Friday, 5 June 2015

Jean genie

So the news this week is that I spent an incredible amount of time removing a piece of Special K from the Prince's ear. He somehow managed to wedge a piece of the cereal right inside while watching Superman.
This is him before Cereal Ear Saga.


I thought about tweezers for swift removal of said brittle flake but decided against it. I am, after all, the girl who was taken into hospital at the age of ten after sticking a plastic bead in her ear and having an operation to remove it from her ear drum.
I couldn't work how to get the cereal out without pushing it in further, but then I remembered my brother getting a beetle in his ear as a kid and me pouring a massive jug of water into his lughole and the beetle swimming out in the torrid tsunami.
It worked a treat. Said Special K whooshed out, the Prince could hear again. And I could relax. Until Sweet Child fell off a wooden cart in the garden and grazed her chin. With never ending blood.
Half term.
Such sweet words.
End of half term. 
Even sweeter.
Don't get me wrong, we have actually had a blast as the Husband had the whole week off.
But the house was trashed when the kids returned to school. So the first day back, I decided to thoroughly clean the house. As in deep clean. I decided to wear the husband' old jeans to do this.
Now, I haven't worn my own jeans for 26 months. They just don't fit from the moment I got pregnant til now. So I donned male jeans and cleaned all day. Bleached meself happy, so I did.
Then I threw a coat on and dashed to do the school run.
One mum at the school gate nodded to the fact I was wearing jeans. I explained why. She said she had never seen me in jeans before. I let it go. Was my attire really that noticeable?
Then another mum came up to me and over egged the pudding on the whole "Oh! You are wearing jeans" spiel.
I again pointed out they were my husband's denim slacks which I was wearing as I had been grafting all day.
She then said "It doesn't look right, you wearing jeans. You usually wear pretty dresses or skirts. It doesn't really suit you does it?"
Speechless. Did Levi Strauss ever have to put up with this crap?
I then collected the kids and slouched home in my obviously unflattering kecks and soon forgot about it.
Three hours later a friend dropped by, wanting me to tighten the back of her baby sling while her toddler slept on her back. We were on the doorstep, chatting and I told her about my jeans saga after SHE also noted I was wearing jeans.
I told her why I was wearing them and what the other mums had said and how it made me feel.
And she said "I think it's because you usually look so glam with nice clothes and make up on."
Which didn't really help my mood!
So I may well go another 26 months without wearing jeans...
Moving on, the Prince is six today.
He has gone from this:


To this:


He ate birthday cake for breakfast and told us he felt at least seven years old.


I love this boy so much and am very proud of him.

Right, next blog post, charity finds, I promise....

Monday, 25 May 2015

I'm Only Sleeping

As I write this blog post, I am watching the Prince eat the weirdest snack ever. He is stirring Pom-Bear crisps into pilau rice and scoffing it.........vile.
In today's news, I have scraped the scuzzy hardened brown bitty stuff off the table, which might well have been Weetabix but really there's no way to know for sure. In a bid to spring clean. Even though spring cleaning should have happened yonks ago really.
I'm a bit behind.
But the thing is, Sweet Child takes up time. A lot of time. If she isn't trying to hurl herself off the Weetabix-encrusted kitchen table, then she is dangling precariously off the back of the sofa. Or throwing books down the toilet. Or eating soap. Or finding a way of opening packets of chewing gum. Honestly, I feel I have aged dreadfully and am skipping with glee that I am reading more features about how grey hair is the new big deal in the world of glossy tresses. Thank The Lord, I am finally bang on trend.
Three hours sleep is not part of my plan and so instead of cleaning Weetabix and other unidentifiable matter off the table and doing a full Kim and Aggy clean-up in the house, I have been either dazed and glazed while trying to keep up with the washing or I have tried to do an afternoon nap.
Napping has caused me problems though. I ended up sleeping through the alarm last week and slept through the school run. Oh dear god, I have never felt so stressed.
I woke at 2.50pm which is precisely the time the Prince comes out of his class, then dumps his bag/lunch box/PE kit/drinking bottle/crazy art work and school letters onto me and demands he is hungry and WHY aren't we going to the park. Normally that is stressful enough, but imagine actually sleeping through all that.
With a racing heart, I leapt out of bed, woke Sweet Child, dressed her, crammed her into the sling, tried to find my front door key and phoned the school to say I was on my way...without trying to sound too panicky.
Then as I eventually opened the front door to leave, the phone rang and I had to dash back in and answer it, assuming it was my son's teacher.
But it wasn't. It was the receptionist at the Princess's school to tell me my daughter had been hit hard in the head by a rugby ball. Honestly, beads of sweat were rolling down my forehead by this point and the husband wouldn't be home til gone midnight. It was going to be a long afternoon/evening/night.
Things like this stop me from blogging regularly. Sweet Child ripping her nappy off and weeing through the entire house keeps me from blogging. At first I thought we had a ceiling leak.....then I realised what she had done.
So, sleeping through the alarm, thus failing to make the school run, having the feeling I am NEVER top of the housework, trying to be an adult among three very busy children, all of whom are not known for their Shrinking Violet personas, are all the excuses you need to know why I only make a rare appearance these days.
But I know that when the kids grow up, move out and I am kicking my heels around a quiet, calm, clean house, I shall weep. Mourn for what I had.
This is a good life. It's hectic and I probably wouldn't have it any other way.
In other news though, I did eventually finish the pram blanket for Sweet Child. It has taken me months and months.



Sweet Child is now 17 months old and I miss the newborn stage but love how she has developed. She adores hats, bags and shoes. A proper girl!!!



I was godmother at my nephew's christening. This church is where we married 13 years ago. My parents and grandparents were also married here. Now my grandparents are buried here. It is very special.


We have had picnics galore...

One of my besties came to stay and we went out for dinner and had cocktails and had quality time. We NEVER get time together like that usually.


The husband is due back at any time and we are planning a BBQ later although the sun has gone in and it looks cold. As standard when we plan a BBQ...Ho hum.

I have bought some lush things from cherry tree shops recently so I hope to blog about those sometime soon, perhaps before Sweet Child is 18.

Sunday, 19 April 2015

Aftermath of the Chocolate Haze

So Easter came in a typical whirl of crazy calorie consumption and hyper kids who thought eating chocolate for breakfast was the Best Thing Ever.

It was like Willy Wonka's factory and then some. I look like an Oompa Loompa too, come to think of it, as a result of over indulging. I can't blame the baby for my weight anymore, it's a pure chockywockydoodah belly and I need to sort it fast.
The Husband worked all Easter except Easter Monday so it was fraught in parts (mainly Foxpoogate which I can't talk about for fear of coming up in hives and naughty children who may have driven me to tears at one point).
The Easter hols were fab on the whole although I couldn't really enjoy charity shop perusing as three kids tend to prevent me doing things to indulge myself. My time will come, probably.
But I did buy a gorgeous bonbon dish just before school broke up, which I kept filling with Mini Eggs.....and scoffing and then refilling. HEAVENLY.


The Trio of Terror have been keeping me on my toes. Sweet Child has been a pickle and I have been sleep training her for the sake of my own sanity. Friday night was hard as I don't agree with leaving children to cry but things are changing for the better.
She is a wonderful, gorgeous little girl with the most hilarious personality. She is obsessed with Batman and also loves knitted dollies and smelling daffodils. 
But man I need to sleep more than three hours a night!


This below pic was at 6.30am today, she was full of beans and far too noisy while the rest of the household tried to sleep.



Now the other two junior villains are back at school, I am working hard as a freelancer, juggling that with ensuring Sweet Child doesn't hurl herself off the kitchen table or try to eat fridge magnets and also trying to stay away from the kids' Easter eggs. And let me tell you, the latter is the hardest part.
Hoping to hit cherry tree shops this week!

Saturday, 21 March 2015

Sweet Child and the weary muvva.

 Sweet Child keeps revealing my breasts in public. She has also started ramming her hands down my top to have a quick shuffle and check the food is still there, should she want it. In the same way I open the fridge to check no one has eaten my Double Decker, I guess.
She is also climbing on the kitchen table and it's driving me utterly mad.
And when she isn't doing all that, she is slamming the toilet lid down, taking out the coal from the gas fire and rubbing it all over her face and refusing to let me sleep more than an hour at a time.
So, this post is brief, because all has gone quiet in the living room and I am in the kitchen. I shall brace myself for what she may have done.
And I can't even begin to start telling you about the Chewing Gum Episode but all I shall say is this; she had very minty drool and a shocked face...
Here she is in her £1 cherry tree skirt.


and here she is about to climb Everest again.......


I must locate Sweet Child. Whom I really should rename Wild Child. Well, she sends me flipping wild at times in any case.

Saturday, 14 March 2015

Sofa So Good

It's been a while my chums. How's it hanging?
Remember me? Here I am, trying to look coy in a bid to look less...well....knackered really.


 It's true, I haven't blogged in ages.
Right, I have been all whirled up like a Walnut Whip of late and can't seem to slow any aspect of life down, but busy times are good and it keeps me from loafing around on the sofa watching Jeremy Kyle.
Not that I fancy the sofa much as it harbours filth. I hoovered underneath the sofa recently on a rare whim and under all the seat cushions. Well, there was enough dry cereal under there to feed a family of ten for a week. Hideous. I also unearthed: four hair grips, three Lego men...one missing a head (which I hope Sweet Child hasn't eaten), a whole ball of fluff resembling a grey kitten, two segments of satsuma, seven raisins, three children's books, a rice cake, a Harry Potter wand, white feathers, a keyring, two pens, a lipstick, a ruler and a dried slice of cucumber. Vile. Domestic sluttery at its best.
I am juggling freelance work with raising three children, trying..and failing it seems...to keep a clean house, and keeping on top of all the school letters that demand the kids to dress up as World Book Day characters and remembering school trip money and raffle ticket purchases and homework diaries to be signed and after school club info and Comic Relief mufti day where kids must wear red and one had to donate a hamper item for the spring fair and the other had to take money for donation. Then there are toddler groups. A garden to sort, endless washing and all on such little sleep it makes me shudder.
So I fell into a cherry tree shop and treated myself to these pretty Victorian plates. Oh I love them!


Dear Sweet Child is nearly 15 months and a total dolly:



Here she is showing off my new Ladybird book...



I have been baking cheese scones:



Enjoing a VERY rare night out with the Husband:


Enjoying sandy walks with the Trio of Terror


Trying not to chuckle at the World Book Day efforts:

Puss was without (muddy) boots in the house


Diary of a Wimpy Kid


Then Red Nose Day happened:



Superheros made me laugh:


Saw one of my best friends:


And just look at the Ladybird collection growing!!!


And Spring is on its way, it's a lovely time of year!


So spring cleaning will now commence. Mind you, if I found that mucky lot under the sofa, imagine what I will find under the kids beds......gulp..........at least they aren't teens yet.


Thursday, 29 January 2015

The kids are alright

So Shingles is in da house. 
And like a truly unwelcome Celebrity Big Brother contestant, I want Shingles evicted now please. Enough of your larger than life presence.
Oh and have no sympathy for me please, because while I am fully aware that it affects older people, it's actually the dear sweet Princess who is suffering. She of 11 years and two months of age. We spent most of Saturday morning in A&E and she's now knocking back anti viral tablets like there's no tomorrow. 
What with that and the Prince being investigated in hospital for tummy problemos and the Sweet Child giving me heart tremors every time she runs so fast she almost ricochets off the laminate flooring, it's fair to say I am ageing rapidly.
It's been a month since I last blogged. Totally shocking but time is not my own. It will be one day, but not at the moment.
Apart from two trips with Sweet Child into a cherry tree shop where I firstly picked up a Ladybird book to add to my vast collection.


And secondly, I found a mate for this:


Look!!!!!


The first is a 50s Babycham glass and the second is a 60s beauty. So pleased and they seem to love one another.


A couple of quid each and now I want a collection of them like my jelly moulds. I am definitely getting old.

Anyway I am thinking about spring and Easter at the moment. I hate this gloomy weather, I want the warm sun on my face and I want Sweet Child to toddle on the sand when it's low tide.


I am loving every second with Sweet Child who is now 13 months. Even when she occasionally starts the day at 4am and I am forced to watch reruns of Jeremy Kyle, if only to remind myself that our life is a very good one.


In other news we celebrated the Husband's birthday with an age appropriate Breaking Bad breakfast:


And...darn it, now I hear a night terror erupting from the Prince.......I shall return in less than a month. Eek, he's really going for it tonight. LOUD. Gah!

Monday, 29 December 2014

Christmas Cheer and what to call the New Year

Right, can I just get something off my ample chest? Something that really bugs me?
What year are we in? What year will it be on January 1st?
It's now 2014 and then it will be 2015, of course. But how do you say those years?
I guess you say two thousand and fourteen and will then welcome the New Year by saying "Happy two thousand and fifteen" over a glass or two of champers.
Right?
But is it right? Really?
We all used to call 1999 "nineteen ninety nine".....as did Prince or AFKAP or whatever the heck he is now known as.
Then we kinda had to refer to 2000 as two thousand as it wouldn't sound right to say "twenty hundred". But once you get to 2009 and have called it two thousand and nine, you should then leap to "twenty ten" and "twenty eleven" and so on.
Because I was born in 1975 (I know, an utter spring chicken), it was "nineteen seventy five" and never ever "one thousand nine hundred and seventy five".
OK, what are your thoughts? Let me know. But I am calling the new year "twenty fifteen" cos that's what it is.
Moving on, cos my brain is getting a little addled with numbers now, how was Christmas?
Ours was wonderful, once again spent at my parents. We went to Christmas carols at the church where we married, tucked the children up in bed and then tucked into gin and cheese and then Christmas Day was wonderful. It zoomed by. We were Merry, games were played, the children's happy faces warmed my heart and I thought of those who were no longer with us, and silently raised a glass in honour of them all.
Here are the highlights and hey, Merry Twenty Fifteen darlings.
Firstly, Sweet Child turned one on December 23rd. We enjoyed a sweet little birthday tea party at my sister's on Christmas Eve but I don't have photos of her to show off yet. She wore a Rose pink floral frock and looked adorable. I shall show you in a future blog post.


She has been walking for a few weeks and struts around in these little darlings:


And here was our Christmas.








Now, where did I put that final tub of Quality Street?