Thursday, 31 December 2009
Wednesday, 30 December 2009
She may be slightly losing her marbles: she may repeat herself; not remember names; she may even have to have a note in her glasses case to remind her Grandad has gone.
Indeed she does cry a bit, quite a bit and her hearing aid will whistle as you hug her tight.
But, she is still Grandma and she can still have fun.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Friday, 25 December 2009
Yes, this morning Isobel was heard, by witnesses, saying 'byebyeloveyou' *kiss*.
Ah it melts a mother's heart.
Well, it would do if she hadn't said it to a bloomin' toy Isle of Wight Squirrell.
Nope, I haven't heard it since.
Wednesday, 23 December 2009
In his words 'that's it and all about it'. But that isn't it, it's not all about it although I'm not really sure what is all about it.
I just know I have a great big Grandad shaped hole in my world and no body can fill it, certainly not unless the have ridden on elephantswith Bashatampi and been called the old man at 22, or taught me to use chopsticks using bic biros to demonstrate.
Oh Grandad, watching you shrink was hard enough but now you are gone...
Grandad wasn't just my Grandad, there are plenty of us Grand and great grand children about. But I like to think of myself as the longest serving Granddaughter and I have the first Great-Grandchild to bear the family name. It is because of Grandad that I have always been so proud of my family name, and indeed my family. Anyway, Grandad has been the biggest and most consistent male figure in my life.
He taught me to drink whisky, and I'm sure it was a test for suitors when he poured them one of his 4 finger measures, I also think i got my gin habit from him, always believing 'you shouldn't have too much blood in your alcohol stream'.
I failed at journalism (well, I only ever tried Reuters and then gave up)but I know my Grandad was always proud of me. In fact that was the thing Grandad was always proud of everybody, whatever they did.
His / the family (well RAF) toast, he always recited is:
Here's to it and from it,
And to it again.
Those who get to it,
And don't do it,
will never get to it,
To try and do it again.
Grandad was a storyteller and I like to think that if we all remember a little of those stories than we will come close to something that resembles him.
While I close my eyes to hear his voice, and try to remember that 'to live in the hearts of those you love most, is not to die,' here are some pictures:
Friday, 18 December 2009
Thursday, 17 December 2009
My slippers aren’t glass. But, I do always have to be home by midnight.
No spontaneous drinking and dancing until the wee hours of the morning. No spontaneity AT ALL; there is always a babysitter to relieve.
I know, as PD will always be quick to point out, that I chose to have my baby and therefore I should have expected this. But I suspect sometimes even those who planned and tried for years to get a baby sometimes feel the same way.
I mean you KNOW it will be the case; and you KNOW it will be worth it; but sometimes it sucks.
Monday, 14 December 2009
Saturday, 12 December 2009
Your daughters first smile; first word; first time she says mummy; first steps...
The list is endless.
And then there is the first time you find yourself pulling a worm out of your daughter's bottom.
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Friday, 11 December 2009
Now I wasn't lucky enough to be sponsored to write this post, but hey I thought I'd like to write my post anyway.
Not so much rules but more how I like my Christmas to be.
It's pretty much always been the same but some of the major players have turned into bit parts in my life, but heigh ho - Christmas is still Christmas.
I've always been very lucky in love and have never had to divide my Christmas between mine and someone elses family. My first love lived around the corner so we could still be together on the day, and the only Christmas I wasn't at home , he wasn't either because we were in OZ. My longest relationship was with a guy who was half danish, his maternal half. This very conveniently meant his family celebrated on Christmas Eve.
PD, well PD and I are making a new family tradition just for our little family. We spend Christmas eve together. This year Isobel and I will go to his place for lunch so Isobel can open her pressies in situ and they will become the toys at Daddy's house. He's already planning his menu after which we will return to mine for cheese and port and little girl will open her presents from me.
Otherwise you may still find me own the pub with my school friends Christmas eve - yes nigh on 20 years on that kind of gathering still takes place.
So, that's Christmas Eve.
Christmas Day, it's up bright and early and in the car to catch the one Christmas morning ferry to the Isle of Wight. I actually love this ferry trip. No one is grumpy, everyone is sparkly and it get's me out of Christmas lunch preparation.
In fact we will arrive at Mummy's just in time to open the fizz.
This year we have decided to limit the amount of time we expect little ones to sit at the table by swapping a seated started for canapes that can be eaten as the children open the one present they are allowed from under the tree, the one that is meant to keep them amused until after lunch.
This does mean I am redundant as chief starter-prettier-upperer, but I'm sure I'll cope. It will also allow a space between this and lunch, more room for turkey and sprouts.
My mum will make a fantastic Christmas lunch with more stuffings than you could possibly imagine, including apple and celery for me.
And then, and only then it is presents! Presents dished out by Hayley probably, presents we all open one at a time, thus filling pretty much the rest of the day.
Boxing day lunch is bubble and squeak and a cheese board that lasts ALL day.
Oh and the bestest and newest thing Mummy and I have come up with this year - the children can wear fancy dress!
Thursday, 10 December 2009
We had a small tussle over getting in her pushchair at nursery, but that was forgotten before we got out the gate.
Isobel sung and kicked her boots all the way home. We got in and snuggled up on the sofa to watch tele. We paused to dance to the Nick Jr children in need song, and then resumed snuggling.
At bathtime, the telly was switched off and off up the stairs we went. Isobel pretended to do a wee on the loo, brushed her teeth and climbed into her bath to play.
Out of the bath, a snuggle, some milk, a book or two and Elmo and Andrea Bocelli and then bed.
Not a murmer, just a 'bye mummy' and she's asleep.
Contrast this to last evening when PD was here. I don't really know what happens when he is around, we love him dearly but...
Maybe I'm so intent on being a good mum I tense up, maybe Isobel get's confused by having both parents around, perhaps PD is just stricter than I am, I just choose my battles.
But, when I most like her to be the angel child she more often than not is, when I want her daddy to see what a great little team we make, Isobel can be a bit of a madam.
It's a shame because one of my favourite things is when Isobel takes both our hands.
Tuesday, 8 December 2009
Isobel and I have crammed all our Christmas entertaining into one weekend so I thought I'd let you know our tips.
For half a dozen under twos (yes I am a little loopy and no I didn't get snaps, nearly took some of aftermath) you need 50 cocktail sausages. Oh actually it was 49, I found an ember of an escapee two days later. Feed the mums, and dad, fizz and pomegranate juice, scatter party with a liberal sprinking of chocolate coins and all will be absolutely lovely.
Sunday was lunch for 8 at mine. Isobel being the only tea-totaler.
Our secret this time, those homemade truffles and racing brussel sprouts.
Other than that today we did Christmas wrapping. Combine my tasteful brown paper with my pet elf's finger painting skills and we finally have things to put under the tree!
Here are our paperchains, no idea why I took it at the jaunty angle (I was sober).
Truffles: 225g plain chocolate, 175 ml double cream. Heat the cream to a rolling boil and pour over the chocolate (already broken up of course). Allow to set a little in the bowl then scoop out with a teaspoon, with icing flour dusted hands roll into balls and then into cocoa or nuts. If you fancy a tipsy truffle add about 50ml of booze, but these truffles will be messier to roll. If you like the ginger idea you can wizz in stem ginger, or cheap and use a ginger chocolate bar as part of the recipe.
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Monday, 7 December 2009
Sunday, 6 December 2009
Saturday, 5 December 2009
It wasn't the sparkly, pretty costumes that too my breath away.
Nope, it was a little known dancer wearing peppa pig pjs who took me by the hand and danced me around the sitting room.
No pause for judges comments for us, the ba-ba black sheep of the musical shape sorter kept us swirling and twirling.
I love being a mum.
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Thursday, 3 December 2009
Next year I may get inventive with the pinking shears.
And next year little girl better be more interested and get her own tongue out, rather than just eating the strips, dragging the chains around and refusing to let Mummy up the steps.
Today is the third day and I will be drinking in the festive spirit.
Wednesday, 2 December 2009
Tuesday, 1 December 2009
I wasn't lucky enough to be rewarded for writing about Christmas rules but I have enjoyed reading all the posts.
In fact I think I have nearly given away all of mine in the comments boxes, but I thought I'd write this post anyway!
Today is the first so the tree has gone up. I started this tradition in the grim days of my accounting exams, they were the last week in November so the tree was my treat. This year Isobel helped, I think I may need to secure the tree.
I have also realised I need more decorations, the subtle balls in the dining room just don't cut it when you are 1 and 3/4s.
Tomorrow I begin the hunt for good old fashioned silver paperchains.
I will let you know the rest of the rules tomorrow.
A spoiler for you though - I love brussel sprouts!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Monday, 30 November 2009
In fact it's about a 5 second one, as in if I leave the room it is, at most, 5 seconds before I hear 'Mummy' followed by the patter of tiny feet as she rushes to check I have not left the building.
My hand is held firmly, just in case I decide to wander off again. You know a little like James James Morrison Morrison Weatherby George Dupree.
This can be a little limiting but on Sunday afternoon it turned out to be quite enabling.
We popped along to London Zoo courtesy of SuperSavvyMe to meet other Mummy bloggers. The two hours before the meet looked something like this:
Saturday, 28 November 2009
If I was a dog, which I'm not, you would have seen my right ear, the ear nearest the door, permenantly pricked listening out for chattering come from little girls room.
It was easy to do this and doze between 6 and 8 and the the mummy guilt started. It went something like this:
This is nice... This is easy... Should I be missing isobel more... Does that mean I'm not missing her enough... Am I enjoying this too much... Does that make me a bad mummy...
Anyway, I made myself a bacon sarnie and went back to bed.
At 9:30 the phone rang. It was PD, isobel had been asking for mummy and home all morning.
20 minutes later my limpet arrived home.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Friday, 27 November 2009
Thursday, 26 November 2009
This is a picture of me and my Daddy. I think I am about four here and I think my parents are already divorced.
If you look in the background you can see an orange hat from my Paddington Bear that Daddy gave me. I'm not sure if this started my Paddington fixation or was because of it, but when the sign on my bedroom door read Paddington Bear's best friend is Zoe Louise, it was true - well at least the other way round.
To say Daddy and I have a distant relationship would probably be very apt. It's not my Daddy doesn't love me, I know that, it's just that it has been a long time since he was part of my daily life.
Distance itself didn't help: he worked abroad in Nigeria, lived in Yorkshire, and he had another family, even complete with it's own Zoe.
I'm not bitter about it, yes I have my issues, but I'm not harbouring any resentment towards my Daddy, it just is the way it is. (But, I would be lying if I said this isn't part of the reason I feel so bad that I haven't given my little girl a traditional family)
All that said it was really lovely to introduce him to my beautiful little girl, his first grandchild to bear his name and his chin dimple (yes me too).
And even though he said little people didn't like him, by the end of the visit she didn't want him to let her go.
Wednesday, 25 November 2009
Sunday, 22 November 2009
Friday, 20 November 2009
Little girl has returned from nursery with yet another sore bum. I don't know what it is they do, I suppose I know what they don't do - change her quick enough. Anyway I'm not here to rant about that. Her poor little bum bum is so sore she didn't even want to have a bath.
As a Mummy I obviously know best and I was sure that a bath with some tea-tree oil would do her a world of good. Well her bottom anyway.
While She loves having her ducks in her bed, the one thing she loves best in her bath is her Mum.
So I stripped off and climbed in.
My lady garden is always EXTREMELY well tended, even when pregnant.
Being my own gardener of late I decided to let things grow a little to invest in some professional pruning.
It seemed my undergrowth (I haven't let it become over growth) was fascinating to Little girl. 'Oh mummy' was said more than once. She compared mine to hers; when I drew my knees up because at this point I was self-conscious (yes me), she stood up to look over my knees.
And then, she tried to wash it away!
Wednesday, 18 November 2009
Saturday, 14 November 2009
It was taken before we drove down a blowy and very wet M3.
It was taken long before we boarded the ferry.
And, way before we set sail on a VERY choppy Solent.
It was taken when I didn't even imagine that at any point in the day I would be so covered in Isobel vomit that it would even soak through to my knickers.
Thursday, 12 November 2009
OK so this isn't a great way to be but it isn't all bad.
It has provoked a further de-cluttering of the house as I scour it for things I can sell on eBay - don't stand still too long I may list you.
I'm also finally working through the drawers full of stockpiled free samples. I always thought I was keeping them for guests who may have forgotten something. But now I have no spare room and it's my skin that is becoming the pampered guest.
I shop in Iceland for frozen veg, I must say I do pack it all in a Waitrose bag and I am sure I have muttered more than once: 'Come on Isobel let's go to Waitrose now'.
I take a packed breakfast and lunch to work which obviously will have me at supermodel proportions very soon, so even I will take up less space at home.
Monday, 9 November 2009
So if that breaks my heart what would this do to me:
Social networkers are being urged to get involved in a new online campaign to find Madeleine McCann by spreading a video appeal around the world. The video shows pictures of Madeleine and what she would look like two years after her disappearance, aged six.
Saturday, 7 November 2009
You get back from a lovely afternoon with friends; an afternoon in which your daughter has been so friendly, so good at sharing her toys and generally delightful.
As you unpack the pushchair you are reminded of last weeks trip to the Chemist where your daughter danced around the shop while you waited for your prescription
How are you reminded?
You find a baby sponge in the basket that you didn't pay for.
Your angel girl is a SHOPLIFTER and you are the unwitting getaway driver!
Friday, 6 November 2009
I mean if I'm not on the stage then surely the curtain is down?
Anyway, it's funny to think that as I type one of my very dearest friends is getting married. She is undoubtedly looking stunning and radiant and marrying a lovely man.
But, as the wedding is a very intimate one and as we are NCT friends and inviting us all would add 50% to the number of guests, we can only imagine what a lovely time they are having and wish them well.
CONGRATULATIONS Mine and Hugh!!!!!
All that said, we did make sure she had a good pre-wedding evening.
Firstly she had me grappling with her ample bosom in the bathroom of her lovely hotel room. No it was a last minute fling, get your minds out of the gutter please.
I was simply anointing her with nail varnish remover.
No, again this isn't some strange fetish - I was helping reduce the dodgy streaks from her spray tan. Yes, ladies (and boys) it works. This is my handy hint of the day.
Then the rest of the gang came for burgers and champagne while watching the fireworks across London from the balcony of Mine's Richmond Hill hotel room.
A fabulous evening spent with some people I now count as my dearest friends.
Mine, you are beautiful in so many ways, and our daily chats mean the world to me. May you all be happy and the deepest depths only be those you dive to. xx
Pictures taken by Leela
Tuesday, 3 November 2009
Nothing new there.
Isobel was dancing around the room in one of my bras, as she does - so, nothing new there either.
Unfortunately Isobel's arms have grown a bit longer than they were and she managed to rummage at the back of the drawer and found one of mummy's 'toys' *blush*.
Then she proceeded, while wearing my bra, to use said toy as a microphone *blush deep deep beetroot red*.
Hmm, I won't disturb you posting a picture, I don't want to be judged on size!
Monday, 2 November 2009
This is a completely different, but equally as sinful a post.
You see I always swore to myself that my child wouldn't constantly watch tele. She would draw, paint, cook, play, and go on the swings.
In short she would be 'stimulated'.
Unfortunately, Isobel has discovered the delights (loosest sense of the word)of Peppa Pig. Yes, the pink, eyes on one side of the head, puddle jumping, Peppa Pig. She whose whole family falls on the floor with laughter.
PD has taken to drawing characters from the show for her, he's got quite good at it.
And not only do we now have it on the sky plus - oh yes it's gone beyond the 5:30, after nursery showing - I'm ashamed to say I have it on my iPhone.
Wait it gets worse...
I have it on my iPhone and when Isobel gets up at 6:30 ish, we lie in bed and watch it.
Oh no, you haven't heard the worst of it...
I have even been known, in the interest of sane adult conversation (i.e. conversation where all parties are at the table not one adult guarding the stairs), to put on Peppa pig during a Sunday pub lunch.
Isobel does do all the other things I mentioned at the beginning of the post, but I, I mean we, have succumbed to the charms of this red dressed porcine lovely. In fact it often feels like we have 'Peppa pig until you die from it', but without the ensung bacon sarnies. Oh no, hang on a minute, that would be if she died from it.
Not only that, I am actually quite excited that at last Nick Jr is putting on new episodes.
Maybe excited is too strong a word, perhaps relieved is more appropriate.
Friday, 30 October 2009
at nursery yesterday.
No time to make a costume like last year.
Luckily, as a seasoned festival goer, Isobel owns a tutu and a pair of
What more does a girl need?
Tuesday, 27 October 2009
I haven't GOT the horn; what it really is, is that I am ON the horns of a dilema.
A schooling dilema - yes already. But no, not about actual schools. Just about nursery. I say just, but it has me perturbed.
A few months ago they wanted Isobel to move up to the next class, but I didn't want her to go without her friends.
I was assured they would move Isobel with at least one of her gang - Elif. Perfect, as Elif is 2 days younger, Elif who we have known since she was days old and Elif whose mum is one of my very dearest friends.
But now it transpires that there is only place and I have been asked to move Isobel alone. So, I hear you say, say no again.
If I say no, they will ask Mine to let Elif go, if Mine says no it will be Charlotte who is asked to move. So ultimately one of the gang has to go it alone.
It terrifies me and I have no idea why.
Sunday, 25 October 2009
be one of the best: the clocks go back, an hours extra sleep. Yay for
that in itself, but that means a lie-in AND time to prep lunch for
friends, two of my favourite Sunday activities.
Well, that was life before my little girl. Now, I have no idea what a
lie-in is. And unfortunately babies do not come with a mass update
function like mobile phones.
Last year we really had no issue, we carried on as usual and Isobel
This year, I thought I'd hedge my bets, especially with the 6 am get
ups we've had lately. 5 am get up? No thank you!
So, last night Isobel and I bathed and put on our pjs. Yes, I do mean
we, Isobel was in fetching peppa pig ( post yet to come) and me in a
glorious pair of GAP checked ones.
As a treat we headed back down stairs to snuggle on the settee with
milk and In The Night Garden. So far so good.
As an extra special treat (or cunning ploy) I thought we girlies would
have an extra half an hour and watch the pretty ladies in their swirly
dressses trip the light fantastic...
At 7:10 Isobel got up from the settee and said 'bye-bye mummy, night
night' and proceeded to take herself off up the stairs to bed.
Yep, we were up at 5:30 this morning. Well, by up I mean in my bed
watching Peppa Pig on the iPhone.
Sent from my iPhone
Saturday, 24 October 2009
Thursday, 22 October 2009
It is worth spending a couple of extra bob on your leggings to avoid
the whole world being able to see what you had for breakfast - this I
dedicate to the lady who was rummaging around in hers as she walked in
front of me this morning.
Sent from my iPhone
Wednesday, 21 October 2009
But, this morning another commuter chat showed actually how in touch I am:
- I do Twitter - Ok it's sporadic and as I socialise less in real life I seem to be even worse at virtual socialising
- I am on Facebook - haven't updated my staus in years but I am there.
- I know about Etsy, Notonthehighstreet, and folksy.
- I am wearing v. fashionable red brogues
- Not only have I manged to read a Guardian news story in the last few weeks, I have retained enough knowledge and understanding to discuss it!.
Maybe I might be more than one dimensional after all.
Monday, 19 October 2009
Generally I am actually quite pleased to hear myself being called Mummy.
A while ago I read somewhere that parents who start to call each other Mum and Dad will find their sex lives waining.
As PD and I are meant to be reducing that kind of activity, the fact that we seem to have slipped into the habit of refering to each other as Mum and Daddy doesn't really matter. Now I come to think of it he calls me Mum more than I him Dad, but, we won't go there.
Yes, I did think it was something I would never do, but what did I know. I promise we only do it when talking to or around Isobel, not in the pub over a pint or anything.
As this is the case, I was really surprised when Isobel knew what my name is. I mean my real name.
Saturday, 17 October 2009
I'm sorry you are feeling poorly; I'm sorry I forgot your pink fizz
and lost your card; and in a way I'm even sorrier I put my back out
(bloomin painful and entirely impractical).
But I am very happy that my angel child ( yes,I mean angel, it always
happens that I write something about her being a madam and the next
day she reminds me that she is 99 % a star ) and I are here with you.
How we get home tomorrow is anyone's guess, but we are here and we
Lots of love xx
Sent from my iPhone
Friday, 16 October 2009
To say my daughter can be a bit of a madam is not an understatement, she is a bit, but it feels me with epic proportions of dread.
It is something I am keen to nip in the bud. Well a little bit.
The last thing I want is to raise a brat. But a little mischief is OK, in fact it is desirable.
And confidence, well that I'd like to give her in spades.
So, while I am in this frame of mind, imagine how I felt to be pulled aside by Isobel's nursery teacher to be told she had bitten, yes I said bitten, twice that day.
She wasn't the initiator but she did retaliate, and then in shock she cried. It's a bit of a double edge sword isn't it: you don't want her to bite but you want her to stand up for herself.
Now I get to bit all parents get to, I have the excuses...
She is having problem with her final molars, the way she gnaws on her own fingers is somewhat of a clue; she's only 1 1/2 how do you discipline a 1 1/2 year old; it's just a phase, all toddlers go through it.....
But really, I wanted to cry (completely out of proportion), I looked at her differently and I didn't know what to do.
I just wanted to do better for both of us, hey ho we'll get there. She'll train me soon enough.
Thursday, 15 October 2009
Hood because that s her Daddy's surname (Isobel has mine)
And Little Red Riding Hood - well that's pretty self explantory me thinks.
(Oh, and btw, I bought that a coat in a GAP sale for £5.99 6 months ago, gotta love the GAP sale.)
Wednesday, 14 October 2009
Tuesday, 13 October 2009
Karl is six weeks old but was three weeks early, so he is perfectly formed and little.
But you'll just have to take my word for it because I didn't take any pics (Duh?!).
Little Karl was lovely and sleepy, sleepy because he'd kept his Mum up during the night. Little Karl was lovely and cuddly and snuggly and had ickle tiny weeny hands with even littler nails.
Isobel only complained a little when I held him, and with them both closeI found it dfficult to imagine her being that little.
But you know what, as much as I loved her being a little baby, I wouldn't swap where she is now for then...
and I didn't feel broody at all.
Monday, 12 October 2009
Are we genetically programmed to appreciate and prefer pretty things? Who teaches us what is pretty and what isn't?
Could you tell your child that things that are ugly are actually pretty? When I teach Isobel that it's a 'pretty flower' how does she then know which people that word can apply to?
If you were hiring a nanny would you hire a pretty one so your child was surrounded by beauty or an ugly one to boost your ego?
What if you taught them the wrong names for things, how old would they be when they found out (and how much would they HATE you for it)?
Isobel is learning new words and understanding more and more each day, while most of this is imparted without effort, what if you applied yourself to teach them the wrong way?
Don't panic, I'm not using my daughter as some kind of social experiment, but one could couldn't one, if one really wanted to?
Sunday, 11 October 2009
Just as she had become part of our furniture and our daily lives; just as we were getting to know her and her to know us; and just as she was getting used to the amount of walking we do here (lots) compared to in Jo'burg (none).
I must confess I was worried at first, I mean it's hard enough when you want to impress your Mother out of law, but you really don't want her instantly seeing why her son left!
But I don't think it turned out that way.
Isobel fell in love, Nanny is now included in the morning roll call.
Granny in SA, you will be missed. x
(At this point I'd like to post a picture of them drying their hair together, or playing peek-a-boo, but I'm ashamed to say I don't have one. Hopefully PD will post one soon; it is after all it is he who will miss his Mum most of all.)
Friday, 9 October 2009
Yesterday was one of those days; one of those days that leaves you smiling all the way through to the next day.
I’m still smiling; I’m still feeling the love.
Thank you everyone, thank you indeed.
Thursday, 8 October 2009
Wednesday, 7 October 2009
Sunday, 4 October 2009
Sun (a little, though not in this picture); sea (more than you would
expect, picture to come); sand (check)....
When it's not your mother-in-law because you aren't married and it's
not really an outlaw because you aren't even together anymore, how do
I refer to PD's mum?
I guess I'll leave it to Isobel who calls her Nanny.
Yep, we are an extended disfunctional family this weekend; it
functions quite well, we are having a good time.
Friday, 2 October 2009
I feel that I have been neglecting you of late and I thought I'd drop you a note to apologise.
You haven't received the attention you deserve and for that I am sorry. I'm afraid my thoughts have been elsewhere for a while, and while much of I would like to have blogged about, I haven't.
But, it's OK the nice man at The Priory has given me more little white pills and once the nausea and fog that they bring with them clears I am sure I will be back to my usual bloggy self.
Indeed, we have an award ceremony to attend.
Anyway, so much to say but so little motivation right now.
Catch you later.
Thursday, 1 October 2009
I must confess to being partial to a little reading while spending time on the loo. Normally this involves Grazia or Living magazines, and at present the book Sum.
Well, I say at present.
But, most recently it's been the Gruffalo and has involved a little girl sitting on my lap at the same time.
I've heard what they say about the family that plays together...
Wednesday, 30 September 2009
Monday, 28 September 2009
Wednesday, 23 September 2009
Tuesday, 22 September 2009
It seems that in the last three months I have developed PMTNCS - Pre-menstrual Total Nutcase Syndrome.
My anxiety levels soar beyond the unfriendly knot I carry in my stomach most days; my general fearfulness and depression deepens. I feel like I'm drowning and am overwhelmed by, well by absolutely everything.
I cope and I put one foot in front of the other. I fix a smile on my face and keep repeating in the style of an old steam train 'I know I can, I'm sure I can'.
Meanwhile I pluck up courage and cry down the phone to my Mum, because I just can't cope with feeling that way; because I feel like I am going completely and utterly insane.
Anyway, back to Sunday. Isobel was riding her trike; Isobel was wearing her blue shoes as she didn't want to wear her Converse; Isobel was refusing to put her feet on the pedals, choosing instead to drag her toes across the ground.
I could hear myself 'Pick your feet up Isobel, good girl.'
Nothing wrong there. But try hearing it over and OVER again in the space in a very short journey.
Isobel, funnily enough had enough, and I had enough, not of her but of me.
It wasn't so much the nagging, but being an ineffective nagging parent. You know the type, the type where the parent's ineffective nagging is far more annoying than the child's behaviour.
Anyway, at this point I dispatched PD and Isobel to the park while I went and wept into a cup of coffee.
Monday, 21 September 2009
I know that at this point in her life Isobel is learning more things at a quicker pace than she will at any other time.
(Even more scary as I seem to unlearning things at an alarming pace too)
We don't make it easy for our babas:
First we tell them that this yellow plastic thing is a duck
Then we expect them to know that this green-brown feathered thing is also a duck
And they do it.
Then we teach them colours:
That this is blue
But so is this.
It really is abso-bloomin-amazing.
Ps. Isobel has taken to sleeping with a plastic duck. I think it is because she can say it, I understand it and therefore she gets it, rather than any early fetish on her part.
Sunday, 20 September 2009
She has quite literally started deliberately performing slight of hand
tricks. Ok, so Derren Brown doesn't need to worry, yet.
Isobel takes her fork, shows it to you.
She carefully places it under her bum ( her high chair is her stage
for this trick).
She shows you that her hand is empty.
The audience enquires as to the whereabouts of said fork.
The fork is produced, waved and applause garnered.
Ok, so the magic circle aren't beating down our door, but....
if this is her at 18 months what tricksiness do I have to look forward
I'm sure it will be magic!
Sent from my iPhone
Friday, 18 September 2009
It was FAB!
Do I need to say more?
Ok, so I do.
Mostly I need to thank Grandma and Grandpa for allowing me three evenings in a row of being more than a mum, three evenings of it actually feeling odd to think that I was a mum. For three nights in a row it wasn't me who fed, bathed and night- nighted my little girl. This practically doubled the amount of times I haven't done that.
Saturday and Sunday we both festivaled and then the only tears shed when she was whisked of by Grandpa were mine!
here on You tube. Loved it.
I had great fun with my friend Sue, loved my bro's handmade fancy dress costume - yes that's what the ears were in aid of - a token gesture, caught up with old friends, and generally hung out in a field.
I'm already looking forward to next year! I just have to do a bit of begging to convince my mummy to have Isobel again for me.
Say yes mummy, say yes?!
Mind you, she may be potty trained by then, so what about the portaloos?!
It's indication of how much fun we both had that I'm looking forward to next year and Isobel has asked for mandma, mampa, islaa, ayley and jack every morning since we've been home.
Pretty please can we do it again?!
(This post could also have been festival Friday, great fields of fire
Hot from the flames and heated by the collective energy. Fab, fab, fab. Oh, I said that already.)
(Yes, I did go down the helter skelter and, no the fire brigade did not have to come to free my ample child baring hips.)