Thursday, 29 April 2010

I've become what I said I would never be.
For example, I enrolled my son for swimming lessons and somehow missed the renewal date for the next term. Just as he got settled (and I didn't have to sit on the side of the pool for the whole lesson and managed to inch away to the viewing spot with the other parents) the term was up. As I hadn't got the note to pay for the next term - he lost his place. Anyway, as I have become obsessed with how good he is (as I used to swim competitively) I called up the pool and spoke to the poor lad who looks after the lesson bookings. My sentences were peppered with the words 'desperate to get him back in' and 'he's progressed amazingly' and 'I'd do anything'. After I had spoken to him, and exerted as much verbal pressure as a Mum with her childs best interests at heart can do, I ended up speaking to the manager, who assured me something would be done about him missing the renewal and he'd get back in. I sat back satisfied (my husband shaking his head) and thought... I've turned into a pushy mother.
The early signs of this competitiveness, that I did not heed was also my pushchair obsession. To a new mum or dad, the pushchair almost becomes like buying a new car. Once you've shelled out for your first born, for the pushchair that does everything you then (well I did anyway) start to refine your needs. You become very aware of everyone elses pushchair. Casting sly glances (like you do when you like someone's car or shoes better than yours but don't want to admit it) and sneaking quick peaks at the dominant features i.e. colour, seat recline, shopping basket, handles and of course the matching change bag and cosy toes! For me it became a mission and also as time went on from my first child, I found I needed to justify it more so I've ended up going through about six different pushchairs over 4 years.

And so now onto the birthday parties. What is an exceptable level of spend on a 4 year olds party seeing as this is another key competitive area? Surely it can't be more than a few games, food, cake and party bags? Errr no. We've been to lots of parties all varying from hiring halls and bouncy castles to entertainers and mini cars, farm adventures and the biggest hell of all - soft play parties. What happened to good old fashioned pass the parcel sabbotaged by tearing a little of the paper each time its passed so you can see when is down to prize and your ready to pounce or sleeping lions - mums and dads loved that one (almost as good as nap time).

I'm back on the right road to loving my blog time after my 3 month negligence... will let you know how the party does go seeing as its next week... gulp.


Wednesday, 6 January 2010

The chocolate lolly pop - its not what you think

Setting the tone for this post.... a toilet trained 3.5yr old with very good manners... a slightly OCD mother and copious amounts of toilet roll....

Starting to get the picture?

I am sick of living in a house, where as the only toilet cleaner, and only woman I have very impressive toilet manners i.e.

- I wipe the seat clean if there are any little spillages
- 'go faster stripes' are cleaned off with toilet brush (and toilet brush gets a flush rinse too)
- Toilet roll is replaced if finished
- Air freshener is used if unladylike aroma is detained
- Hands are washed with soap and hand towel replaced on the hook/radiator

Basically Drama King has been pretty messy so far (like his father) with wee over the seat, back of the seat, lid, floor and skirting board (HOW???). He also uses about a roll of toilet paper on such a small bottom! HOW??? I am forgiving as he is my small boy - unlike his father who I call 'filthy animal' when faced with his offerings.

This particular time, DK was in there for ages. We were at the dinner table and I was feed Mr T's little chubby face so suitable distracted. "What is he doing in there' I asked my husband for the second time so he might actually get up and have a look. When suddenly we heard the 'Ding' of the toilet brush clashing against the bowl. "Oh no" was the stereo effect from across the table and with look of horror already plastered on his face, husband went to see what was going on.

All I could hear was 'Daddy I was just cleaning like mummy does' came the confident response.

I rushed over to survey the damage and was faced with an empty toilet roll (most of it was on the floor, some in the toilet and some in the sink???!!!)  the chocolate lolly pop - poo on a toilet brush - so much so, you could see more poo than brush and a small boy with an angelic look on his face. Needless to say my OCD took over, I ushered them out and armed with the marigolds, toilet duck and Cif I demolished the offending items. The toilet brush has since been replaced.

Needless to say, I now keep the brush well out of sight and DK gets a little shout after a few minutes 'DK you alright in there' to show I'm paying attention.

Thursday, 31 December 2009

Do I smell of sick? Ahhh get me another vodka...

Oh my god... 2009 is almost over. My list of memorable moments is a rather motley assortment:

Son number 2 had his first birthday and is walking
Son number 1 has become cheeky and leaned to tell lies to his advantage (it was daddy who didn't flush the toilet)
I've lost a whole stone of baby weight - and am still eating a twix on a regular basis
I've had more sleep in the last six months
We've successfully been on holiday to an exotic faraway place with two under 5's!!
I've become an established baker (cake, shortbread, biscuits whipped up in the blink of an eye - little helper included)
My husband has accepted his role and is now doing his fair share of early mornings and bathtimes! YES!
I have managed to get a part time job I am happy in

GOD what more could I want!

We went to a wedding reception last night. It was the first night out for hubby and me since our holiday and I got in from work with time to spare and no need to rush the makeup. Anyway, finally beautified I went down, minus boots and breakable jewellrey, to do bathtime while husband got ready. All done with minimal fuss - timing was running with military precision. Yeah you know its about to come crashing down! My lovely friend babysitting all ready to be on high alert for the evening when.....

Mr T starts coughing.... Drama King is whinging about having another story (because he knows we are going out) and then Mr T starts really coughing. I run up the stairs (as we have a townhouse so two lots of stairs) lift him out of the cot and he CHUCKS HIS GUTS UP all over my party dress and sparkly bolero cardi!!!

JESAS CHRIST!! And a small voice says 'mummy we don't say jesus christ'. DK get back in bed!!!Husband running around in boxers getting DK back into bed and throwing towels at me. Lovely friend comes up to help - catches site of husband half naked and retreats quickly with a 'let me know if I can do anything to help' (he's actually quite attractive for a 40+ man) and I'm texting my lift to the wedding whilst carrying sick covered child to ask if we've got an extra 15mins before pick up time!

We got there eventually, two kids in bed left in the lovely capable hands of my friend.
Doused in perfume, an entierely new outfit minus sparkly bolero, we got to the bar... a large vodka and coke please.  Phew!
Wishing you all a very happy new year!!

Wednesday, 2 December 2009

I've neglected my blog because I've had the good fortune to go on holiday for two weeks. And boy what a holiday... Goa in the south of India - beautiful!

Anyway, I read that 'Is there a plan B' had written a great blog about alienating an entire boeing 747 well you could see from the looks of the people around us that they were GUTTED to be sitting near the only kids on the entire plane!!! Mr T didn't help this by attempting to grab the already thinning head of hair of the bloke in front as we squeezed into our seats. I suppose there are not many people who would drag their kids 11 hours away just for a bit of sun but ultimately we were going with my parents who contriubuted to the cost so we could afford to come with them, and I was going to see my gran - maybe for the last time.

All of this didn't help me when Drama King had watched Madagascar for the 3rd time and run the battery down on the portable dvd player, had an 'accident',  annoyed the man in front ('will you tell your son to stop kicking my seat'), eaten half a packet of biscuits (to buy his silence) and (obviously) became hyperactive and attempted to wrestle with Mr T - who screamed. All in the first hour or so. My best advice is if you are going longhaul - get a night flight. On the way there, the two of them were kept without proper daytime naps and so slept for 80% of the journey - thank god - although this meant I was unable to go to the loo or eat for 8 hours as Mr T was spread eagled across me asleep.

DK has grown in confidence and curiosity since the holiday. This was a conversation with a dodgy fruit seller on the beach:

Hawker on beach: You like to buy some bananas/pineapples/melon (in strong indian accent)
Me: No thank you
DK: Yes I like pineapple
Hawker: Yes you like pineapple?
Me: No thank you (more firmly)
DK: Yes I do like pineapple
Hawker: You want some pineapple or mango (lowering big heavy basket of his head ready to make the sale)
Me: DK be QUIET PLEASE, NO thanks we don't need any fruit
DK: Oh I like mangoes
Hawker: Yes mango? 20 ruppees
Me: AGgggrrhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!
Hawker: Running away with big basket under his arm tripping over the sand
DK: Mummy whats a mango?

So now I'm back to reality with my mocha tan fading under my longjohns, I'm getting on to the next subject... please not more toys for xmas....

Wednesday, 28 October 2009

Am I turning into my mother.... yes I know I am....

After a very busy few days with the kids (play dates, visiting friends, refusing naps, spitting food and water out - mix and match those as you please) I'm back at work for my Monday (everyone elses Wednesday). I actually start the week more exausted that I did when I started on a Monday...

Anyway, I found myself saying to my friend yesterday - it really makes me annoyed when my husband says 'You are so like your mother'. I always loudly and agressively protest this but in the back of my mind this little voice is saying 'you are.... you are... and you know you are...'. So I thought I would share with you a few of the things that are beginning to frighten me about myself.... and are normal habits/phrases from my mother.

1. I find myself looking at the old vegetables in the fridge with new interest…. veg stock, cough medicine, face pack

2. I believe the kids need their winter coats on even though its 19 degrees outside and my 3 yr old is sweating – it is October you know.

3. I tell people ‘oranges will cure everything… but they have to be real oranges not tangerines’ and actually believe it.

4. I have started to add baby bio to the plants that I now actually bother to water

5. I’ve started to contemplate the ‘mummy haircut’ short and practical

6. I have more clothes in my cupboard that are non-iron, practical, cotton and high necked (low necks not a good look when crawling round in a play centre – also recently causing my 3 yr old to yell BOOBIES at the top of his voice!!! – what is happening to him???).

7. 80% of my shoes are comfortable, easy to run in and dont show food/puke stains – as opposed to the ones I’ve put away (high fashion, high heels).

8. I spend much more time contemplating a slipper purchase

9. I get excited about great offers on quality meat in the supermarket (oooh Aberdeen Angus burgers from Waitrose).

10. And worst of all…. I spent time talking about the merits of an electric blanket with a work colleague before we realised ourselves and abruptly ended the conversation.

Feel free to share yours and assure me that I am not alone....

Sunday, 18 October 2009

Whatever happened to softly softly...

The week is about to begin again and its my 3rd week of part time - am really starting to enjoy the lovely balance. Last Monday I decided to embark on the exciting adventure of attending a music group with my Mr T. I was a little apprehensive... being a full time working mummy I never had the chance to go to any groups.

I turned up on time... first victory (get to see the other mums and bubs arrive instead of walking in sweating and puffing and not having time to check out a likely pal) and am greeted by a very jolly young lady who virtually shouts/sings at us as we walk in the door 'HHHEEEELLOOOOOOO... and before I have a chance to speak 'well you must be...' and then writes our names on a sticker and with great ceremony slaps the giant sticker across Mr Ts belly. He looks disdainfully down at the sticker and up again at her - very unimpressed. She directs us to a small room to the side and we go in and settle ourselves... turns out there is only one other attendee (popular class then), a lady with a lovely little baby girl who is not on the move yet but sits nicely. Mr T was at the shoe rack, door, pulling at the floor mats, and pulling himself up on the drum in about 10 seconds flat - he also sits nicely but not for any length of time.

Also turns out operatic dramatic bird from the reception desk is running the class... hence the enthusiasm at another attendee/victim. The next half hour consisted of her wailing out various up tempo versions of well know nursery rhymes that by the time I had figured out what she was singing and started to join in with some enthusiasm, the song was over. Likewise Mr T got quite used to banging on a nice big drum when she 'cleared the instruments away' to bring out something else and then something else... needless to say he thought 'Sod this... you're just gonna take it off me again so I would rather terrorise the small baby to my right as she can't go anywhere' and lost all interest in the show. Thank goodness the other mummy was very chilled and spent the whole session laughing at the Mr T show and then asked us if we would be coming back next week as she would if we did! Another satisfied customer for the songstress then. Unsurprisingly, not planning a return visit tomorrow.

My final thought for the evening... why do children have a knack of saying the wrong thing at such a volume... DK did the 'LOOK THAT MAN IS WEARING LADIES SHOES' yesterday... of course it turns out it was a lady with very short hair and not many curves... I didn't stop to chat. I was too busy yanking my sons arm out of its socket to get across to the other side of the car park.

Thursday, 15 October 2009

Dressing up

I was talking to DK this morning about dressing up for halloween. He is obsessed with Batman and Spiderman so naturally wants to be Batman for a halloween party we're going to. He then followed up with that he wants his baby brother to be spiderman (the thought of my little podgy baby boy in the tight bright blue trousers is hilarious) and that he wants Daddy to be Robin (even more hilarious - yellow tights!) and I can be Superwoman - (nothing funny about me in tights) very pleased.

So I thought we had it all worked out until he saw me browsing the Mothercare Xmas catalogue and spotted the dressing up page - LOOK! He exclaimed - I assumed he spotted the spiderman outfit and had changed his mind about batman - but actually 'Its a pretty princess dress!' pointing at the lovely fairy princess outfit.  'Thats not for halloween' I said. As much as I'd love a girl, I draw the line at my boy dressing up as one, hoping that in some way I am not opressing his creativity!