Rain check

Today has been a bit of a non-starter. We had plans to FINALLY meet up with Eco-Mum so our crazy, long-haired toddlers could burn off some steam at the park, she could play with Baby and I could sit and sniff her newborn's head! The nasty colds and bugs that have been circulating both of the boys' nurseries has meant that 4/5 playdates have been rearranged or rescheduled and today was finally going to be the day...
Until Toddler woke up looking like Quasimodo with an allergic reaction. FFS.
My gut reaction was allergies. It looked like it always does when something disagrees with him, but after two doses of Piriton there was no visible change so then I started suspecting 'slap-cheek', in which case I didn't particularly want to head out for the whole day in case he deteriorated quickly, not least in the company of an infant. So we had to cancel, again.
The upside to this misfortune was threefold. We got an appointment at the doctors within 3 hours (this is unheard of!) Baby cracked the lunchtime nap on day 5 of me putting my foot down and slept for a blissful 2 hours (by which time I was kinda bored and standing around outside the nursery door waiting for movement) and we got to nip over to BFF's house this afternoon for coffee which is always fun. So you know, every red and puffy cloud...
Husband is out on yet another work do. I'm sure he fabricates colleagues, drops their names into conversation casually for a few weeks then announces they're leaving so he must join them for drinks. I reckon if I actually went to his office unannounced there'd be no-one there but him and 2 decrepit old guys who have never heard of half the people he socialises with!! But anyway, it's mere jealousy on my part. I have no imaginary colleagues to fake socialise with. Bad times.
That said, we are taking matters into our own hands and decamping to BFF's tomorrow night. We have planned the whole thing. Baby soup at 5pm (take two toddlers and one baby, undress, throw into bath, drink wine while they empty contents of bath around bathroom shrieking with glee) followed by picky tea for all 5 babies, then put them all to bed (mental note, retrieve travel cot for Baby tomorrow afternoon of he'll be spending the night in his Bugaboo) and BFF and I are going to watch Love Actually in our pjs, eat Indian food and wear face masks while the husbands watch Shawshank Redemption, eat chinese food, drink beer in the cinema room and probably fall asleep on their respective recliners. It is going to be EPIC!
Oh, we also have 3 house viewings lined up so keep fingers crossed. One of these surely has to be our home. I'm losing the will to live!

On boys, and their bumps

My god, do little girls do this or is it a boy thing? Baby is constantly on his face, banging his head, knocking his chin, getting his hand stepped on (technically not his fault but still...) It's non-stop. He is only 9 months old but obsessed with standing, and whilst I think we're through the worst stage where they can't physically stand for toffee but won't be told and wind up with their face whacking the TV unit multiple times an hour, it's still quite labour intensive over here. He is now a competent little stander-upper and is beginning to cruise around like a crazy person, but every so often he loses balance and oops, there he is shrieking again. He's beginning to look like a child of neglect. And it's not like I don't try. I have cushions around the fireplace, I am constantly watching him, supporting him, encouraging him out of harm's way, I'm the helicopter parent I swore I'd never be! But still, he's so damn fast and so damn wobbly. One second he's got it and the next we're both in tears again. It's enough to make me want to invest in one of those bloody baby prisons.
Why must I raise such independent, adventurous little bruisers? Next thing I know he'll be working out logical solutions to problems that I was hoping would stump him (Oh no darling, we can't watch Lion King AGAIN, we've lost the remote...I know Mummy, let's use the television in your room...damn it!)

Sugar and spice...

Have been reading a number of articles recently about food, nutrition, diets etc...since Baby started weaning a few months ago and it's really made me stop and analyse our family menu. Toddler was weaned in the exact same way that I've been introducing things to Baby and so far it's going really well but it's always good to try new things and adapt our approach if something healthily or easier comes along so I've been giving it some serious thought.
As some background info, I can tell you that Toddler eats pretty much anything that's put in front of him, within reason, and loves cooking in the kitchen. I have a lot more success getting him to try new things when he's been in charge of chopping or stirring, and after he's had a hot dinner for lunch at nursery sometimes getting him to eat some tea at home can be hard work. He gets a lot of satisfaction and pride when he is measuring, making decisions about flavours etc and adores making cakes for Husband...this love of treats is one of things that made me stop and re-assess our habits and cupboards!
We have a lot of opinions about mealtimes themselves, and that's not really my focus today. In a nutshell, we go for a 'try it and see' approach and a 'if you choose not to eat then there's nothing else until breakfast/lunch/snacktime...' kind of stand and so far it's working quite well. We know when to put our foot down (if he's asked for seconds and then decides he's full, not on!) or when to let him follow his own tummy. I guess eating well most of the time means that when he does decide to pick and choose it's not a massive deal!
My concern has been the amount of sugar that our family consumes. I guess I was naive in my thinking that sugar was only contained in sweets, chocolate, fizzy pop etc...and nowhere else but recent reading, and the huge, recent focus from the media, has alerted me to the fact that actually, we are not a particularly sugar-free family.
I've never been particularly sweet-averse. Toddler had tastes of chocolate, cake, icecream etc...at an early age and we practice 'everything in moderation' on the whole. If we head out for coffee with girlfriends then a scone or a teacake is pretty much a given. But it's not at every meal and it's not every day so...
I guess where we have fallen down the most is in the 'snack' zone. We have become consumers of wrapped snack bars, packaged fruit roll-ups, cereal bars and yoghurt covered raisins etc... A parenting blog that I love to read once mentioned the fact that 99% of her lunchboxes and snack pots were 'packaging free', meaning exactly as it reads, nothing had to be unwrapped during prep or when they sat down to enjoy it! In direct contrast, our lunchboxes contain Babybel, a cereal bar, fruit drops, fresh fruit, maybe some crackers, a yoghurt pot or tube...pretty much everything has to be unwrapped. Now, while this is mainly to do with ease and portability, it is easy to see the correlation between sugar-free/healthier eating and foods that aren't packaged!!
So, I decided to undertake an experiment. My gut instinct was to empty the snack box into the bin, declare the entire household sugar-free and embark on a nazi-style regime of homemade smoothies and...something else that doesn't contain sugar (see? I can't even name something? Plain fish?) But in a totally uncharacteristic move, I decided to take my time and phase things out slowly. I have refused to replenish the snack box in the cupboard, have quadrupled the amount of fresh fruit that we buy and am slowly transferring Toddler over to fresh fruit juice instead of squash. I am also making a concerted effort to include at least 3 vegetables in every meal. This one is proving the trickiest - I just need to buy a big bag of mixed frozen veg and I'm there but for some bizarre reason I have forgotten on the last two big food shops I've done!
I appreciate that these small changes don't make my family sugar-free. Far from it as apparently fruit and juices are two of the biggest 'culprits'. But that wasn't really the aim of my experiment. It was more a personal challenge to analyse our own family's diet, identify our weak spots and make some small changes that would hopefully benefit us all long term.
Looking at our everyday actions is something we forget sometimes. They become so routine, so mundane, so unimportant that we forget they need reviewing, refreshing and updating. At the moment we change our meal planner in Summer and Winter, but maybe my next big project should be to add in 2 more variants for Spring and Autumn? Now we have two growing boys I'm going to need as many ideas as I can to keep them interested and enthusiastic about food, as well as not lose my mind cooking the same 28 meals over and over again!!

Lawyer Mum

Lawyer Mum is my 'grown up' friend. Obviously, all my friends are grown ups, but Lawyer Mum has a definite air of having her shit together.
The first time I met her I was in total awe and not much has changed in the four years we've been friends. We were at baby class, all sitting there with our cute little bumps, naively chatting about how easy labour would be and how natural we would find breastfeeding tra la la and Lawyer Mum was asked about her plan for delivery. She was calm, confident, self-assured...and put me into a flat spin. I cried on the way home to Husband as I really hadn't given it any proper thought (fear leads to me denial, it's a bloody useless personality trait!) and had suddenly realised I was totally unprepared and quite frankly, an idiot! In contrast, Lawyer Mum had such confidence in her ability to give birth. She (inadvertently) made me feel like a kid playing house.
Conversely, once you get to know her, she is the most supportive and encouraging person. She gives excellent advice, I think it comes from her career where she doesn't say one damn thing without thinking about it from every angle incase she gets sued or loses millions?? She is accepting of different personalities, parenting styles and opinions and never gossips about people behind their back. I find this strange, as that's one of my favourite habits!! I have never heard her question anyone else's choices or approaches, even in private.
She is the definition of self-deprecating. She could mention her salary, her career, her family home...but she is demure and reassuringly matter-of-fact. She never partakes in girly chat about the menfolk, just smiles naughtily and declines to comment! She has two boys who are not great sleepers yet she never complains. She holds down an extremely demanding full-time job, is up all night with her Baby who suffers with reflux, makes all their meals from scratch and never grumbles. She states the fact that she is tired, but never blames her boys. I find that totally admirable, most people would lose their patience and reconsider their parenting choices, maybe decide to switch to bottles or try Controlled Crying to crack the waking issue. Not Lawyer Mum, she is resolute in her decisions and refuses to compromise.
I'm glad I met her. She's such a kind person whose example has encouraged me to be more confident in both my abilities and decisions but also in the way I interact with people, with strangers. I am more straight-talking, less likely to angst for days over the way people perceived me. I enjoy her company. I get to hear about her busy, jet-setting, handbag-toting life and then we discuss recipes for weaning meals and the most effective way I should speak to consultants at the hospital. And that's a winner in my book!

Tuesday's child is full of grace

Apparently?!

So far between them these two Tuesday children have pooped at the breakfast table (how is that graceful??) and lain down on the landing sobbing angrily because I suggested that brushing our teeth for the third time in 20mins would perhaps be folly? I ask you, how is this my life? Every other fecker has to wrestle the brush into their toddler's mouth, I spend most of my time finding effective hiding places for the flaming toothpaste to deter excessive cleaning. Crazy times. 

So anyway, Tuesdays are Mummy days and there's no rush out the door at 8.45. So I had time to bend down and explain why I had the made the unfathomable decision to remove the toothpaste from his clenched, angry fist. Sometimes I wonder if I'm a fully paid-up member of this ridiculous generation who explain every damn little thing to a creature who is simultaneously kicking your shins, so consumed by irrational rage that they're not even really hearing my voice. But then I look at him and think, I can't just walk away. There's a time and a place for saying 'no' and just shutting the conversation down, namely 'can I play with this electrical device in the bath, Mama?' or when I've already done all the gently gently approach and he's just not hearing that either. But generally that's not my style. I try to explain, empathise, compromise, understand...it's just that sometimes I feel like I'm being a hapless fool who's being played by a child!! Last night at dinner, Toddler was literally beside himself over some chilli and I would have bet good money that he was just overtired. 10mins later he was bloody fine and I felt like my maternal gut instinct had jumped ship and left me to be outwitted by a baby!!

Random tantrums aside, we have also sorted out the Pandora's box of hell that was the art supplies (phew), checked rightmove 5 times (nothing) and done yet more laundry. I do laundry a lot. Too much I feel. Can't decide whether the answer is to bin everything so we each only have 2 outfits or buy us all 15 more outfits so laundry pile is bigger but time between loads is considerably longer. Hmm, shall have a think...

In other news, I have no news. Nana came yesterday to critique my love of routine, 'oh you poor little darling, your Mama is mean to you...you wanted to sleep didn't you?' Grr! But then she bought me lunch and for all my stubborn, grudge-holding ways, I'm quite easily swayed by a chicken and ham hock panini!! So we're friends again. 

And Baby Girl has her appointment with the plastic surgeon today (fake boobs*) so am just trying to keep her and her Mama in my prayerful thoughts as I go about my errands this morning. You know, because I like to be Christian and kind while dragging Toddler around on my shin and applying anbesol to sad Baby's gums. 

So yes. This is Tuesday. And as I type Baby is shrieking in his cot (bloody teeth!) so had best rush. Have a good day!

*clearly this is humour. She's 4 months old. She has a large birthmark smack bang between her eyes, little love, and it's got to be sorted if it's not going to effect her vision and hand-eye coordination. 

Circle of friends

I moved here to be with Husband from a huge city where I had a small but fab network of close friends, a manic social life and worked in an extremely stressful and busy school. Conversely, where we now live is small and quiet, I knew hardly anyone when I arrived and the school I was employed at was full of middle class children with pushy mothers. Talk about a change of scene! I was convinced I would die of boredom after a few short weeks and for the longest time we rowed constantly over the fact that Husband wouldn't relocate instead. 

In actual fact though, over the last 8 years my network of friends has expanded more than I ever thought possible and I am now surrounded by the most incredible circle of girlfriends which means that our diary is often so busy that it causes Husband to retreat into his office on a Saturday morning groaning!! (it's not that he doesn't enjoy our friends, just that he finds it oh so hard to muster up any energy for, you know, getting dressed and leaving the house, that kind of thing. Once he's out the door he's fine!!)

I am fortunate enough to have the confidence to speak to anyone (my father) combined with the attitude of not giving a shit what randoms think (my mother). This combination can get me into a shed load of grief when I'm drunk but comes in very handy when trying to meet new friends when surrounded by strangers. I have this trait to thank for American Mum, who innocently sat down next to me in Costa once and is now my fellow 'long-haired toddler boy' ally. 

So right now in my life, considering I no longer hold down a job full time in the traditional sense of the word, I am actually busier than ever before (the arrival of two small boys and a dog may have contributed to that element obviously) and hardly ever go back to visit my former beloved city. I guess it's true that life changes and if you can roll with it instead of resisting for the first 5 years in a grump, it's all a lot simpler!!

My girlfriends are such an important element to my mental wellbeing and support network. They are a mixed bunch, creatives and mothers, teachers and directors. I love them all dearly for very different reasons and since entering the motherhood they have only become more integral to my approach. Whether it be advice or comedic relief from toddler hell, they are amazing. I thought it would be nice for me to introduce you to them, one by one, a small profile on a large star in my world. So, keep your eyes peeled for my first 'girlfriend profile', coming this week!!

Lavo, lavo!!

Toddler has french lessons at nursery. At the end of every song he sings he announces 'lavo, lavo...' and waits for applause. 

This is both hilarious and worrying. Not only is his french about as accurate as his father's but we have officially made him the first-born son who expects applause for everything he does!!

Love it!!

Precious mamas

God. What a morning. It's my own bloody fault for frequenting a playbarn, den of hell, place where all sick chavs go to die etc etc...

Went to local playbarn with BFF and our three tiddlers. It's normally quiet so we were (stupidly) confident that it would be fine. And it would have been, had it not been for 'precious mum' who was also there with her little girl. 

Now don't get me wrong, Toddler is bouncy. Toddler is loud. Toddler likes to jump off things and shout RARRH and squidge all the huge foam shapes into the ball pool with great gusto. But he's not mean nor nasty nor malicious. 

Every time he so much as looked at the little girl her mother stepped forward ready to intervene. I was sitting outside the glass enjoying a coffee, nattering and feeding Baby but could see him the whole time and was happy with his behaviour. 

It started out like it always does, with me rolling my eyes and making a few loud comments about being kind and gentle so they knew who he was with and that I wasn't blind! Then it slowly turned into a terribly disloyal paranoia. I found myself thinking 'for the love of God, stop jumping off that bloody step...why must you slide down that thing headfirst so near to that little girl??' and getting quite snippy with him. His behaviour was rubbing me up the wrong way, and really he wasn't doing a damn thing wrong. And still they huffed and puffed and tutted under their breath. By this point I was sitting IN the soft play area with Baby and BFF so could see them quite clearly when they dramatically grabbed their daughter out of Toddler's reach if he galloped past her. 

Then my BFF pointed something out to me that made me stop and reassess. Their other child, a little boy, was racing around and deliberately banging into their legs, to which they would all laugh and cry 'cheeky!!' So apparently, when their kid did it it was fine, but when my child joined in their game he was a violent bully who needed removing??

So then I swiftly moved back to rolling my eyes and ignoring them. 

Why must parents, especially other mothers, be so clicky, judgmental and bitchy? He's a young boy who was enjoying his time at a facility that is designed for boisterous play. Surely if your child is made out of glass it's not the best place for her to spend her Friday morning?

Just a thought!

That's me, late to everything

As ever, I am two seasons behind every other person in the entire universe and have just discovered the beany hat. Honestly, what a div. This has happened my entire adult life. New trend hits the catwalk then shops, I dismiss it, every other fucker embraces it and looks fabulous, I wake up one day thinking 'Ooh, I know what I need, one of those navy Blazers/nude pumps/skinny jeans (fill in any trend here), I head to shops and BAM they're sold out. Of everything. People move onto the next big thing. Repeat cycle!

It's quite frustrating. What's even more frustrating it that I am aware of it, I know I do it and I know the issues it causes me further on down the line and yet I still continue to resist. I literally stand in Oasis holding things thinking 'yes I know it's great, and I'll probably change my mind, but hmmm I'm not sure...nah I'll leave it,

I'm not sure it's 'me'??' and before I've even walked out of the store I'm regretting it. It's like a magical power to see the future. That I ignore. Every fucking time. I blame my father's stubborn streak in me!!

So anyhoo, beany hats. Yes. Just discovered those. Literally everyone already has 4 or 5 in their closets. Even my nan is rocking the fur pompom look. But finally, I have arrived. I spent a happy and defiant 12 months chuntering about sportswear and teenage attire, hat hair and ridiculous appearances...but now am jumping up and down preaching about hiding dirty hair, looking 'funky' on the school run, being quirky and different...you know, all that stuff bloggers have been declaring for months now. That's me, always late to the party! You'll recognise me as the one in an outfit you were probably wearing in 2011!

Teeth

6 monthly trip to the dentist and had to take both boys. Considering last time I wound up having an impromptu wisdom tooth extraction under local anaesthetic while they both watched from the sidelines, today was a breeze!

Sure, Baby couldn't decide whether he wanted up (screeeeam) or down (even louder screeeeam) and they were running 20mins behind (screeeeeam from me!) and Toddler suddenly decided he was deathly petrified of the chair...but we all survived and Toddler even got a Spidey-sticker. Frankly, I thought out of everyone there that it was me who had earned the fucking sticker but I let this one slide!!

Now home for the joy that is bathtime (genuinely, joyful, my boys love water, it's the one time in the day I can 100% guarantee smiles!!) and then Husband and I are off to see house number 28. You know what they say...lucky number 28. Sigh!! 

On fraud and other random criminal activity!!

Aargh angst, I spend my life online. Banking, social media, food shopping, party planning, clicking and collecting... If I think of it, I log on and buy it. It is either on its way or reserved and waiting for me next time I'm in town. I hardly ever make calls, it's all emails, tweets, direct messages...I'm not even sure I can use a biro at this point??

But this week the world of online ease and speed has been compromised. BFF has had some random Russian money phishing bastards try and hack into her personal bank account. (This could possibly have something to do with her inadvertently filling in a phishing email, but it's easily done and no one blames her, except maybe her Husband, but that's by the by!!) Luckily her bank were on the ball and thought 'you want to order new cards AND change your billing address? Hang on a second...' and nothing was taken. But for someone with OCD and considerable anxiety issues this has resulted in her deciding all online activity is a minefield and henceforth only using cash and cheques for everything. Ever!

This is both weird and confusing to me. For starters, we don't use cheques so on the rare occasion we need to write one we have to search the bloody house top to bottom for the cheque book, have a small row, accuse each other of losing it, then find it!! It still has my maiden name on, that's how long it's taking us to use up the cheques!! (We got married in 2007!) But also, you're covered in the event of fraudulent activity, so what's the big fuss?

Either way, I suppose I can appreciate her reaction. It must be terribly violating and leave you feeling rather vulnerable when something like that happens. Not to mention thinking, shit I use that password for bloody everything!! I'd have to spend a week changing every password to every account I have, then consequently forget the new one, get locked out of everything, have to make phonecalls...the mere thought makes my blood run cold. Maybe I do use online too much?

Anyway, I thought I was quite cool, calm and collected about such matters. You know, one of those 'well I have £13.42 in my personal account, Russian mob boss, so go ahead, knock yourself out' kinda people?! But she's obviously rubbed off on me as this morning, when I saw two random paypal transactions on our joint bank account I flipped. I frantically called the bank, who advised me to speak to paypal...there was talk of direct debits, reference numbers, authorisations, security queries...turns out it was Husband buying a golf club via eBay. Fucks' sake!!

Was late for nursery and needed another coffee. All before 9am!!

A toddler in love

T:

Mama, can I marry you?

M:

oh, no, sorry darling. I'm already married. To daddy.

T:

that's not kind to me 

M:

sorry sweet boy. You normally marry someone the same age as you though...what about Eleanor or Laura? You could marry one of them?

T:

do I have to kiss them?

M:

well, people who are married do tend to kiss. You usually marry someone who you would like to kiss every day.

T:

my not like kissing Eleanor. I know. My marry James!

M:

do you want to kiss James then sweetheart?

T:

nooo, don't be silly Mama. My a boy, James a boy, my like boys, we like cars.

And off he skipped. Dear Lord, don't let his innocent spirit be too harshly dented by outside influences. Let him always be full of simple love, straightforward friendship and uncomplicated logic

Resolutions update

Still no dream house found. Aargh!

Still not started ironing (but have 11 more months to crack that…!)
No puppy yet (awaiting new house)
Updating blog as much as I can!
Not lost any weight. Feck!
Signed paperwork for school, yay!

Have also decided to add 2 new ones. No TV for me Mon-Fri (it’s so crap, and I could be so productive!!) and no phones upstairs in the evening. Bright lights are seriously affecting our sleep patterns and ability to relax effectively come bedtime. We shall see how long I last before Husband’s lack of electronic entertainment leads to me having a UTI

Playroom frustration

Aaaarrrggghh can I just say, I am more than ready to move for one reason and one reason only. I don’t care about the new kitchen or the bigger garden, the bigger wardrobe system in our room or the power shower we’ve got planned. I want, need, dream about, long for the new playroom for my boys!!

Since the day my first pregnancy test went blue, over 4 years ago, I have been planning this room and dreaming about its layout and purpose. At the moment their toys and games are split between their bedrooms and the far end of our small dining room. Bedroom storage isn’t ideal as at this young age I want their rooms to be spaces for rest and relaxation, not play and stimulation!! I know they will be able to play independently upstairs in a few years but at the moment I prefer their playtime to be within Mama’s watchful gaze!! I encourage independent play when I am writing or prepping dinner (if Toddler isn’t helping me!) but like to be close-by to ensure that he is safe and content, it also means I can offer encouraging words when he is struggling with a task and praise his resilience when he succeeds.
In the new house I want our playroom to be just off the kitchen but with doors that can be closed to ensure OCD-mama sanity when 7pm rolls around. I want to work really hard to balance my neat and tidy mentality with their love of dens, projects and mess!!
There will be easy access bookshelves, see through toy storage, a blackboard wall, art work displayed on rotation, free access to art supplies, space to make a train track on the floor and not have to tidy it away at mealtimes, huge cushions and fairy lights in the reading corner, a dressing up rail, a wealth of montessori toys to aid our learning. You name it, I’ve planned a space for it. I want it to be tidy and organised but child-friendly and creative, fun and imaginative. At the moment I simply don’t have that. As soon as a toy or game is done with we have to tidy it away due to space constraints. Everything has its home and still bits and pieces trickle into the living room and impact on my child-free evening. Right now I am looking at a walker, a steam train, an activity table and a workbench 😫
Come on new house. Where are you?! We’re ready!

The name’s Ford. Gina Ford.

Baby has now been sleeping for 1hr and 56mins and counting…please sweet baby Jesus let this be the turning point in his sleep routine. 

The kid can do 12hrs at night with no issue, cracked it at 11 weeks old, but I’ve really struggled to get him to embrace the big lunchtime nap in the middle of the day. We’ve had weeks of 37mins then screaming until I take him out of his cot. I finally got him extended to 1hr20mins but then he still needs a power nap around 4/4.30pm.
Please don’t let this be a snot-induced fluke. Let this be it. Let this be the start of proper naps so Mama can write, clean, prep dinner, do some schoolwork with Toddler… We will all feel so much more human.
Fingers crossed!

Honestly

This is getting quite ridiculous. My children are never ill, never. I guess this is what happens when you have 2, they pass it back and forth happily and it seems to last forever?? This is now day 8 of snot and Mama has succumbed. It’s only a matter before Husband gets it and then, well, it’ll be all bets off worst cold in the universe EVER!

(Husband doesn’t really ‘do’ sick very well. Once he pulled a muscle in his neck and wound up in A&E having a lumbar puncture because he was convinced he had meningitis. This is strange to me as in other respects he is terribly drama-averse. Hmm…)
Anyway, due to my inability to breathe or move my head without wincing today has been Button Moon DVDs and lazy walks in the sunshine. I am pooped.
Tomorrow is a big day for our little friend who is being christened so am hoping and praying I feel better in the morning. Keep fingers crossed!

The land of snot!

Friday was toddler with fever.

Saturday was everyone OK but snotty.

Sunday brought down baby with fever.

Monday was baseline snot but toddler fine so bundled off to nursery.

Tuesday? All fine…until 3pm when all hell broke loose and we cracked out the Nurofen.

Wednesday, kept toddler off nursery as he was clearly not 100%. He was fine all day!!

Thursday, baby snotty and whingy, toddler fine, back to nursery…bitten by small vampire. I have a PLA meeting tonight, Husband is at a networking event (code for ‘business piss-up’!), the kitchen has got a mind of its own and I’m fairly confident someone is taking clean clothes out of their drawers, balling them up and gayly throwing them into the laundry basket for kicks?? Oh, and I need to wash my hair but have no energy. The shower is too hard work!!

God help me. Friday better be amazing!

The lurg

Eeshk, toddler was struck down on Friday with a fever that meant he slept pretty much all day on the sofa, then woke up on Saturday back to normal apart from a snotty nose. The kid is a medical marvel. 

So Saturday was rather uneventful, lovely and lazy. A walk/bike ride to Costa and then a film under a blanky followed by Chinese food. Score!
Sunday however, brought more snot, tears, calpol…it would appear that Toddler’s germs had jumped ship overnight and landed directly in Baby’s mouth. Bad times. I’ve never known our thermometer flash red quite so vividly or frequently.
Apparently a fever is a good sign of a healthy immune system as it’s your body’s way of fighting off bugs, making the environment as inhospitable as possible. So the downside of potential seizures in your fragile little angel is a short lived cold and a speedy return to bright smiles. Every cloud…

Updates

School paperwork has been signed!

I am delighted. All political and emotional arguments aside, I know in my heart of hearts that this setting is the right one for my little love. 

But man, every time I open my closet door and see that little flash of blue blazer my heart lurches into my throat. Will I really be able to let him walk through the door?

Mama wardrobe

Have been proactive while Husband has been out at the driving range and emptied out 4 of my 5 drawers in the dressing room. ‘Drawers’ doesn’t sound like they hold much, but they are very deep and very wide drawers and the 5 of them hold every item of clothing I own (ball gowns aside!)

The aim of this terribly mundane and random task was to take note of exactly what I own so that I can make an accurate shopping list for future trips out. I am sick and tired of coming home with yet another Breton top, having drawers full of stuff and having nothing to wear. I constantly feel ‘plain’. Grr!

So yes. Baby was napping, toddler was preoccupied with a sorting game (moving pom poms from one box to another with chopsticks? thank you montessori.com!)

I started by emptying all 4 drawers onto the floor (bugger me that was messy and stressful, I almost just shrieked and ran back downstairs to the safety of the sofa!) then sorted it all carefully into piles. The categories I so elegantly formed were as follows

1 vest tops

2 random tshirts

3 jumpers

4 dressy tops

5 bottoms

6 pjs

7 sportswear (this pile included a lot of clothes covered in dust and moths. Sad times!)

The pile of trousers was pretty simple to assess and put away as I have 2/3 pairs of skinny jeans that get worn every damn day of the week, 2 pairs of chinos, 1 pair of cigarette pants, 1 pair of stretchy Aladdin trousers that really need to go but I love ‘em!, some shorts for the summer, 1 beautiful maxi skirt and 1 pair of se7en bootcut jeans that I kind of love and kind of hate but cost God knows how much so despite all the wardrobe blogging advice I have read about getting rid of things that don’t ‘excite’ you, I’ve ignored it on this occasion!!

The vest top pile had 3 vests in it. So that was simple. In the drawer. 

The random tshirt pile has quite a few entrants, mostly acceptable with a fancy scarf and some jewellery so they were all allowed to stay, even the crappy pink stripy one from the Gap that I don’t like but can wear as an extra layer. You know. Next winter. God I’m crap at this game! *goes upstairs to grab crappy pink stripy top out of drawer and bins it

Jumpers was easy as this has been my Christmas sale mission (and by jove I excelled!)

Pyjamas were sorted by Fun Auntie for my Christmas gift (thank you sister dear!) and sportswear is, as previously mentioned, a relic. Done, and done!

So that leaves fancy tops. My new mission is fancy, dressy, tops. Tops I could wear out to lunch without feeling like a slummy mummy who should still be at high school. Tops that don’t make me feel like an imposter. Tops that cheer me up and make me strut more.

God knows, I love my job. I wouldn’t go back into the workplace before my boys are both in full time education for all the money in the world. But sometimes a life in Converse and Breton gets a bit staid. You forget that you are an individual, a girl, a wife, a friend, a minx! You get so wrapped up in snack boxes and potty training and manners and jigsaws that sometimes, a fancy top can save your whole week!

I shall let you know where and when I find any. I have high hopes for the Gap outlet who do easy-to-wear slouchy blouses in a lovely material that’s quite floaty, dressy but not formal. And Warehouse and Oasis are always strong contenders so shall head there as soon as I have some spare time. 

I’m thinking 2019!!

Toddler 101

Toddler:

Mama, you larious.

Me:

Pardon, sweetheart?

Toddler:

You larious. You make me laugh. Ha ha, funny lady!

Ok then!

The weekend

Be still my heart. My Saturday has been:

Early morning snuggles in a rocking chair.

Matching outfits for next weekend’s Christening.

Baby’s first shoes.

My toddler peddling away from me far too fast.

Sharing books under a blanky.

Chinese food.

Bond.

And tomorrow involves swimming and a roast chicken. Woo

And now turn 180’

This post is mainly about how much I hate being home all day every day. The novelty factor has officially worn off. Wednesday was a one-off, yesterday was pushing it and now today I am almost insane with cabin fever. Toddler woke up at 7.30am with a raging temperature, very cuddly and asking for calpol. This kinda ruined our plans of soft play and lunch with the BFFs. Instead it was Lion King (again!! Curse the day I put that in my trolley!!) before 8am and so far we’re up to 4hours inside. I went to the bin earlier for kicks. 

The only other observation I have is what a crappy friend I am. Not in a tangible way. But in a dishonest, sly way. Had a girlfriend over yesterday afternoon/evening and found myself buzzing around her tidying and cleaning and folding laundry and being supermom all whilst chatting and drinking coffee while the boys played…this was all brilliant for my general mood as I get a lot from small accomplishments throughout the day. But after she left and the boys were in bed I thought, that was a bit crappy of me. I totally put on a front, to give a good impression of a domestic goddess when 9 times out of ten husband loads the dishwasher when he gets in. I also felt a little smug being so busy and in control as she stood there telling me that her house was a mess, that her kid doesn’t go to bed, that her husband can be an arse. And that’s pretty shitty when you think about it. I didn’t mean to, she’s a dear friend who I admire, but subconsciously I was proving how adept I am at parenting, at running a house, at being on top of things. Which is both totally unfair and totally untrue!! It was my insecurities coming out and my cut-throat need to ‘win’ rearing its ugly head. Urgh! The shame!
Maybe another new year’s resolution should be to just be a bit more honest, with myself and with others. And also, to get my arse into gear and load the dishwasher before husband gets home!

Lazy days

Golly, there really is something to be said for staying home all day isn’t there? Have been housebound today which I was dreading and for once I actually found it rather relaxing?!

Normally I need to be busy, have tick lists to complete, activities and errands and coffee dates organised to fill my days. It stems from losing my Dad. I was always out and about with toddler (then known as baby!) before he got sick but when he died I couldn’t cope with any ‘downtime’ in the day. I would just dissolve into tears at random moments or sit and stare into space while he played at my feet and then when husband came in I would rather explode with impotent rage or just collapse under the duvet at 7.30pm. It was no fun for anyone involved. So yes, a combination of anti-depressants, coffee and being busy keep me one happy mama.
Today I was tied to the house, however. My mobile phone is temporarily down (transferring my number across networks) so I needed to be near the landline incase nursery rang me with an emergency (they didn’t!) or the estate agent rang to tell me the dream house was available again (they didn’t!)
And I’ve got to say, it was rather nice. I’m not saying I will do it again any time soon but pootling around, tidying up, making phonecalls, not watching the clock all day…it was ‘different’. Baby didn’t die of boredom, I didn’t start to pull my hair out with cabin fever, the kitchen is now tidier than it was this morning…a success!
I have become more aware of how much stuff we own though. Kept looking at bookshelves and cupboards and images of packing boxes floated into my head. Groan!
Maybe it is less stressful to head out tomorrow?!!

Tuesday’s child

House in country didn’t go ahead. Offer was accepted but then vendor randomly changed all the boundary lines and we had apparently lost 4/5 of what we’d been told was included…? Very bizarre, extremely frustrating, but hey. The search continues. 

Found one today online so did a driveby, fell in love, rang estate agents and BAM they’d had an offer that had been accepted about 30mins earlier. AARGH!!
Other than that my day was laundry, online food shop, tidy up some Lego to prevent baby choking to death, naptime, kitchen jobs, playbarn and lunch with besties (yay!), long drive home through country to find, adore, and then discard beautiful adore-mentioned house, more kitchen jobs, tidy up same Lego from earlier (déjà vu, perhaps I’m insane??) bathtime, tea, stories, milk, bedtime… So after a rather busy but productive day when all I wanted to do was sit down and breathe, husband came home like a bear with a sore head and made me want to poke him in the eye 😡 God knows what’s pissed him off but he’s in one of those condescending, persnickety moods that means I’m better off hiding the bath, for his safety and my sanity!!
So here I am, drowning in bubbles, looking up fancy restaurants for our next dinner date. Saturday night was so much fun, really relaxed, fancy, frivolous and selfish. Just what we need once every month to reconnect and remind ourselves that we are actually a young married couple as well as running a new business and a family.
Mind you, if he continues to snark at me I shall be taking someone else in February

I’m impressed

Just reread my NYE post and am quite impressed. Considering that when I wrote it I had consumed almost an entire bottle of Moët after only eating some crisps all day it was rather legible and lucid. Well done me. Hazzah!

In the spirit of being held accountable I can announce that we have, today, made an offer on a house on the outskirts of town. More rural, secure gardens, room for improvement, lots of space, still same distance from BFF (very important!)… I rather like it, despite it being one that Husband found and therefore I should hate it immediately!!, and am hoping our offer gets accepted in the morning.
The only other exciting news is that I had a whole two hours to myself earlier so I could finally find a dress for this meal tomorrow. Living a life in Boden tops, skinny jeans and converse is all very well and good but it doesn’t really scream ‘sexy lady out on the town for cocktails with her husband’s clients’ now does it?
Anyway, Husband magnanimously announced that he was looking after the boys while I went shopping and lo, after initially wandering aimlessly around House of Fraser fingering Breton tops and tiny babygrows it finally all came back to me, I came into my own, rediscovered my love of visa and came home with 2 dresses, 2 sets of underwear (lingerie creates such a visual, and they really are just tshirt bras from M&S so let’s not get too exotic!!) a jumper (not strictly for dinner but in the sale so thrifty purchase etc etc…) oh and some bread because we’d run out!!
Now am in the delightfully smug position of not knowing which dress to wear. Middle-class problems.
Oh balls, I forgot tights

Making a change

So, the time is upon us. Champagne, staying up waaaay past bedtime, making the all important, life-changing resolutions that we will strive to keep until Jan 15th when we inevitably eat a Mars bar completely forgetting our pledge to go 365 days without one then spend all afternoon trying to justify it or convince ourselves that switching to avoiding bountys still counts (just me? No?)

In all seriousness though, it is one of the traditions I do actually take notice of. I see it as a chance to challenge yourself, to refocus, to take stock of all good things that have come your way over the last 12 months and make a list of what you’re going to do to ensure more good fortune comes your way.
So, in the spirit of ‘publicising your drunken resolutions so that others hold you accountable’ here are mine for 2015:
Move house (phase 1 is complete…)

Lose half a stone

Get a puppy

Start ironing once a week (family is verging on crumpled tissue paper wardrobes, it has to stop)

Update blog more regularly!

Convince my husband about toddler’s school provision from Sept onwards

And that’s that. Shall update you with my progress as we go. Happy 2015 xx

Rare occurrence

It would appear that the husband and I are leaving the house. Saturday night is my husband’s business’ Christmas party (overlook any apostrophe error there…?) so we are headed to Shrewsbury for a night on the town. 

The car is arranged. The table is booked. The babysitter is organised. The friends have been rallied. I may or may not have bought a new pair of fabulous shoes and a sequinned top to wear out!!
Essentially my entire game plan is ‘don’t spend all night worrying about the babies and don’t fall asleep at 10pm’. Wish me luck!

In which I get frostbite…

Bugger me, it’s cold outside!! There’s ice everywhere and the car doors were frozen shut first thing…so clearly, today was the perfect day to go and watch an outdoor football match!!

We were treated to a day at Villa Park with friends. There was champagne, a three course meal, a lot of cheese… At one point I ventured onto the balcony to watch a group of fools kick a bag of air around but that didn’t last long. While I had given in and worn a hat, gloves and new down-filled jacket I had refused to wear warm boots when my beautiful new Dukes boots were crying out for an outing. So there I was, slightly drunk, with little to no concept of what was happening on the pitch, with slightly blue ankles. Attractive 😘 The best bit was having a nap during the second half with no small children to interrupt me!
Husband was beside himself the entire day and the boys all had a wonderful time with Nana at home. And my boots are happy…and that’s all that matters!

Secret Santa

We’ve had a busy day celebrating Christmas with my side of the family. It was mostly joyful and stress-free, a trip to the theatre, a mooch in Selfridges, a nice lunch. 

But it’s now late at night. My babies are safely back at home tucked into bed with their new treasures clutched in their chubby little hands. And I have one thing that’s really playing on my mind. It’s related to giving gifts…
We chose to do a secret Santa this year in my family. Only one gift to buy so we’ll up the limit tra la la, usual rules. Thing is, one gift was totally inappropriate, thoughtless, felt like a last minute purchase, had no love behind it…it made me want to cry for the recipient 😥
Now I know I take silly things to heart, and am especially sensitive at the moment. But at a time of year when giving gifts to those around you can be such a magical experience, I dunno, it just really upset me.
I’ve been on the receiving end of thoughtless gifts in the past. It hurts. Maybe it’s because I always put too much heart and soul into my own gifts…maybe it’s because I just remember how sharply it stings to be excited and then so speedily deflated? You feel embarrassed for some odd reason, like the crappy gift is evidence that those around you see you as that unworthy, that insignificant. It really hurts.
If you are fortunate enough to give a gift this season, however small, however ‘random’, then do it wholeheartedly and with forethought and care. It will feel ten times better, for both you and the lucky person who receives 

Slightly remiss..

Sorry. Have been MIA, off the grid, incognito…basically consumed by Christmas madness, so this post shall be a whirlwind update of the crazy-ass ride that was December in our household!!

Hair is still straight. Hairdresser truly is a witch with actual magical frickin’ powers!! I can wash it, towel dry it, run my fingers through it and BAM it stays poker-straight for 3 days. May divorce husband and marry hairdresser??

The Christmas fair was an astounding success. Couldn’t sleep for the week beforehand, kept having that ‘naked in the corridor’ dream except in this middle-class SAHM version I was running around with a clipboard, someone had hidden all the trestle tables and I couldn’t find the raffle tickets. Go figure! Anyway, it was all amazing, people shopped, children laughed, everyone spent money and we made almost double than the previous year. Boom! Only downside was the breakdown in communication at the end of the evening when I arrived home at 9pm to find a shattered toddler on the sofa watching inappropriate TV while Fun Auntie just offered up the explanation ‘well his Daddy said he could wait up for you…’ The fact that my husband thought I was 5/10mins behind him, had then buggered off out to his work Christmas party and I didn’t come home until 2hours after the toddler’s bedtime had apparently not raised any red flags in my darling sister’s brain…ho hum!

What else? Oh yes, we have sold our house. After countless viewings which saw me throwing countless random items into countless random drawers/cupboards/boxes and then not rediscovering them for weeks at a time, someone finally made an offer (ironically it was the one time I didn’t have time to hoover, who knew?, buyers like dog hair) and we may have shrieked YES down the phone so loudly that the estate agent laughed out loud. Then we panicked that we had nowhere to buy, started a mental search, found one I loved and then rowed for 48hrs over husband’s reluctance to buy it instantly. In the end he agreed I could make a ridiculously low offer, which I did but the vendor implied it was less than the competing offer and THEN it all went a bit crazy and I MAY have accidentally made an offer for more than we had agreed and so MAY have bought a house so am now ignoring phone calls from numbers I don’t recognise. Oops. He knows I can’t resist winning. This is why I’m banned from ebay. Fuck!

Boys had a wonderful Christmas. We stayed at home and husband cooked a roast for the first time in his life. Bit of a gamble but it was am-ah-zing! My current funk means that I haven’t been able to face decorating the tree, nagging him into hanging the outside lights, planning the usual feast… It’s just all been so hard this year. I don’t know why when I was on an upwards spiral but I suspect it’s to do with Baby being the same age Toddler was when my Dad got so ill? They look so similar, and I saved so many clothes and toys that are now getting reused, sometimes it’s like 2012 all over again and I can hardly breathe. But anyway, Husband has been a superstar and took control of the big day. We stuck to the rule of ‘play, read, want, need’ with our gifts and it worked really well. Christmas can be such a time of excess and greed, and they had MORE than enough from extended family and friends, they want for nothing.

Baby is about to crawl. I am literally willing him to put all 4 limbs into gear and get moving. I know I’ll be kicking myself as soon as he does but he gets so bloody frustrated rocking back and forth on his tummy and the incessant shrieking is getting quite wearing. 

Golly, I thought I had loads to update you on but it turns out my life really is just school admin, being blue and children. Bugger!

The house search continues, project get-my-husband-to-agree-to-private-school goes on, and I’m determined to start ironing this year. No longer will my family look like they’ve been dressed in crumpled tissue paper (damn you, tumbledryer!) I shall also try not to be so crap at writing posts on here…which sounds freakishly like something I have written before??

Curly girl be gone!

Spent 3 hours this morning having my hair chemically straightened. Booking this for a Tuesday when I have both boys at home all day was, again, not my best plan but thanks to a god-send of a friend who doubles as my hairdresser it all went fairly well. 

We juggled the baby around multiple hair rinses, fed him rice cakes in his highchair while she covered my hair in whatever it was (smelled like pure evil?!) and bribed the toddler with iPad and cbeebies. Needs must!
Now I can’t wash hair for 72hrs (a la murderous daughter in Legally Blonde) so of course, Daddy was late home and meant I had to do bathtime alone with a towel wrapped around my dry hair shrieking ‘DON’T SPLASH ME!!!’ in a red-rag-to-a-bull manner.
I think I have earned my wine today!

Optimus Prime

Mufti day at nursery. Took me an age to convince him he was allowed to wear his own clothes instead of his uniform but then once he got on board with the idea there was no stopping him. Therefore, my Wednesday morning started with my 3 yr old skipping up the school drive dressed as a transformer. Full costume, wings, mask…and uggs. Such a unique little boy 

Toddler+wheels=stress!

Today was a big day. Took toddler out to islabikes to get measured and fitted for his very first pedal bike. It’s been talked about excitedly since July when we last visited (he wasn’t yet competent enough on his balance bike and they convinced him to wait for Santa instead of asking the birthday fairy, genius people!!)

It was an early start, not helped by baby cutting three teeth in one go and being generally miserable and cranky from the second he opened his eyes until the minute the engine turned over, but we made it there in one piece and settled in at the nearby farm shop for the obligatory pre-bike coffee and chocolate brownie. I managed at least 60% of my drink which, to be fair, is quite impressive and the toddler ate more than 2 bites of his brownie before losing interest and bouncing around the booth like a possessed Christmas elf on crack.
I gave in and we headed over a few mins early. I’m not entirely convinced that my child heard much of what the lady was saying to him at any point, he careered around the store like a pingpong ball, had a quick go on a red bike and declared ‘my not like it mama, my like a geen one’, jumped off and ran back inside to swop. Needless to say, after 35mins the poor woman looked like she needed a stiff drink and I needed a lie down in a dark room. Taking my ‘spirited’ child to a shop with 20 expensive bicycles balancing precariously was, in hindsight, not my strongest move. Maybe they should advise tranquillisers before you arrive with youngsters??
Anyway, the ‘geen’ bike has been ordered, husband has sobbed over the bill and it should be here within the week. Due to mastering his balance bike already he shouldn’t need the stabilisers for very long, just long enough to master the mechanics of pedals! Then he’ll be off. My tiny, fragile, innocent bubble boy will take another speedy step away from me and towards grazed knees and bumps on the elbows. But I remember how much fun it is to cycle super fast and want him to experience that thril, that energy, that rush. I shall just be waiting with antiseptic wipes and big hugs

Too many chiefs!

PTA meeting tonight to discuss Christmas fair. Again. Last time it was 90 mins of bottle tombola politics which never got resolved. I am hoping and praying it’s not the same all over again today. 

It’s my own bloody fault. Am only going because I desperately need a night out of the house and an excuse to dress in something not covered in purée!!
The wine should help if nothing else

The one I love

I am fortunate enough to have found my soulmate. We met in a random way, bonded over a random thing and had been inseparable ever since. She is complex and beautiful and I value her friendship immensely. When asked why we get on so well I always answer ‘I don’t know really…we just do!’ But really I know it’s because we were designed to be best friends, destined to meet. She already knew the pain of losing her parents. I needed her friendship to carry me when I lost my Dad. 

One of the reasons we have such a strong friendship is that we have many similarities that bind us but also many differences that challenge the other.
She is always poised in company while I am mouthy. She swoops in and cuddles while I yell dismissive encouragement from across the playground. I am impulsive while she favours routine and home comforts. I take drugs to cope with my grief and she has soldiered on without.
I saw her today and she worried me. Something has tipped her scales and she is struggling. Traffic lights holding her up make her want to vomit. Worrying about random unlikely scenarios keeps her awake at night. Changes in routine are making her well up with tears of frustration and angst.
I helped her by giving her a distraction, chatting about bizarre tidbits, making her laugh, handing her the baby to squidge…all small things but what else do I have? I won’t let her go under. She is always the life buoy, I am always clinging on. It’s her turn to be towed in for a while xxx

How is this possible?

It only seems like yesterday that I was leaning over the coffee table cursing my husband and now our second son is 6 months old. And it only feels like last week that I was begging someone for pethidine (don’t know why I bothered, totally useless!) and now I’ve received a letter about choosing a school for our eldest. 

I knew it was coming but it has sent me into a flat spin. All of a sudden I am weeping into his hair when he looks at me in a certain way, stroking his baby fine curls while he sleeps and wailing over the trousers that just keep getting longer and longer.
Unfortunately, my emotionally driven tendency to overthink things, question every tiny parenting decision for days, angst endlessly over decisions made…makes everything a bit draining and bit dramatic. This, combined with my experience on the frontline (Y1 can feel like the Somme some Wednesday afternoons!) means that I’m probably expending far too much energy and thought on something which should be a straightforward decision. Indeed, my husband has voted with his wallet (not convinced by prep, any state option will do!) and 2 girlfriends I have recently wept on have looked at me like I am insane and announced that they’re sending their child to the nearest option and the school that wears navy, not red!
I know that this easy, lighthearted, relaxed approach doesn’t make them any less of a loving mother than me. In fact, many might argue that their children are significantly better off!!
I just have so many questions and so many fears. And every single provider has a list of pros and a list of cons. I worry that my internal monologue of questions and angst is going to drown out my maternal gut instinct.
And as we all know, that knows best. I shall have to still my mind and follow my heart when it comes to crunch time. And say some prayers. And pay some bribes….!!

So frustrating!!

Of all the things that annoy and frustrate me I have to say, moving house is on a par with waiting for baby to arrive!!

We have toyed with the idea of moving on and off for 5 of the 8 years we’ve lived here and now we are both finally on the ‘yes’ side of the decision…and can’t sell our house 😡
We have had two viewings, both v positive but with property of their own to sell they weren’t in a position to make an offer. The houses we have found and fallen for have, inevitably, been sold and have gone off the market. And we are getting crosser and crosser with the house we once loved and finding never ending faults with it that we don’t want to rectify…because we want to move!
Of course, in real life our house is perfectly fine. We have two bathrooms, the boys don’t have to share a room, we have space for guests, the garden is secure, we have a ceiling, all that bumf! But once you’ve decided you want to move it seems you start to hate your own living space. I have started spiralling into a completely fabricated nightmare of having to live here forever, never ever selling up, watching beautiful houses come on the market and be snatched up by other luckier bastards… This is both ridiculous and unlikely. Sooner or later we will sell our house. Sooner or later we will move. I am a victim of a consumer-driven quick-fix generation according to my mother (thanks for that!)
In the meantime I guess I’ll just stalk rightmove and try not to kick too many of our internal doors in a petulant strop!

Pumpkins? Done!

OMG I love Halloween so much 🎃Pumpkins, fancy dress, sweeties, party food, excellent friends and tiny smiling faces. My boys had an excellent time, baby was completely unaware of course but toddler went to bed elated ❤️

Tomorrow I shall pack away Halloween and start unpacking Christmas!

Logistical nightmare

Dog has appointment at vets at 9.40. Dog hates vet. Dog likes to pull on lead. Toddler can walk. Baby obviously can’t. Baby is heavy in car seat. Can’t carry baby in my arms because when dog pulls there’s a fair chance I’ll drop him or squeeze him so hard he pops. Also, baby can’t spent entire app lying on vets floor, might be frowned upon by members of public. Can’t take pushchair as dog won’t fit in boot unless I take it out. 

Have come up with the following:
Drive to vets. Get baby out of car in car seat. Hoik him into the vets and put him in the waiting room. Pray no one in vets is opportunistic paedo. Race back outside. Release the toddler. Make him cling to my leg while I get dog out of boot. Hold onto toddler while we both get dragged in 45 directions before eventually making it through vets door. Hold onto dog for dear life while he barks at the receptionist/growls at other pets/wees himself from nerves. Distract toddler from demolishing cat food display. Wave toy infront of grumpy baby who wants out of car seat. Wait for name to be called. Pray noone needs a wee or does a massive poo.
Name called. Dog goes mental. Hoik baby and drag dog into room. Remind toddler that if he follows you he can have snack time as soon as we get home. Breathe sigh of relief as vet closes door and we’re all contained…

I worked all of this out over my ‘relaxing’ morning coffee at 6am. I can’t decide if I’m terribly organised and efficient for trying to think of everything that could possibly go wrong or a total fool who should learn to roll with the chaos. It’d be easier that way I suppose.

I can’t bring myself to work out how we’ll all get back to the car safely. I’ll need another coffee before that one!

Does anyone have a frying pan I can borrow?

Shit, decluttering is dangerous. I decided this morning that I desperately needed to streamline our living space. It started, as it always does, with the playroom. Call me crazy but I just don’t think a 3 year old needs 47 vehicles. Yes, they are all different, and yes, they were all terribly thoughtful and sweet gifts from people who love him. But they are EVERYWHERE and hardly touched due to there being so many of the blinking things my toddler takes one look at the toybox and literally can not be arsed to dig through the mountain to find what he was after so sticks with old faithful (jumping off the sofa onto the dog, a whole other issue!)

Anyway, it all started out very well indeed. He is used to donating toys and books at Christmas and around his birthday so he happily sorted out a bag for the charity shop…and that’s where it all went a bit insane. I got bitten by the decluttering bug! Soon I was flinging things into a bin liner with what might be described as ‘gay abandon’ and it’s got to be said, my husband’s wardrobe didn’t do very well in my attack 😕 In my defense, I only bagged things that he a)hasn’t worn for the past 2/3 years but is hanging onto for random reasons best known to himself or b)things that were falling apart (Calvin Klein pants with exposed elastic anyone? Woo!) or c)that I truly and utterly hated (frankly, the most valid reason in my opinion)
I was ruthless with my own things too. Gone are the office sandals I never ever wore but held onto because they looked beautiful (they didn’t fit me properly and should never have been bought), adios to the nude pumps that have been amazing and went with everything but got chewed by an errant labrador 6m ago, so long random scarf that was a Christmas gift 6 years ago but went with absolutely nothing I own. I also bagged random baby bits that have already been outgrown and some tea towels we’ve had since university. Whilst in the kitchen I also binned the frying pan that has been making me swear four times a week for the last god knows how many months (mental note, replace frying pan before dinner time)
So all in all, a successful morning, but may be problematic tomorrow when Husband stands infront of his wardrobe at 7am and realises he has no pants and no work trousers. Bugger!

Life with 4 boys

Today has been:

Early morning grumbles (apparently his duplo spaceship hadn’t fared well being slept on top of…?)

A super long dog walk with a pram and a scooter (this is primarily why I drink so much)

Poop (there’s always so much poop)

Teething (should have shares in bloody nurofen)

A wee in the garden (wet socks, absolute denial!)

The world’s longest ‘quick nip’ into TKMaxx (not today darling, I wasn’t really after a gold Buddha kitchen roll holder, thanks though, no don’t cry…)

Balance biking down the high street (bet people didn’t realise they’d be cheating death when they innocently ventured out for a paper and a currant bun!)

Playdoh (not so much modelling as squishing all the colours together and stabbing it with a knife)

Barking at shadows (only ever happens when baby asleep. Were the house to be invaded when baby was awake the dog wouldn’t even notice!)

Phonecall to say Husband late home and won’t make the boys’ bedtime (kill me!)

Bathtime (remind me that I need a wet room when we move. It’ll make a nice change from a room that is just constantly wet!)

But they’re all mine. And I wouldn’t swop them for anything (except for possibly a day at the spa and 24hrs sleep, interested in making me an offer?, get in touch!!)