my family and other animals

Teeth update: I attempted to floss and they moved. Gah!
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.
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.)
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.
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.

I can't talk about my temporary teeth

other 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.
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.
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.

phfhfhfhfhfhhfhffhfhhf!

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.
He came home a few hours later with some antibiotics, two new inhalers and a "virus".
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.
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.
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.
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.

one filling later

Having carried both children (one in a pram) up two flights of stairs, I arrived- panting, in the Dentists surgery.
He greeted me warmly, was kind to the lads and offered me a seat in the big chair.
I blurted that I probably had a cavity, and he swiftly confirmed that I was right.
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.
"Do you have time for me to fix the tooth now?" he asked.
"That would be fantastic" I replied.
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.
I leapt from the chair as he softly mentioned I sould think about new veneers.
"Come back in the new year and we'll sort them out"
"Erm, my maternity exemption runs out at the end of this month" I blurted- burning with embarassment.
"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"
"I love you" I swooned, and kissed him passionately*


*The loving and kissing might be a slight exaggeration.

being lefthanded

Aahhh, I feel much better now my blog is the right way around. All that right hand clicking business was driving me bonkers.
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.
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.)
My backside has always been my biggest bit, but since having children there's been a balancing of the elements.
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.
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."
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.)
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."
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.
Only two weeks to my 32nd birthday.

wooden teeth and christmas whatnot

I'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?)
Oh, and my teeth are about to fall out.
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.
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)
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.
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.


Oh, go on then "all I want for christmas is my two front teeth........."

only 30 days left till this annus horribilisis closes

I am relieved, and a little anxious about what else can be chucked our way before the end of the year.
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)
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.
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).
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.)
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.
One friend is on the verge of something exciting and dangerous. I hope she finds some peace once its done.
Everyone else is ticking along nicely, I believe. Lets all hold hands and keep our heads down till five past 12.