tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-235387162024-03-07T07:46:49.699+00:00minkleberry and the mini-minksbarely managing to dress myselfUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger104125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538716.post-73420013023189738282007-01-30T16:29:00.000+00:002007-01-30T16:30:31.162+00:00I'm offto vox. Blogger sucks.<br /><a href="http://minks.vox.com/">http://minks.vox.com/</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538716.post-45622015371168778752007-01-30T08:20:00.000+00:002007-01-30T08:22:34.832+00:00"it was onlywhen I dyed my hair, plucked my eyebrows, washed up and evaded ww3 (opposing parties seriously engaged in some painting/drawing) when I realised I'd made it as an FTM*" <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />*<span style="font-size:85%;">Full Time Mum</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538716.post-18934297937394782342007-01-26T08:54:00.000+00:002007-01-26T08:59:08.902+00:00solid matter(sorry)<br />So, John took the day off and I stayed in bed and read a book.<br />Today I am feeling much better and a stone lighter.<br />I wouldn't recommend it as a weight loss plan, but it worked better than my willpower.<br />I have stayed (mostly) booze free, and other than aching kidneys, dry skin and frazzled hair, and neglected children, my January has been an abstinence success.<br />I intend to eat healthily, drink fresh fruit juices and pure protein (after I've finished this chocolate muffin)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538716.post-84280577007851962112007-01-24T09:11:00.000+00:002007-01-24T11:08:56.410+00:00sick of it (pun intended)The bug lingers. Probably the oysters I ate at Seth's birthday meal, according to the GP who has administered antibiotics and sent off a stool sample. One day I feel better, the next, worse. Its not life threatening or completely debilitating, but my energy is low and my reactions are sluggish. I am not keeping on top of the untidiness, easy tasks like making dinner, or getting them dressed are daunting. Every spilled drink and power struggle over a toy make me tearful.<br />I feel terrible. My fuse is very short, and they have both been shouted at numerous times over the last few weeks. Today Ezra had several tantrums (as usual) over getting dressed, and when I shouted at him in anger- he took himself off to our bed and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)">wee'd</span> in it. "Are you cross that Mummy shouted?" I asked despairingly. "Yes- so I did a wee in your bed and my pants!" You can't say fairer than that.<br />I need some help- I'd be signed off sick if I had a paying job. Sadly, there is no one who can cover my shift while I take to my bed.<br />These antibiotics better kick in soon- I solemnly vow to look after myself, eat more healthily and get more rest when I am feeling better.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538716.post-42020493107020364072007-01-18T15:14:00.000+00:002007-01-18T15:32:15.541+00:00interactionWe visited the health visitor today (who noticed my weight loss and commented on how healthy I look. I smiled- instead of telling her I feel deathly.)<br />Boys weighed and measured.<br />Ez has grown 2.5cms since the last measure up. Seth has grown, but not much. The irony being that Seth is exactly the same height that Ez was when he was one. I was tearing my hair out with worry at Ezzie's littledom, provoked by worrying HV's who scanned my behaviour for signs of cruelty and nutritional befuddlement.<br />I am not in the slightest bit worried about Seth. True he weighs more and will eat practically anything, but I am also an old hand now at spotting signs of 'health versus illness' and that boy is fit as a fiddle (he will now be struck down with some mystery illness)<br />I am aware that Seth has no interest in verbal communication. He can emit blood curdling screams on demand, and points at everything, but has lost all interest in babble. mama dada have disappeared. Other than some shushy whispers and grunts when he points, he is NOT BOTHERED.<br />It is wrong to compare, but it is inevitable, given that they are so similar in age- and they live in my house. At this age Ez was attempting to copy most words, he tried to sing the lyrics to songs and was proficient in calling Dad dadaaaa, by this stage. Seth is NOT BOTHERED.<br />There is evidence to suggest younger siblings speak later, so maybe it'll be a while before he gets going- I just wish he'd hurry up and get rid of that bloody scream. (which is so loud my neighbours upstairs have taken to banging on their floor. I will kill them the next time they dare)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538716.post-73211793085449129802007-01-17T16:32:00.000+00:002007-01-17T16:54:23.479+00:00men are from mars, women are from tootingThe stomach bug is taking its toll. The boys have square eyes and have eaten some interesting meals "you want an orange and a muffin and some cheese? fine. Seth you can have whatever I can cook in 2.5 seconds." Today they had bad food from a bad fast food chain for lunch.<br />The other day noone got dressed. Today Ezra is wearing a pyjama top and jeans (but no underpants) Seth did a poo in his nappy about 10 minutes ago but I'm working myself up to change him (I'll be sick straight after and I'm not relishing the prospect)<br />The rubbish bit about being a full time mum is being unable to phone in sick. Especially when your husband is in a new job and someone has flown in from the US especially to train him this week.<br />Thankfully, my husband takes over after the orange and muffin dinner and bathes the kids before reading them a story and hurling them into bed. He will then wash up and tidy the toys away, while I shiver on the sofa and read nursery application forms.<br />So, really he's a bit of a hero. But how dare he suggest going out straight after work on Friday night? What will I do? Leave the kids at the dinner table until they fall asleep? Bending over the bath might result in more vomiting.<br />I know, I'll leave them in their pyjamas again- that way there'll be no need to bath anyone, and noone will ever know.....Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538716.post-19389765924575258132007-01-16T08:27:00.000+00:002007-01-16T08:40:23.905+00:00holibobs and babsSince Seth's birthday I've been crook. A tummy bug (don't need to go into the sordid details) has taken the wind out of my sails and I'm starting to wonder whether a dose of antibiotics/probiotics might sort it out. I thought things were improving until I dared to eat something spicy last night. From about 1am I was up and down with a killer stomach ache and explosive pebbledashing. I'm still feeling unwelcome spasms and cannot leave the house for fear of being caught short.<br />The bad news- dehydration, cracked lips, and an inability to pick up and carry the lads.<br />The good news- loss of appetite, and a bit of weight loss.<br />Despite this, I've got 1 new front tooth (the other is temporary- I cant go into it because it wil make me cry.) It amazes me that I can survive all kinds of things, but vanity is killing me.<br />The most exciting news is an almost booked holiday. Abroad. We might well be paying it off into the next millenium, but I don't care- we all deserve a break.<br />And finally- nurseries. Closing date for applications is the 9th February. Its not going particularly well and has clarified our need to leave this place as soon as possible. The Dance Movement Therapy course might have to wait a little longer. Do you think I'll be taken seriously as a 70 year old newly qualified practitioner?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538716.post-78211028983503242732007-01-09T08:57:00.000+00:002007-01-09T18:52:52.842+00:00Outstanding achievementsSeth has been unsettled at night due to colds, fevers, coughing and spluttering and so to avoid waking Ez he has been back in our bed.<br />The result is we have discovered Ez can sleep until 7.30am. I am so excited about this development I can almost forget his tantrums, nagging and stubbornness. And he is now dry through the night. Everynight. No More Nappies! Hurrah!!<br />His speech is developing fast and conversations take on a whole new dimension. As he expresses his understanding of the world around I am by admiration, wonder and respect.<br />Meanwhile Pointy Seth has moved onto to pointing at things he wants, pointing to things he wants us to name, pointing to himself when he wants something. Occasionally I think I can hear words emerging, mostly he uses a complex system of screams, claps and pointing to make himself understood.<br />They remind me everyday how truly spectacular being a parent is. I must remember not to moan about being unable to afford those trousers, and that posh telly, and that mansion down the road, because I am so lucky to be around to experience these developments.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538716.post-90218519049753306042007-01-04T08:42:00.000+00:002007-01-04T15:48:00.689+00:00one<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsRFLtI68UGDK7KFd2Zqlr8krHSLgcpQ7HX2YFcbQN8rd7ZZZslB5l9FQJCEGerj_RlTzqNWJwxb4VUXvLVH-KHnUF8qViqDAL11CQB-0ouOR_CxYdpyiNsHl1HtZsl6uIgSQw/s1600-h/DSCF1489.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5016202493260300802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsRFLtI68UGDK7KFd2Zqlr8krHSLgcpQ7HX2YFcbQN8rd7ZZZslB5l9FQJCEGerj_RlTzqNWJwxb4VUXvLVH-KHnUF8qViqDAL11CQB-0ouOR_CxYdpyiNsHl1HtZsl6uIgSQw/s200/DSCF1489.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>On saturday Seth Jacob Arthur will be One. As if to accentuate his importance in our family he is currently teething, with an accompanying cold and fever and suffering from separation anxiety. He can't sleep, eat or be put down for more than a few minutes without screaming himself hoarse.<br />I could write a blog about his birth- the terror, horror, fear, joy (and that was just my waters breaking) but anyone who reads this will remember what happened. We don't need to go over the whole scary saga. Its fabulous that we're all alive, and infact, my stock reply to anyone who asks "how are you getting on?" has been "we're still alive." I mean it.<br />My other favourite phrases from this year include "please stop crying/whining/whinging" "Time Out!", "Do you want a cuddle?" and "I am so f***ing tired I could cry" (I frequently did).<br />Thanks to my fabulous friends for holding me above water- with a special squeeze for auntie Jo for being the best auntie and even better friend. And my Mummy for being The Greatest, and for keeping GNER in the black with her emergency trips to London.<br />We were going to host a birthday party. We're not now. There's no point, as Seth and I will just sob and cling to one another all the way through.<br />Instead we are going to celebrate the only way we know how-quietly- and with lashings of cake and chips (doesn't bode well for my diet.)</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538716.post-82390081197657568822007-01-02T08:21:00.000+00:002007-01-02T08:33:02.033+00:00ahhh 2007Apologies for the break in transmission. I was too busy drinking and eating to place my fingertips to the keys.<br />In summary- an excellent christmas at my Mum and Dad's. Much food, drink and merriment. A beautiful necklace from a posh shop for my birthday. A mountain of pressies for the lads, a spectacular t shirt for my husband.<br />I am 32. I have gained 5 pounds over the festive period. My youngest has begun to point and say. His favourite is "adad!" for the alpha- with whom he is currently besotted. Ezra is engaging in some fabulous imaginative play involving all his toys going into 'time outs' and then making friends again and declaring "now behave you lot!"<br />The most exciting news (or devastating depending on what hour of the day it is) is that I have declared myself a NO BOOZE ZONE for 6 weeks. To see if I can do it- but also to try and reduce the beer belly, I can no longer entirely blame on my two larroping lads.<br />My fake teeth are holding on by a thread and came off a few times over christmas. The sooner my dentist gets back and fixes some new ones the better.<br />I stayed in on NYE. Luckily I'd gotten obliterated at a party the previous day and so wasn't too sad to spend a quiet evening infront of the box.<br />So- onwards and upwards- whats going to happen this year, I wonder?<br />I'm hoping for a move, (hopefully) some further education, a new nursery, a more slender frame, a fresh outlook and some blinging front teeth.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538716.post-37723048320046150052006-12-20T13:58:00.000+00:002006-12-20T14:14:10.030+00:00my family and other animalsTeeth update: I attempted to floss and they <em>moved.</em> Gah!<br />It took me an hour to clear up this afternoon whilst the lads slumbered. Boys are messy filthy beasts who will only get messier and filthier as they grow. Its a bit off putting, so I'm thinking about trading them in for girls- or a Wii. I can't decide yet.<br />Despite my best attempts at tidiness, small guests still locate rotting fruit, lost bricks and vicks vapour rub ("I was worried it might be in his eyes" Jo mentioned, recalling how she's seen the worlds biggest bogey on Seth's head- only to discover the globs' menthol origin.)<br />The good news is that the smell of urine and damp and sweat and poo will lessen now our NEW WASHING MACHINE has arrived. The pile threatening to block our view from the windows will soon go down. It is to be plumbed in about three hours.<br />Our lovely landlord announced that it'd cost him a bomb. I can't help it if the repair man he brought round to the house buggered off with the electrics gadget thing, promising to replace it- then left the country. <br /><em></em>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538716.post-62356070730532103332006-12-19T15:49:00.000+00:002006-12-19T15:53:24.961+00:00I can't talk about my temporary teethother than to say they hurt- they're covered in glue and it makes me look like I havent brushed me teeth in months, and my proper veneers will not be fitted until the 11th January. <br />The lads are slowly improving healthwise. Our washing machine is still on the blink. I haven't managed to get to the gym more than twice in a week for a month.<br />Still- there's all that festive food and booze to look forward. Oh, and this year *gasp* rumour has it my husband has bought me a birthday present.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538716.post-65172835603276669762006-12-14T17:28:00.000+00:002006-12-14T17:44:17.388+00:00phfhfhfhfhfhhfhffhfhhf!John took Seth to A&E yesterday morning. He's had a fever for a few days, a hacking cough for ever and was breathing a bit too rapid for our liking.<br />He came home a few hours later with some antibiotics, two new inhalers and a "virus". <br />Seems Seth may've inherited the same lungs as Ez. So at present, breakfast and dinner look like drug time in the hospital. Our children breathe into matching spacers, with multicoloured inhalers and we spend most nights listening for wheezing and coughing (or no wheezing and coughing- and indeed breath.) Syrupy synthetic fruit flavoured medicines are spooned and syringed into their mouths, and as neither has much of an appetite at the moment- they'll probably be shocked to taste real food when they're well again. Plus I'm topping them up with fresh fruit juice and vitimins. <br />They're mostly caged, playing with their toys and watching DVD's as its bitter outside and a trip to the swings leaves them both tearful. Except when I'm dragging them around the supermarket or (indoor) shopping mall.<br />These bloody viruses are ravaging my children. My mother-in-law is starting to question our living conditions (is your house damp?) and I am torn between getting on with life and hysteria. <br />In addition to my children's ill health, our washing machine is broken, John's lost his mobile phone and I don't have a pair of shoes to wear tomorrow night for my birthday night out with my gals.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538716.post-35831113095112380042006-12-11T19:42:00.000+00:002006-12-11T19:54:12.341+00:00one filling laterHaving carried both children (one in a pram) up two flights of stairs, I arrived- panting, in the Dentists surgery. <br />He greeted me warmly, was kind to the lads and offered me a seat in the big chair. <br />I blurted that I probably had a cavity, and he swiftly confirmed that I was right.<br />He checked the rest of the pegs and announced that the rest of them were in good nick. "well done" he smiled. I would've felt patronised if I wasn't such a praise junkie. And so very relieved.<br />"Do you have time for me to fix the tooth now?" he asked.<br />"That would be fantastic" I replied.<br />Ez watched open mouthed and frozen, as the dental wizz injected my gum (it didn't hurt a bit!) and filled the tooth in minutes. The man's a genius. Whilst doing so he put on a light show and sprayed water in the air to entertain the lads. 10 minutes later, it was all over. <br />I leapt from the chair as he softly mentioned I sould think about new veneers. <br />"Come back in the new year and we'll sort them out"<br />"Erm, my maternity exemption runs out at the end of this month" I blurted- burning with embarassment. <br />"It seems silly for you to start paying now. We'll consider it a continuation of the treatment you're receiving and we'll do them for free" <br />"I love you" I swooned, and kissed him passionately*<br /><br /><br />*The loving and kissing might be a slight exaggeration.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538716.post-43892375323588577032006-12-08T16:42:00.000+00:002006-12-08T17:07:01.490+00:00being lefthandedAahhh, I feel much better now my blog is the right way around. All that right hand clicking business was driving me bonkers.<br />So, I tried on my wedding dress today. Don't ask me why- I haven't so much as looked at it since 07 April 2001 when I slapped it on a hanger and flung it in the wardrobe. <br />Its a two piece- a bodice and a big skirt, which is- incidentally- filthy. Anyhoo, something unusual occurred. Firstly, the skirt fitted perfectly. Queue smug dancing around the room before tripping over the train. The bodice- however. I couldn't fasten up the bodice. As a young bride, it was the the bodice that was a tad roomy. I also remember my boobs looking saggy and the whole thing turning itself around more than once (it was strapless, for anyone who now thinks I'm some sort of fabulous contortionist.)<br />My backside has always been my biggest bit, but since having children there's been a balancing of the elements. <br />My boobs and bum now match. Fancy that? I've still got a sack of leftover skin around my abdomen, but hey- we can't all be Geri "How I lost my pregnany pounds" Halliwell (and bloody hell, who'd want to?) And with my appetite for beers wines and spirits, rich food and chocolate, its pantygirdles all the way for me.<br />I remember feeling fat on my wedding day. I looked in the mirror and thought "I wish I'd gone on a diet like other brides." <br />When I look back at the photos of our wedding day, I just see two very young, happy people. I no longer look fat on that day and I've been much fatter since (one can never be fatter that almost 10 months pregnant.) <br />It reminds me of that wierd track, or advert, or poem by someone at some point in the last century, that says "you will never look this young and this slim ever again." <br />When I saw myself in my wedding dress today (I eventually fastened the bodice by holding my breath and standing very still)I saw an older, slimmer woman than the one I was before. The same outfit, an entirely different perception of my body. <br />Only two weeks to my 32nd birthday.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538716.post-37581482074736831972006-12-06T13:02:00.000+00:002006-12-06T13:24:31.409+00:00wooden teeth and christmas whatnotI'm not sure my liver can take much more alcohol abuse. I've been quaffing huge vats of booze, and with christmas coming, I will probably quaff lots more. If I don't die from alcohol poisoning, I'll be drying out in January. This blog may become a very dark and miserable place (What? even more misery you say? Can we take it?)<br />Oh, and my teeth are about to fall out. <br />I have an aversion to dentists and the accompanying dentistry. A collision with a see saw, a fondness for my thumb, and an inherited overbite meant that I spent a lot of time in pain in the dentists chair as a child. Once the braces were off and the veneers were fitted- I vowed never to visit the dentist again. That was 17 ish years ago. I have been since, but sporadically- and always when I'm desperate. <br />Its ridiculous considering I have been entitled to free dental health care for over a year now. The last time I saw my dentist (in 2004) she suggested that I might need new veneers. She quoted me an astronomical price for posh new teeth and I promptly ignored her suggestion and vowed never to visit again (again) <br />Now my veneer covered front teeth are feeling a bit 'sensitive' and on closer inspection it appears there's either a huge cavity- or one tooth has finally given up and died.<br />So- with less that three weeks free dentristry left I am in a mad panic to get my teeth fixed up. My worst nightmare is that the veneers need to be removed and by some quirky twist of fate I'll have to roam the christmas streets with my broken stumps on display for all to see. Or even worse- that the stumps have to be removed all together leaving me-gulp- front toothless for Christmas. Why am I not more sensible, instead of being wierd and scared. It'll be my own fault if I'm the drunk gappy gobbed one drooling at the dinner table. <br /><br /><br />Oh, go on then "all I want for christmas is my two front teeth........."Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538716.post-6126628568155856362006-12-01T08:07:00.000+00:002006-12-01T08:27:43.771+00:00only 30 days left till this annus horribilisis closesI am relieved, and a little anxious about what else can be chucked our way before the end of the year. <br />I keep mentally checking off my loved ones. My sister has (almost) sold her house and moved on from a traumatic and challenging time which has lasted over a year now. (and if I ever see her ex, he'd better run, because if I catch him I'll breaking his legs) <br />Mum and Dad are doing well-ish. They're hosting Christmas with one daughter and the entire contents of her house, and the other daughter with the entire contents of her family under one roof. Plus they're redecorating, and Mum's awaiting another appointment to get the trigeminal neuralgia zapped. Despite this, we know that Father Christmas has already been to the house to size up the chimney, and the lads will probably drown in presents and treats. <br />Nan and Grandad will be at Mum and Dad's for Christmas, and are currently living in a home filled with techno-gadgetry. I'm sure they are the only great grandparents who have an ipod. Grandad's in heaven. I expect Nan is fed up of dusting (whilst listening to said ipod).<br />My friend's baby is due in a few weeks, and despite a scare a few weeks ago, is growing her little girl with aplomb (and looks particularly beautiful as a pregnant person.) <br />The last time I spoke to Jo, she was panicking over a lack of commissions. I recommended a well earned rest- No doubt she is swamped with deadlines by now! Her son El is a superhero obsessed hunk of gorgeousness. He is a giant, has a haircut to die for, and is fast becoming a world class chatterbox. <br />One friend is on the verge of something exciting and dangerous. I hope she finds some peace once its done.<br />Everyone else is ticking along nicely, I believe. Lets all hold hands and keep our heads down till five past 12.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538716.post-69827494142771288502006-11-30T16:17:00.000+00:002006-11-30T16:30:17.085+00:00the rollercoaster that is our healthToday I decided that Seth's hacking cough had gone on for long enough, and booked him in to see our GP. GP listened to his chest and decided his tubes were inflamed and crackly, and prescribed an atrovent inhaler. We're experts in the use of spacers and puffers, and Ez was eager to share the joy with his little brother. "Now you're a big boy, you can have a puffer too." I rang my Mum to update her and she suggested that taking them out near-naked in the cold might be the cause of my children's inadequate tubes. Only my Mum would get away with a quip like that- anyone else would be extracting a spacer from a very tight space!<br />We popped to see the Health Visitor whilst we were there, and Seth is growing steadily. Ezra has not grown since september. Alert! Alert! (again). She suggested we refer him privately once and push for a definitive answer on his slow and sporadic growth. Once John's health cover kicks in, we might be able to stretch to that. <br />On the way back I vowed to feed them both organic veg and pure protein until obesity is the new diagnosis- however, I know that blaming my poor parenting and vowing to change isn't going to solve this one. <br />I've been worried about Ezra's growth since he was six months old. As my Mum said "we've got small genes" and its very true- my cousins on my dad's side are positively miniature, but still -I'd like to know that it is just small genes and not something darker and more insidious.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538716.post-85283293584314648992006-11-28T16:22:00.000+00:002006-11-28T16:45:28.549+00:00mother knows best, so stop thinking otherwise<a href="http://www.norahhh.blogs.com/let_there_be_another_leaf/">norah's</a> blog won't let me leave comments anymore. I'm feeling slightly paranoid about this, but I'm going to keep it to myself. <br />Seth, John and I had a three way standoff last night. Seth informed us he would prefer to sleep in our bed than his own, John agreed that letting him share out bed would be preferential to listening to his ear splitting three octave vibrato cry. Being the Evil Dictator of The Minkleberry State I decreed that everyone would sleep in their own bed until I decided otherwise.<br />At first John ignored me and kept popping in to comfort Seth and hopefully lull him to sleep. He loved being rocked and purred contentedly in his Daddy's arms, the minute his bum touched mattress he screeched once more- filled with rage. Silly mistake- never confuse a 10 months old rage cry with a sad, ill, terrified or lonely cry. Two hours later they were repeating the same pattern. Fools.<br />Eventually, after many insults, swearing and evil eyes, everyone to their separate quarters (well, actually, John sat in the bathroom with his fingers in his ears.) Five minutes later the wailing stopped.<br />Because it always does.<br />Mother knows best (hi five to myself and every other mother out there)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538716.post-5327481945370177792006-11-23T08:15:00.000+00:002006-11-23T16:04:46.172+00:00twenty separated socksTwenty singles. I'm worried my washing machine is going to choke on all the odds that must be caught up in there somewhere.<br />We've also lost three knives and two forks. Where are they?<br />You might guess I'm having a bit of a clear out/clear up which means I'm still functioning on at least six hours sleep. I would do a happy dance if I weren't so busy ignoring my children so I can clear out my cupboards Oh, hang on- I did do a particularly terrible impression of Robbie Williams dancing in the Back for Good video the other night.<br />The swaggering was at a children's book evening, organised at a friend's house. Like Tuppaware and Anne Summers but without the repression and competition.<br />One minute we were flicking through Welsh flashcards, discussing the merits of learning French, sipping wine and (I was) nibbling on crudites. The next we were arseholed and jumping around the room like deranged teens. (Hence the Robbie impression.) Now thats my kind of parents evening.<br />The following morning I trotted off to the gym and flung the boys in the creche. After 30 minutes of near cardiac arrest (and a strong whiff of pinot grigio) I admitted defeat/dehydration and scooped them up hoping my wine fumes wouldn't floor the childcarers and alert social services.<br />Still, I feel pretty perky today following another night of shut eye and can even comprehend activities other than trudging in dark glasses around the common and lying down on a bouncy castle.<br />Next week the kids are coming round to make christmas decorations.<br />I know.<br />I feel positively Anthea-like, but without the millions, ugly husband and white jeans.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538716.post-21830346486966817252006-11-21T08:02:00.000+00:002006-11-21T08:10:08.782+00:00boringMy blog is not only boring but maudlin. Reading it is making me want to jump out of the window, so I can only imagine that anyone who pops in here is getting sick and tired of all the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)">bleugh</span>!.<br />So- reasons to be grateful;<br />1. Obviously- two <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)">blonde</span> bombshells<br />2. Leopard print mini dresses. I may look like mutton, but its leaner mutton.<br />3. New jobs- rent paid, bills paid, Father Christmas well stocked.<br />4. Christmas at my Mum and Dad's. 3 starters, three types of meat and my body weight in potatoes. Bliss.<br />5. Childcare vouchers. Could Ezra finally be getting his wish to go to Nursery?. "When I'm three, I go to school with the other <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)">childrens</span>" <br />6. Dean <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)">Gaffney</span>. His live <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">bush tucker</span> trial was the funniest thing I have ever seen. ever.<br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)">That'll</span> keep me going for now.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538716.post-78791199554402719512006-11-20T07:23:00.000+00:002006-11-20T07:46:36.368+00:00you don't know meI'm a Mum who on two consecutive nights has slept for 7 hours. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)">Thats</span> right- with the occasional whimper and toilet break, I have been asleep in my bed for 7 hours. Last night it was almost 8 hours. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)">Thats</span> right ASLEEP.<br />You'd think I'd feel <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)">rejuvinated</span> and refreshed. I actually feel exhausted and my body aches. Years of sleep deprivation- they will take a while to get over.<br />Still, Seth has been sleeping through the night for over a week. We can't believe our luck, considering Ezra was still getting up two or three times a night just a few days before I gave <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)">birth</span> to Seth. <br />We also know it might not last, which makes it all the more delicious.<br />My midlife crisis continues but less dramatically (more sleep offering perspective perhaps).<br />I also had an abrupt <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)">wak eup</span> call when I caused a huge row with my friend over things that happened years ago. I said some terrible things about how I felt at the time but absolutely don't feel now. We have moved on and moved through. I have a deeper understanding the past, and we have grown up a lot since that time. <br />However, it was just like I'd stepped back in time, and was transported back to the young selfish and hurt girl I was then- and it was also cruel and mean.<br />It reminded me that I need to be alert, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">conscientious</span> aware. Its been a strange year and I'll be glad when its over.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538716.post-44023334036360909872006-11-14T10:41:00.000+00:002006-11-14T11:05:20.034+00:00pre- birthday angstThe last few birthdays have passed without much drama. I haven't had time to beat my chest and wail at the moon. I've been too busy being pregnant, or celebrating the end of lactation, or being pregnant.<br />So, with a few weeks to go before my 32nd birthday, I've realised that I'm preoccupied with my lost youth, my changed body, my bad decisions, my creaking bones and my aching joints.<br />Yes, I know- I should've done all this three years ago- but I was too busy being pregnant (and so on).<br />Its all so self indulgent- <em>oh, wallow, wallow. waaaaah waaaah</em>. I can just hear people I know reading this, and saying "I wish I had time to worry about such nonsense. At your age I was too busy raising 18 kids down't pit, whilst cooking a meal from nowt but a tatty and a bit a bread dipped round't sink."<br />I'd tell me to pull myself together if I weren't so busy '<em>waaaah waaaahing'</em><br />I'm spending most nights tossing and turning. Did I make the right choice? Should I've said that? Or not said this? Have I been too safe? Too daring? Too selfish?<br />I've reverted to my former teen self. Short of a pair of Doc Martins and and some Happy Mondays, I could be a sullen, petulant 15 year old all over again.<br />To all of you who have been there and done that- Its my go. I'll see you on the other side of my turgid misery.<br />So there.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538716.post-1163169711621756592006-11-10T14:28:00.000+00:002006-11-11T09:35:24.695+00:00I've still got a twinkle in my eyeYesterday I visited my past for a few hours. We talked of old memories and I was impressed that my recollections are not the only ones to be rose-tinted.<br />When I think of my late teens, I remember feeling out of control a teensy bit hysterical most of the time. It appears I hid the mania quite well.<br />Elsewhere, John starts his new job next week so he is at home. This is good, in that I get to visit my past and blog without guilt. Oh, and we can all spend time together too. Its bad in that he gets under my feet and on my nerves.<br />Seth is getting more teeth and seems to've moved into our bed permanently. He has a fierce temper and can scream like he is being murdered when we try and return him.<br />Ezra is jealous about our cosleeping and I can't blame him. However, 10 minutes squeezed between the three of us drives him back to his own bed.<br />Tonight John is going to trip the light fantastic with his ex colleagues. His ex employers are paying. I'd consider it a weakness if he came home before dawn. <br />I intend to have the boys asleep by 7pm and be in bed by myself by five past.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23538716.post-1162934307270032182006-11-07T21:15:00.000+00:002006-11-11T09:35:24.472+00:00voila!I am blogging from the desk of professional journalist and professional friend Jojo. I am babysitting for her adorable sleeping son and consuming all her booze and food. (Her keyboard is so overworked that the keys no longer have their letters inked. They've been quite literally typed away.) <br />I'm just popping in to spread the news. Like magic, and after less than one day unemployed, John has snaffled a better job earning more brass and with better benefits. There's even a view of the thames thrown in.<br />Now there's some good tidings for ya.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9