Monday, 22 September 2014

Hickies and Heisenberg

It's looking rather awkward in the neck department at present.

Sweet Child has given me the mother of all love bites. There she was, a-sucking on my neck, and I indulged her. It was warm and nice and I felt we were having a moment. We have lots of moments because she is a very cuddly, tactile, loving baby.

But there's loving, and there is serious bruising. The above pic was taken two hours after it happened. Now the bruise is black and I look....well, rough as chuff, for want of a better word.

It is now a hideous hickey in an 80s teenager kind of way. Something I never had or wanted in my youth. How ironic that I get one now and it is TOTALLY in yer face. I am wearing a lot of scarves.

I don't think she was trying to latch on for a feed because she knows my boobs are barely up at the top end of my body these days. She would have had more luck if she had latched onto my kneecap...

Anyway, other than giving Dracula a run for his money, Sweet Child has become a mountain goat. She walks around furniture, climbs the stairs, tries to get out of her highchair and is into everything. It's exhausting! She is nine months old tomorrow. 

When she has gone for a nap, I pack all the chores in or do a spot of baking. Here is a Spanish Apple cake which is a Baby Led Weaning recipe. It is LUSH!

And I am still churning out these spinach and cheese muffins.

It was my birthday last week, I had a wonderful time and enjoyed summer weather on my big day. I was sent these books to add to my collection, by my lovely friend Kerry.

The husband spoiled me and we had a lovely day together, pottering by the sea with the baby, sipping Prosecco, indulging in coffee and cake, lunch in the sun. It was lovely. He took me out for dinner a few nights beforehand, which was our first night out in ten months! 

I took a bag that didn't have wet wipes or spare nappies in. I wore perfume and not Eau de Mashed Breadstick. I felt semi human and I ordered gin at the bar, without a small person tugging at my sleeves and announcing they need a poo.

Oh, the husband and I are both feeling bereft after watching the final episode of Breaking Bad. No spoilers here, yo.

But I wonder if we were addicted to it, in a crystal meth kinda way. We are lost without it. We used to sneak off to watch an episode when Sweet Child dozed, absolutely genius show.

Now we are toying with what to watch next. I can't tell you how much I want to watch it all over again from the very first episode.

But in the meantime, I need to find some good concealer for the monstrosity on my neck.

Til the next time...

Tuesday, 16 September 2014

Sleeping bags

I have been up since 5am and am possibly ever so slightly delirious, so do bear with.

I tootled off to bed at midnight which was ridiculously late but I had been busy scoffing buttery sweets from France that I had forgotten about (bit like Wurthers Original but weirder) and wasn't that tired. But then Sweet Child fed twice in the night for half an hour each time before standing up in her cot at 5am and then giving me the cheeky smile that she knows will win me over.

Of course it worked but, man, there is nothing more depressing than coming downstairs when it is still dark and kids' TV hasn't even started. It was just me and Jeremy Kyle. Like a nightmare......if only I had been asleep.

After ten minutes with Jezza and realising that actually, my life isn't all that bad and there ARE people who look worse than me in tracksuit bottoms, I couldn't take it anymore. I was Tattooed Out and sick of all the moronic shouting.

Then I was ready for lunch. But it was only 6am. I hate that.

By the time the morning school run was done, I actually fancied fish fingers, chips and beans and just knew it was going to be a loooooooong day.

But I had success in the cherry tree shop.

Look at this little beauty I got for 20p.

My favourite page is below...

And two days ago I had success.....

The Princess was thrilled. "Oh, it's like...totally me," she proclaimed! 

I was chuffed to have bought her the below shirt too as it's still in H&M at full price. For me, it cost £1.50.

She got this too. I am back in her "Mum is Trendy After All" book. Yo!

I picked up the below for Sweet Childe:

And here she is rocking her cherry tree skirt I bought recently. Aw, I love the baby. She smells of biscuits and porridge and honey. 

I still carry Sweet Child in the wrap sling thing even though she is nine months old next week. This is my view. Look at those lashes.

I mustn't forget the Prince. The funniest kid like, ever.

Yesterday he told me he had big news for me. I had to wait until bedtime for him to tell me. He looked at me earnestly and with wide eyed excitement and said "Today, I found something out. I found out that a chicken is actually a bird..."

And there we have it. Fascinating.  He told me today he had chicken korma for lunch but his friend Ray had chicken pork.

"Um....what's chicken pork exactly?" I asked with interest.

He looked at me with intense irritation and said: "You know exactly what chicken pork is. Everyone knows. It's what you order instead of chicken korma, for goodness sake."


So, I have been on the go for 17 hours and one must get one's beauty sleep before the randomness of tomorrow greets me rudely from 5am.

Although I am a year older tomorrow so I hope to get a slight lie in and let the Husband get it on with Jeremy Kyle instead.

On the Morrow, my friends. And with less eye bags one hopes...

Thursday, 11 September 2014

Totes driven round the bend

So here I am, wrung out like the Pip Studio hand towel my eldest "accidentally" dropped in the bath tonight. 

It has been a looooooong evening and a glass of wine has made a grand entrance into my hand. I never drink in the week usually. The whole Wine O'clock for mums thing has never been my bag.

Until tonight.


There have been tantrums galore, door slamming spectaculaire, hideous nappies, major dinner clear up time (the downside to baby led weaning) baby's all been kicking off round my gaff.

But tomorrow I shall pass three cherry tree shops after toddler group (the group that gets old ladies to bake the most amazing cakes which you can scoff while they cuddle your baby. Yep, cake in peace. C.I.P.)

And I hope to show you my second hand wares.

(It wasn't all bad today, after the school run I skulked back to bed when Sweet Child dozed off, and then woke two hours later, and watched Breaking Bad with the husband before he went to work. No spoilers please. We won't know what to do with ourselves when it's over. JESSE! Swoon)

This is how tired and wrung out I am. Over tired dot com me thinks....

Tuesday, 2 September 2014

(Beyoncé)..... QUESTION

I just blogged but it's gone onto an older date of sometime in July.

Wednesday, 27 August 2014

Basket Case

I am breastfeeding for the umpteenth time and it suddenly dawned on me that I could blog at the same time. Which means I may actually manage to write more than one blog post a month. Go me. 

Mind you, I will never win Achiever of the Year or anything because I achieve nowt most of the time.
However, look this. Just LOOK at it! I know you share my excitement...

Look at its 360 degrees of wickery wonderment.

That, my darlings, is of course, the bottom of my washing basket. My Ali Baba. (Oh, does anyone still call theirs the Ali Baba? It sounds so dated. It's like the Husband referring to the "Swimming Baths" whenever he talks about taking the kids to the pool. Sooooooo 1983.)

Anyway, back to my Ali Baba, the last time I saw the bottom of it was when I bought it in Woolworths, about nine years ago.

This is a major accomplishment. I am on top of the washing. On top of the world. 

(Does one need to get out more when one is taking photos of the bottom of ones washing basket? Most probably. But alas, I have had a mere two hours out without the children in EIGHT MONTHS. I kid you not. I think it has slowly driven me mad).

Anyway, I celebrate the basket's emptiness because it's usually a successful chores day if I can actually cram the lid on top to conceal the zillion pairs of pants and Shreddie-encrusted babygros inside. But today is an epic day and I feel like Washer Woman of the Year. 

So, the end of the six weeks summer holiday is looming...well, this year, no one has pushed their sibling into a deep pond full of carp like last year so it's been a success in terms of non disasters.

OK, so the Princess and the Prince did get bored one morning and changed the sex of Sweet Child from this: this boy child who they named Zac.

As you can see, "Zac" wasn't too keen to start with.....

but "he" soon came round.

And on the whole, it's been surprisingly calm, despite the fact we have the extra child this summer. Not many old people have tutted at us at all on outings. Result!

Mind you, I have my work cut out. Sweet Child is eight months now and started crawling yesterday. 
It's lethal - she doesn't look like she can travel far so I leg it to the kitchen to stir their delicious homemade beef and ale casserole (...well, ok, I mean sling fish fingers in the oven....) and upon my return, she has somehow eaten all the paper off a piece of jigsaw and got it wedged in the roof of her mouth while looking most pleased with herself. 

A fridge magnet was swiftly removed this morning from same infant orifice and it's making my nerves jangle. She must not be left alone. And her brother and sister are hopeless at keeping an eye on her. They are too busy killing each other while watching Home Alone 2. Wish I was Home Alone. Just for a little bit. I would sleep and bathe and sleep and watch trash. 

So I will basically now get nothing done except ensure my Sweet Child comes to no harm, child proof the house and move everything up a level. Funny how you forget baby things.

She is also doing this...

and having a marvellous time!

And what else have we been up to?

We spent two weeks in the south of France. It was heavenly. Best holiday ever in fact.

The Husband did some arty stuff in the fields where we stayed:

All the other pics are on my camera which I must sort. It's on my To Do list. 

Unlike tackling the washing pile. Ha!

Until tomorrow that is. Tomorrow will be spent retrieving items from the baby's fat little fists and no doubt watching that Ali Baba groan once again.

Friday, 25 July 2014

Summer time

Four mums and 11 children have just destroyed the peace at a stunningly idyllic open garden. 
Well, idyllic til we rocked up. Then it was pure 'ideous.

There was a light saber moment, an overdose of Coke sugar rush moment, a toddler trying to do a stand up wee through his trousers moment, a ten-year-old tweenie stopping to apply a zillion layers of lipgloss moment, a boob falling out of blouse when baby refused it at the last minute moment (OK that last one was me) and then a Five Boys Fall Out moment.

But the Husband will come home from work and say "So how was your stroll and coffee with your friends?" In a way that will make it sound like it was a relaxing Ladies Who Lunch affair.
It was nuts.

In fact the Prince has just put himself to bed to recover, which tells you just how full-on it was!
Three are returning in an hour to have tea once they have brushed the mud off their jeans and calmed down. Glutton for punishment, huh?

So, tomorrow is the last day of the summer holidays and my dear, sweet darlings return to school. I can practically hear my party poppers fire from all angles at the thought of, we have had a blast but now I am ready for a little more peace in my world again. And a mooch around cherry tree shops as that hasn't happened in weeks.

Apparently now we are due an Indian Summer.  Summer was so good on the south coast, I feel greedy but I just can't face autumn and winter. I am an utter sun worshipper. This is how it looked over the past few months.

The Prince and Princess are in these deckchairs....Zzzzzzzzz.

Having little sneaky naps........

Love having my baby by the sea.......

Not sure why the Prince chose to wear his Christmas jumper in August but there we go...........

Cooling off hot feet......

sleepy summery siestas......

Pimms Of course!

And so I hope we get a little more warm golden shine before the cruel cold weather sets in.
'cos it makes me a right grumpy old fruit and that will never do!