eating, I will just gather the tablecloth up, and throw it all in the bin.

I have been dreaming of doing this for a long long time......

Rules of the holiday

For every holiday we have had in the last 10 years there are the following unspoken rules:

1. Stuart will want to start some long forgotten DIY project just days before the holiday. This will not only result in all the packed clothes, but all his good clothes being covered in grease, plaster, grime, dust or all of the above. He will get thoroughly stressed and then tell me he needs a holiday.

2. We will need to buy plug converters. At least two. Then resolve ourselves to leaving them in a safe place in flat in Bp. Forget where the safe place is.

3. We will need to buy mini padlocks for the cases. This is obviously because we are transporting the Star of Arica in our luggage. I will take ownership of the locks, put them in my purse. Get to departure lounge, decide its not a safe enough place and then put them somewhere totally unsafe.

4. Stuart will take out all the clothes I have packed for myself, if we are going to Bp. He tells me I have too much stuff out there already and should wear those clothes. I protest telling him I cannot think what I have out there. We get to Bp, turns out that my stored "rags" are either maternity or breastfeeding clothing. So I either look like I am wearing a marquee or a tent. Then have to wear my grannies clothing, which is petite, so I end up looking like a short, Laura Ashley wallpaper encrusted marquee.

I think the solution is to go to a minimalist nudist camp for our next hoiday. That way, no packing, no mini padlocks.....

How about.....

you get a payrise, go on maternity leave, come back pregnant, go on maternity leave again, ask for a payrise. Then get one. Unbelievable. So happy I went and actually bought a read CD from a real shop.

Answers to Question

Rules:

post the rules first

answer all the questions

send on challenge to other bloggers

when you have posted your answers let the person who challenged you know

Name 5 things on your to do list today:

finish my book "Promise of Happiness". Pleased to report it completely and utterly finished. Shame about the plot in the last third of the book but at least I am in double figures for books this year! whoo hoo

have lunch with Beata et al. Check. Looking good this.

Wash my hair. Failed that one. Whoops.

Finish off holiday washing. Fail.

Get the telescope out. Fail due to weather.

Cook the duck. Delegated to Stuart. Done. Was deeelicious!

What did you do 10 years ago?

Prob just back from Bali to find that my Grandfather was dying and needed to go back to Hungary to help out my Gran. Had to have a massive arguement with work to get the time off, which did not help matters.

Places you have lived?

Budapest - 5 years
Vienna - 2.5 years
Moscow 4 months (this was unplanned, thanks to whoever stole all my id documents in moscow. Wasnt bad though, I loved in a 5 star hotel, free of charge. Hard life)
Brighton - 20 years
Croydon - about 3 years. Right next door to the infamous Bird Hurst Rise murderer.

Five things you would do if you were a billionaire?

pay off debts - Eva, I am with you on that one.

Buy a library and sit there reading until my toenails curled over.

A trip to the international space station, sans kids

Visit poorer countries and give a months interest from my money to each good cause.

Buy a shed load of hats and hand them out to parents who take their kids out in the winter without one. Sad arent I?

People you want to know more about:

Newton. have bought a book on him and have had it for donkeys years, never read it. Maybe that should go on my todo list for tomm.

The sour faced dwarf woman at the nursery. Want to know what her problem actually is, other than having to breathe.....

The people that invented cricket. Surely they did not have anything to do on a rainy day?

Under the Frog

I loooooved it. I have not laughed out loud so much at a book in years. I think its because I have rellies in the provinces who are exacly like the characters in the book. Which is why I think the author has not only been to Budapest but lived there as a young man. I will try to read the Hungarian version but it will take me a while....

OLP

Our little princess (as she is known), turned one whilst we were on holiday. We celebrated it with copious amounts of cake, langos (savoury donught topped with garlic butter, crème fraiche and cheese), a trip to the zoo and a helium balloon!

Childrens Railway

Childrens railway

There is a narrow gauge railway in hills of Budapest, I think it runs for approx 15 km, and it is staffed by kids. Adults drive the trains but the staff are the outstanding pupils selected from the cities schools. Anyone without straight A grades for the last 3 years need not apply. The railway is about 60 years old and set up by the Russians.

As the staff don’t speak English, I had to order the tickets and enquire about train times, return times etc. It must have been something about the approx 10 year old girl dressed in uniform, which muddled my brain. Whatever she said I could not understand as I thought it was just too freaky to see kids in uniform saluting the trains. I must have asked about the train times at least four times. Nothing she said was being absorbed by my grey matter, apart from the endless mantra of “that kid is wearing a uniform and its freaking me out”. Hubby came over and asked me if I felt alright.

I spent the two train journeys watching every move the staff kids made. I don’t know what it was, it was just a bit unnatural seeing them in uniforms. Kept thinking I was in an episode of Dr Who and the kids are super intelligent alien forms about to eat me and the kids for dinner. Despite the beautiful scenery and the intoxicating diesel fumes (they don’t exactly worry about the carbon footprint) I felt very uneasy.

Unexploded Bomb

Our last full day of the holiday approached, we needed to get back to Budapest to drop of all kiddie related stuff and pack (again). One of our rellies rang and as we were signing off they checked that we were not about to head upto the city. We replied yes. They laughed and said that they wished us luck as the district that we lived in had a massive bomb alert. We assumed they meant the airport, thought no more about it and decided to go home.

Wrong decision. It was at least 35 degrees and upon arriving in our district we found it to be full of police. It turns out that the bomb was a German WW2 bomb and had about 2 tonnes of explosives primed and ready to wreak havoc. It was capable of killing everyone within a 500 meter radius. Some 15000 people were told to leave their homes, we were not allowed to park near the house (handy when you have an estate car full of stuff you need for the kids, eg travel cots, high chair blah blah). At one stage we did not even want to go into the house as we were told we may have to leave.



Decided to go for lunch at a beer keller to cool off. At 5pm things were still not resolved so we decided to go into the house and get the kids ready for bed.

It turns out that the bomb was actually located at a disused mill, my granny and her friends used to get their bread from until the 1980’s. Ironically, my grannies best friend used to get up at 4:30 am to get the first batch of bread from the mill twice a week. My granny always told her friend to stop rushing there as it would kill her one day!

The bomb was encased in concrete, with only 60cm’s protruding, proving rather difficult for the bomb disposal experts to work with.

As an aside, the block where our flat is has two internal courtyards. I was always sent down to one of the courtyards to play, when I got cabin fever. A few years ago, they found an unexploded mine in the very courtyard where I skipped and kicked a ball around! My hubby sometimes refers to me as a cockroach (able to survive anything).

By 9pm, it turned out that the bomb has actually been made safe after the war, but the Budapest authorities had lost the paperwork……. The police were then entrusted with stopping looting from the empty properties.

Mad Goat

There are certain things that no aspect of child rearing prepares you for. I would say entering a goat petting pen never struck me as being particularly dangerous. That’s probably why I chose to enter the pen the hard way. I thought that the only way to enter the pen was via a long ladder. I hauled myself and the boy over the ladder. Me being spectacularly afraid of heights did not make this any easier, and the boy weighs also lot. This, combined with the fact that the boy was not particularly enthralled at having to enter a pen full of inquisitive goats, made the achievement at getting into the pen a big thing for me. This was until Hubby (who was almost bent double with hysterical laughter at my “scaling” of the ladder with the boy) pointed out the gate into the pen.

I ignored his laughter and decided to concentrate on selecting a friendly goat which my son could stroke. I did not need to look far, as we were surrounded by them. They were incredibly friendly and did not mind being stroked.

They also decided to try to eat my new linen trousers. I laughed and said “give it back please” whilst tugging at my trousers. The goat did not oblige, and some more goats decided to encircle us. My boy started to become mildly alarmed. I tried to make light of the situation and said we were going leave and have an icecream. Clearly the goats had other ideas. By the time I picked the boy up and tried to stumble out of the petting pen, the little critters were not only chewing my trousers but were guzzling down my cardigan cord. I yanked the cord as fast and hard as I could, I must have residue of stomach enzymes on it as it stank. I tried to look calm and unflustered as the gate of the pen swung closed, but it was very hard. I spent the next five minutes mentally cooking goat stew out of the offending animals!!!