"Resistance is futile" said the chocolate digestive to the overweight lady as she handed around the biscuit tin to her children before bed. "Only two" said the lady to the children. As she left for the kitchen in search of the lid the biscuits again rattled "you cannot fight us; we are stronger than you; we are many and you are one".
"Oh why won't this bloody lid fit on the tin" shouted the frustrated woman. That's it! She would never silence them. As she carefully chose the most broken biscuit (because the children won't eat the broken ones), she told herself "fine, just to shut you up I will have just one".
As the chocolaty, crumbly scrumptiousness worked its way from side to side and smoothed her taste buds, the other bits of the broken biscuit started wailing for their missing piece and cried with insistence to join their friend. The kind hearted lady could not leave these pieces in, well, pieces, so did the right thing and ate the others.
Soon there was quiet sobbing from the tin "Our friends, our friends, oh please lady, please let us join them in the warmth of your tummy. We were made to please and satisfy you. Put your trust in us and we will not disappoint. If you eat all of us really quickly it is just the same as only eating one of us". With this, and the knowledge that, yes, resistance is definitely futile she lifted the lid on the tin once more.
And then the gentle calling of the cold milk from the fridge tinkled on her earlobes. As she took a large gulp of milk to accompany the 5th digestive in an already crowded mouth, she heard her children "can I have another biscuit mum?" Alas, she could not shout "NO, TWO IS PLENTY".
Exhausted, stuffed and feeling yuk, the lady slumped on the sofa and looked at her children. The only comfort she could gain was knowing that her gluttony was saving her children from a life time of obesity.
Wednesday 8 June 2011
Sunday 5 June 2011
Ten Top Tips to Surviving......
Swimming with the kids!
1. Never let them be more undressed than you. Even if this means going to the pool with them in their pants, trousers, t-shirts, jumpers, socks, shoes, rain coats, waterproof trousers, gloves, hats and scarves (even in summer) and you in just your swimsuit and flip flops.
2. Fight and stand your ground for the biggest cubicle! And if someone less encumbered than you beats you to it then go in the cubicle next to them. Keep saying very loudly to the children how inconsiderate other people are. Deliberately bang your knee and elbow on the dividing wall and scream with pain every few minutes. 'Accidently' kick an open dirt nappy under the cubicle and (sincerely) apologise!
3. Bring a buggy! I load everything on to the buggy and wheel it on to pool side as just HATE faffing about with lockers that are too small. And then once you have finally jammed the last shoe in you find the lock doesn't work or the wristband with the key on has broken.
4. Take a family trip to the loo and make them all go before entering the pool. I usually dehydrate them well for a few hours first too.
5. Whilst swimming try not to lose any of them. I have told my children that sharks live in the deep end and they really like bright orange armbands so best to stay in the shallow end.
6. Don't EVER turn you back on your child that is standing on the side. This can lead to him / her painfully jumping on your head or getting a foot stuck down the back of your swim suit.
7. Make sure you have a swim suit that goes up to the neck and is tight. My kids just love to expose me in the shallow end whilst claiming they are drowning.
8. When leaving the pool, tie them altogether to make sure you don't leave one behind or that one doesn't do a runner and throw themselves back in.
9. Never let them be more dressed than you (especially if they can walk). I sit them on the bench with their towels on, shivering, and make them wait until I am totally dressed. Cruel I know but I have learnt the hard way. Having dressed my kids first they then opened the door to expose my total nakedness, one leg on the bench drying myself, to not only the people in the changing room but to the life guard on poolside! Having not learnt my lesson the first time, I was in a similar scenario a few weeks later that had me grabbing for a towel to run naked to poolside to stop the 2 year old throwing herself in. Sadly the towel I grabbed was a small hand towel for my hair. It didn't quite do the job of covering me adequately.
10. Bribery - especially after-swimming sweets!! Use it, abuse it and get the best behaved kids!
Happy swimming. X
1. Never let them be more undressed than you. Even if this means going to the pool with them in their pants, trousers, t-shirts, jumpers, socks, shoes, rain coats, waterproof trousers, gloves, hats and scarves (even in summer) and you in just your swimsuit and flip flops.
2. Fight and stand your ground for the biggest cubicle! And if someone less encumbered than you beats you to it then go in the cubicle next to them. Keep saying very loudly to the children how inconsiderate other people are. Deliberately bang your knee and elbow on the dividing wall and scream with pain every few minutes. 'Accidently' kick an open dirt nappy under the cubicle and (sincerely) apologise!
3. Bring a buggy! I load everything on to the buggy and wheel it on to pool side as just HATE faffing about with lockers that are too small. And then once you have finally jammed the last shoe in you find the lock doesn't work or the wristband with the key on has broken.
4. Take a family trip to the loo and make them all go before entering the pool. I usually dehydrate them well for a few hours first too.
5. Whilst swimming try not to lose any of them. I have told my children that sharks live in the deep end and they really like bright orange armbands so best to stay in the shallow end.
6. Don't EVER turn you back on your child that is standing on the side. This can lead to him / her painfully jumping on your head or getting a foot stuck down the back of your swim suit.
7. Make sure you have a swim suit that goes up to the neck and is tight. My kids just love to expose me in the shallow end whilst claiming they are drowning.
8. When leaving the pool, tie them altogether to make sure you don't leave one behind or that one doesn't do a runner and throw themselves back in.
9. Never let them be more dressed than you (especially if they can walk). I sit them on the bench with their towels on, shivering, and make them wait until I am totally dressed. Cruel I know but I have learnt the hard way. Having dressed my kids first they then opened the door to expose my total nakedness, one leg on the bench drying myself, to not only the people in the changing room but to the life guard on poolside! Having not learnt my lesson the first time, I was in a similar scenario a few weeks later that had me grabbing for a towel to run naked to poolside to stop the 2 year old throwing herself in. Sadly the towel I grabbed was a small hand towel for my hair. It didn't quite do the job of covering me adequately.
10. Bribery - especially after-swimming sweets!! Use it, abuse it and get the best behaved kids!
Happy swimming. X
Sunday 29 May 2011
Today....
Today.... I am a numpty!
Today I spent 2 hours ripping the house apart looking for my wallet. I stripped the beds, empty the bin, drained the washing machine mid cycle, accused the kids, searched the kids, threatened the kids and then found it in the car carefully stowed under the driver's seat (where I had put it yesterday).
Today..... I am embarrassed!
I thought it would be a great idea to go to a boat jumble to get the kids some life jackets for our new adventures on the water and then take them to visit the sailing club I hope to join. Well, they kept climbing in the boats at the jumble, jumping on the life jackets and saying loudly that they thought it was all "rubbish". I can't even talk about what happened at the sailing club.... especially having lectured the kids in the car on the way about their conduct in public. Put it this way.... I am glad we didn't meet the membership secretary! I hate the feeling that my card is marked before we even arrive somewhere.
Today..... I am fat!
I joined weight watchers on line 2 weeks ago and so far have lost 7 lbs (great I know) but I am pretty sure that the lapses over the last 2 days will make up for that. I couldn't resist but buy Cadbury chocolate eclairs (large packet rather than tube) whilst I was in the garage paying for petrol. I didn't get them for me, you understand.... I got them to punish the children! Their earlier behaviour meant no treats so the ultimate punishment had to be flaunting it under their noses!
Today ..... I laughed
A little, not a lot and certainly not out loud. You see I was laughing at my eldest son and he hates being laughed at (well don't we all until we have had a bowel motion whilst pushing a baby out and then nothing is embarrassing any longer).
Twin 1..... "Mummy, where does Jam come from?"
Eldest son...." derrrr... Tesco, you ejit!"
It is only lunch time so I am waiting for the Today.... I cried, Today..... I loved, and the inevitable.... Today..... I wet myself trying to run after my 2 year old.
Today I spent 2 hours ripping the house apart looking for my wallet. I stripped the beds, empty the bin, drained the washing machine mid cycle, accused the kids, searched the kids, threatened the kids and then found it in the car carefully stowed under the driver's seat (where I had put it yesterday).
Today..... I am embarrassed!
I thought it would be a great idea to go to a boat jumble to get the kids some life jackets for our new adventures on the water and then take them to visit the sailing club I hope to join. Well, they kept climbing in the boats at the jumble, jumping on the life jackets and saying loudly that they thought it was all "rubbish". I can't even talk about what happened at the sailing club.... especially having lectured the kids in the car on the way about their conduct in public. Put it this way.... I am glad we didn't meet the membership secretary! I hate the feeling that my card is marked before we even arrive somewhere.
Today..... I am fat!
I joined weight watchers on line 2 weeks ago and so far have lost 7 lbs (great I know) but I am pretty sure that the lapses over the last 2 days will make up for that. I couldn't resist but buy Cadbury chocolate eclairs (large packet rather than tube) whilst I was in the garage paying for petrol. I didn't get them for me, you understand.... I got them to punish the children! Their earlier behaviour meant no treats so the ultimate punishment had to be flaunting it under their noses!
Today ..... I laughed
A little, not a lot and certainly not out loud. You see I was laughing at my eldest son and he hates being laughed at (well don't we all until we have had a bowel motion whilst pushing a baby out and then nothing is embarrassing any longer).
Twin 1..... "Mummy, where does Jam come from?"
Eldest son...." derrrr... Tesco, you ejit!"
It is only lunch time so I am waiting for the Today.... I cried, Today..... I loved, and the inevitable.... Today..... I wet myself trying to run after my 2 year old.
Sunday 22 May 2011
And The Results Are In
Well it has been a dual that has lasted over 4 days and spanned many borders. Many battles have been fought and trials completed; strengths and skills have been pushed to their maximum and records have been broken. So after a thrilling match for the viewer, I can now declare the winner to be Team Children.
Team Mum was an awesome opponent and only narrowly missed out on winning the title of 'Cleanest House Has Ever Been'. She put up a strong fight against the poster paint finger prints on the windows and walls by fiercely scrubbing but behind her Team Children were there with their chocolate covered hands to quickly undo her work.
She bravely and exhaustingly steam cleaned the cream sitting room carpet but the youngest member of Team Children had this one in the bag by discreetly undoing her nappy and defecating on a cleaned area.
Donned in full protective clothing she headed to the downstairs loo; toilet brush in one hand, bleach in the other and a text message sent to her husband saying "if I'm not out in 20 minutes call an ambulance". Team Mum achieved full marks for this task but it was not meant to be. The toilet duck didn't even have time to grip to the rim before Team Children were peeing carelessly up the walls and over the seat.
With inspiring tactics Team Mum cunningly cleaned the kitchen floor from hall way to back door and ensured her freshly made coffee and perfectly rolled cigarette were awaiting her for a 5 minute sit down before the battle continued. As she took her first sip from the warm cup she heard them screeching "MUMMY, WHERE ARE YOU?"
Sadly the last we heard from Team Mum was "GET OUT OF THE KITCHEN I'VE JUST MOPPED THE FLOOR", followed by some quiet sobbing.
We wish Team Mum all the best for her recovery and send many congratulations to Team Children..... May YOUR children be just as mischievous!
Team Mum was an awesome opponent and only narrowly missed out on winning the title of 'Cleanest House Has Ever Been'. She put up a strong fight against the poster paint finger prints on the windows and walls by fiercely scrubbing but behind her Team Children were there with their chocolate covered hands to quickly undo her work.
She bravely and exhaustingly steam cleaned the cream sitting room carpet but the youngest member of Team Children had this one in the bag by discreetly undoing her nappy and defecating on a cleaned area.
Donned in full protective clothing she headed to the downstairs loo; toilet brush in one hand, bleach in the other and a text message sent to her husband saying "if I'm not out in 20 minutes call an ambulance". Team Mum achieved full marks for this task but it was not meant to be. The toilet duck didn't even have time to grip to the rim before Team Children were peeing carelessly up the walls and over the seat.
With inspiring tactics Team Mum cunningly cleaned the kitchen floor from hall way to back door and ensured her freshly made coffee and perfectly rolled cigarette were awaiting her for a 5 minute sit down before the battle continued. As she took her first sip from the warm cup she heard them screeching "MUMMY, WHERE ARE YOU?"
Sadly the last we heard from Team Mum was "GET OUT OF THE KITCHEN I'VE JUST MOPPED THE FLOOR", followed by some quiet sobbing.
We wish Team Mum all the best for her recovery and send many congratulations to Team Children..... May YOUR children be just as mischievous!
Friday 20 May 2011
Dear Blog
Dear Blog
It has been far too long. There is a reason for this.... I have been slightly brain frazzled. I have had the most incredible couple of weeks though.
I guess there is the pressure to report interesting / funny incidents in my day (which do happen daily) but sometimes I doubt our followers will keep following if it is all about the trials and tribulations of parenting and trying to hold it all together. Sorry, dear Blog, but this post is not humorous.
But something has happened this week that I need to tell you about. Let me start by telling you that it is my belief that people are put in our paths (for however short a journey with us) for a reason. Maybe we need them or they need us. Maybe we can learn from them or them from us. Either way, their presence is vital.
We make very good friends with people, but as life changes we only take a few people from our past into the present. I met one of these people a few months ago and again this week. She told me she has cancer.
For the last 3 days I have not been able to shake her from my mind. Partly due to the news but mostly due to her attitude. I have never met anyone with her resolve, strength, positivity and acceptance. She is truly remarkable. She has made me really take note of my own mortality and the mortality of my children. She has made me think much more about my parenting skills and priorities than anything else in my life.
Because of this, our house is calmer, more loving and more patient. Well I am trying to be even if the children aren't!
I am sorry this is a 'serious' 'unhumorous' post but it has been so important for me to write it.
Thank you, my friend, you are truly an amazing inspiration and thank you Blog for being here for me to type this.
Lots of love XXXXX
It has been far too long. There is a reason for this.... I have been slightly brain frazzled. I have had the most incredible couple of weeks though.
I guess there is the pressure to report interesting / funny incidents in my day (which do happen daily) but sometimes I doubt our followers will keep following if it is all about the trials and tribulations of parenting and trying to hold it all together. Sorry, dear Blog, but this post is not humorous.
But something has happened this week that I need to tell you about. Let me start by telling you that it is my belief that people are put in our paths (for however short a journey with us) for a reason. Maybe we need them or they need us. Maybe we can learn from them or them from us. Either way, their presence is vital.
We make very good friends with people, but as life changes we only take a few people from our past into the present. I met one of these people a few months ago and again this week. She told me she has cancer.
For the last 3 days I have not been able to shake her from my mind. Partly due to the news but mostly due to her attitude. I have never met anyone with her resolve, strength, positivity and acceptance. She is truly remarkable. She has made me really take note of my own mortality and the mortality of my children. She has made me think much more about my parenting skills and priorities than anything else in my life.
Because of this, our house is calmer, more loving and more patient. Well I am trying to be even if the children aren't!
I am sorry this is a 'serious' 'unhumorous' post but it has been so important for me to write it.
Thank you, my friend, you are truly an amazing inspiration and thank you Blog for being here for me to type this.
Lots of love XXXXX
Monday 9 May 2011
Baby brain or early dementia?
OMG.... I have just had 'one of THOSE moments'. As I sit here typing, I cannot believe quite how stupid I have been.
For many years now I have been able to claim 'baby brain' for my daft moments - like finding shoes in the fridge, post in the freezer and packing my eldest son off to school with no pants on. But there comes a time in your parenting life that you have to face facts. Is it really baby brain or early dementia? Today's little incident has really got me thinking.
Having moved 4 months ago we now have the luxury of a downstairs toilet. We also never use our front door as our 'back' door is situated a metre from the front door and only requires one key. Over the weekend my husband fitted a bolt to the garden gate which gives me the peace of mind of being able to leave the door open and not worry about the neighbours reporting a stray toddler on the road.
Today, being lazy I decided not to go upstairs but used the downstairs loo. As I sat there with my pants around my ankles I heard a knock on the back door and someone calling "hello?" Without thinking I responded with "Hello, come in"!!!!! Before my slow brain had the chance to realise my fatally embarrassing mistake and react, THE POSTMAN was standing just a few metres away from me!
Gracefully he said "package for you, don't worry, it doesn't need a signature" and he retreated quickly leaving the goods on the kitchen counter.
How will I ever face him again? In fact, I have decided not too.... I plan to be out every morning until Christmas when I can give him a stuffed envelope to hopefully erase his memory.
For many years now I have been able to claim 'baby brain' for my daft moments - like finding shoes in the fridge, post in the freezer and packing my eldest son off to school with no pants on. But there comes a time in your parenting life that you have to face facts. Is it really baby brain or early dementia? Today's little incident has really got me thinking.
Having moved 4 months ago we now have the luxury of a downstairs toilet. We also never use our front door as our 'back' door is situated a metre from the front door and only requires one key. Over the weekend my husband fitted a bolt to the garden gate which gives me the peace of mind of being able to leave the door open and not worry about the neighbours reporting a stray toddler on the road.
Today, being lazy I decided not to go upstairs but used the downstairs loo. As I sat there with my pants around my ankles I heard a knock on the back door and someone calling "hello?" Without thinking I responded with "Hello, come in"!!!!! Before my slow brain had the chance to realise my fatally embarrassing mistake and react, THE POSTMAN was standing just a few metres away from me!
Gracefully he said "package for you, don't worry, it doesn't need a signature" and he retreated quickly leaving the goods on the kitchen counter.
How will I ever face him again? In fact, I have decided not too.... I plan to be out every morning until Christmas when I can give him a stuffed envelope to hopefully erase his memory.
Saturday 7 May 2011
Could the search be over?
I seem to be forever looking for my next mode of transport that will make the school runs easier.
Having invested in a bike, a baby seat on the back and a trailer for two, I am still not satisfied. I do get some funny looks from passers by though.
The school runs usually go like this.......
Get everyone up, fed, dressed, pack lunches done, search for half an hour for a missing shoe which is then found in a bush soaking wet from the rain, faces cleaned and a final fight between hair brush and hair (the brush usually wins). This is followed by them all running out of the gate leaving me to struggle with a total of 6 school bags, 2 drinks bottles, 3 sun hats, a hand bag and the toddler's dolly, whilst I lock the door always shouting.... "mind the cars". I then have a battle to get the toddler into her car seat. With back arching, legs thrashing and claws exposed she eventually has to give into my demands when my knee gently applies pressure and forces her to bend in the middle. As I retreat backwards out of the 'van' I look like I have done 10 rounds with Mike Tyson and urgently need to run back inside to find the deodorant.
So all clipped in we make the half mile trip down the road to school number one to deliver son number one. There seems to be an unspoken competition to see who can get the parking spaces closest to the school. Even arriving at 7.30am we have to park miles away and walk another half mile to the gates. This is where the school run really does turn into a run. Whilst 3 run ahead, one usually hangs back. In fact the other day I had to walk back to the car as I was convinced I had left one of them locked in, only to find him at the pelican crossing by the school. As I have mentioned in previous blogs, I live in a posh area. I would love nothing better than to shout... "IF YOU RUN AHEAD ONE MORE TIME I WILL BE FORCED TO BAN YOU FROM THE Wii FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE AND LEAVE YOU TIED TO THE LAMP POST LIKE A DOG TOMORROW". However, I find myself saying "Darlings, not too far now, you might get an ouch from a nasty car"..... which, let's be honest, does not have the same effect. Once at the school I cannot sigh with relief as I know I have the walk back to the car still to come. We then have a 5 minute drive to school number 2 which does not open till 9.15 so we have to wait in the car for 15 minutes, just to deliver sons number 2 and 3.
And then we have to do it all over again in the afternoon to collect son number one from school number one
Next September the 3 boys will all be at the same school. I am trying to get in touch with my eco side (well the side the bank manager is on anyway) and cut down the use of the car. Well, petrol prices are ridiculous at the moment. So I am wondering about getting this..... I can strap all 4 in the box!
What do you think? Am I mad? Is there another option?
The school runs usually go like this.......
Get everyone up, fed, dressed, pack lunches done, search for half an hour for a missing shoe which is then found in a bush soaking wet from the rain, faces cleaned and a final fight between hair brush and hair (the brush usually wins). This is followed by them all running out of the gate leaving me to struggle with a total of 6 school bags, 2 drinks bottles, 3 sun hats, a hand bag and the toddler's dolly, whilst I lock the door always shouting.... "mind the cars". I then have a battle to get the toddler into her car seat. With back arching, legs thrashing and claws exposed she eventually has to give into my demands when my knee gently applies pressure and forces her to bend in the middle. As I retreat backwards out of the 'van' I look like I have done 10 rounds with Mike Tyson and urgently need to run back inside to find the deodorant.
So all clipped in we make the half mile trip down the road to school number one to deliver son number one. There seems to be an unspoken competition to see who can get the parking spaces closest to the school. Even arriving at 7.30am we have to park miles away and walk another half mile to the gates. This is where the school run really does turn into a run. Whilst 3 run ahead, one usually hangs back. In fact the other day I had to walk back to the car as I was convinced I had left one of them locked in, only to find him at the pelican crossing by the school. As I have mentioned in previous blogs, I live in a posh area. I would love nothing better than to shout... "IF YOU RUN AHEAD ONE MORE TIME I WILL BE FORCED TO BAN YOU FROM THE Wii FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE AND LEAVE YOU TIED TO THE LAMP POST LIKE A DOG TOMORROW". However, I find myself saying "Darlings, not too far now, you might get an ouch from a nasty car"..... which, let's be honest, does not have the same effect. Once at the school I cannot sigh with relief as I know I have the walk back to the car still to come. We then have a 5 minute drive to school number 2 which does not open till 9.15 so we have to wait in the car for 15 minutes, just to deliver sons number 2 and 3.
And then we have to do it all over again in the afternoon to collect son number one from school number one
Next September the 3 boys will all be at the same school. I am trying to get in touch with my eco side (well the side the bank manager is on anyway) and cut down the use of the car. Well, petrol prices are ridiculous at the moment. So I am wondering about getting this..... I can strap all 4 in the box!
What do you think? Am I mad? Is there another option?
Tuesday 3 May 2011
Threesome anyone?
A couple of nights ago I was flicking through the multiple junk channels provided to us for an extortionate price and noticed a program called 3 in a bed. Thinking it would be all about sharing your bed with your baby and how it helps bonding, building trust, confidence and security for your little angel, I highlighted it and pressed select. OMG (or am I too old and uncool to use this abbreviation?) It was NOT about co-sleeping! It was all about how marriages have been saved by threesomes. I had one immediate thought...... I bet they don't have children! If they did they would be too knackered for sex with each other let alone a third person.
And let's be honest.... when you have children there is never really a good time to have marital relations is there! My children seem to have a sixth sense about this subject. It doesn't matter whether it is 10pm or 4am, my children KNOW and they bloody wake up. It starts with a little murmur which makes us pause, listen, carry on but we all know how it is going to end; a little cry, pause, listen, carry on; A burst-in-to-tears, hysterical 2 year old, pause, shrug of shoulders, get on clothes, leave the bedroom to go to the child.
I'm all for trying new positions but when you have to be conscious that one of you has a good view of the door 'just in case', it kind of puts a tinge on things. And there is no such thing as being spontaneous any longer. It has to be more planned..... Am I too tired? When did I last shower? Are they all asleep? Will they all stay asleep? Does the baby have her dummy in? .......... I could go on and on.
And it goes further than trying to 'plan' a spur of the moment togetherness. The pre-planning of the plan is never easy. Maybe a family shopping trip to Tesco is not the ideal time to be purchasing the KY! "Mummy, is that my new toothpaste?" - shouted loudly at the checkout whilst I am trying to avoid eye contact with the cashier.
I take sex very seriously. Especially now that I have realised, 4 children later, that pregnancy is not a gift from God!
I have already started to pre-plan the plan for his birthday in November and our wedding anniversary next year!
And let's be honest.... when you have children there is never really a good time to have marital relations is there! My children seem to have a sixth sense about this subject. It doesn't matter whether it is 10pm or 4am, my children KNOW and they bloody wake up. It starts with a little murmur which makes us pause, listen, carry on but we all know how it is going to end; a little cry, pause, listen, carry on; A burst-in-to-tears, hysterical 2 year old, pause, shrug of shoulders, get on clothes, leave the bedroom to go to the child.
I'm all for trying new positions but when you have to be conscious that one of you has a good view of the door 'just in case', it kind of puts a tinge on things. And there is no such thing as being spontaneous any longer. It has to be more planned..... Am I too tired? When did I last shower? Are they all asleep? Will they all stay asleep? Does the baby have her dummy in? .......... I could go on and on.
And it goes further than trying to 'plan' a spur of the moment togetherness. The pre-planning of the plan is never easy. Maybe a family shopping trip to Tesco is not the ideal time to be purchasing the KY! "Mummy, is that my new toothpaste?" - shouted loudly at the checkout whilst I am trying to avoid eye contact with the cashier.
I take sex very seriously. Especially now that I have realised, 4 children later, that pregnancy is not a gift from God!
I have already started to pre-plan the plan for his birthday in November and our wedding anniversary next year!
Sunday 1 May 2011
The Disastrous Dieter
Having checked that we are on a waning moon (rather than a waxing moon as apparently you are more likely to stick to a diet if you start it when the moon is getting thinner too) I pledged today would be the day that the diet (or should I say, healthy eating) would start.
I had sat myself down and lectured myself on the importance of realising this was a life changing event and that it was not something that should be started lightly or without commitment. I vowed after hearing the power of my self-preaching that I would never abuse my body with food again. I resolved that I could and would do this and that by eating junk I was not treating myself but punishing myself.
It felt good. I felt uplifted and ready to go into battle with the flabby bits. I visualised a medieval duel of skinny me with a huge sword charging at the blobs of fat and cutting them into tiny pieces before they dssappeared into the ground. I pictured me sunbathing in a bikini this summer and turning up at my sister's wedding in October in the most slinkiest, sexiest number that just about covered the stretch marks.
Wow, I have power; I have motivation; I have strength;
I have no will power; I have failed on day one, I am weak; I can resist anything but temptation! The large bag of peanut M&Ms in the cupboard was just too tempting. And seriously now, what is the point in eating Ryvita for lunch and a salad for dinner when you have binged on chocolate, biscuits and cheese?
So I have decided to eat my way through the junk food and start again after the next full moon (reckon that gives me a couple of weeks).
I had sat myself down and lectured myself on the importance of realising this was a life changing event and that it was not something that should be started lightly or without commitment. I vowed after hearing the power of my self-preaching that I would never abuse my body with food again. I resolved that I could and would do this and that by eating junk I was not treating myself but punishing myself.
It felt good. I felt uplifted and ready to go into battle with the flabby bits. I visualised a medieval duel of skinny me with a huge sword charging at the blobs of fat and cutting them into tiny pieces before they dssappeared into the ground. I pictured me sunbathing in a bikini this summer and turning up at my sister's wedding in October in the most slinkiest, sexiest number that just about covered the stretch marks.
Wow, I have power; I have motivation; I have strength;
I have no will power; I have failed on day one, I am weak; I can resist anything but temptation! The large bag of peanut M&Ms in the cupboard was just too tempting. And seriously now, what is the point in eating Ryvita for lunch and a salad for dinner when you have binged on chocolate, biscuits and cheese?
So I have decided to eat my way through the junk food and start again after the next full moon (reckon that gives me a couple of weeks).
Saturday 30 April 2011
Dear Landlord
Dear Landlord
May I start by thanking you for allowing us to live in your magnificent house, especially when so many other landlords had said absolutely not to 4 young kids. And thank you for having such an efficient smoke alarm, as we discovered in January when my middle son nearly burnt the house down.
I am most impressed at your laid back attitude to us having to break the bathroom door down to release my trapped youngest son just 3 days into our tenancy agreement; and the glass chandelier that fell from the dining room ceiling when batted with a hurling stick by my eldest son.
I would just like you to know that the brown stains on the soap dispenser and in the grout of the tiles in the downstairs loo are not poo stains. They are from chocolaty hands at Easter. And I promise to try and remember to buy some cillit bang next week.
Please do not worry about the split water pipe in the back garden that leads to the tap. I have put loads of duct tape around it and a jubilee clip, just in case!
I have fixed the ice dispenser in your expensive American style fridge freezer after one of the twins "did something to it" and steam cleaned the strawberry stain that was artistically and lovingly created by my daughter on the cream carpet in the sitting room.
I am not entirely sure which child pulled the sealant out from around the window frame in the end bedroom or broke the drain pipe outside. I have quite a good idea which one blocked the drain at the side of the house and didn't tell me for 5 weeks. I do, however, have to admit that it was totally my fault and purely by accident that I washed a disposable nappy in your washing machine.
I would also just like to reassure you that I am not stalking you or your wife. It is purely by chance that when I am doing something, like weeding the pavement, which could gain me 'The Most Conscientious Tenant' award, that you drive past.
Although I cannot promise that my children will always be fully clothed (or even partially clothed) in the garden when you or the neighbours walk past, or that I won't let out a roar at them that will disturb this lovely, quiet neighbourhood; I will pay the rent on time and replace anything we break. We look forward to renewing our tenancy agreement in 8 months time.
Yours sincerely
May I start by thanking you for allowing us to live in your magnificent house, especially when so many other landlords had said absolutely not to 4 young kids. And thank you for having such an efficient smoke alarm, as we discovered in January when my middle son nearly burnt the house down.
I am most impressed at your laid back attitude to us having to break the bathroom door down to release my trapped youngest son just 3 days into our tenancy agreement; and the glass chandelier that fell from the dining room ceiling when batted with a hurling stick by my eldest son.
I would just like you to know that the brown stains on the soap dispenser and in the grout of the tiles in the downstairs loo are not poo stains. They are from chocolaty hands at Easter. And I promise to try and remember to buy some cillit bang next week.
Please do not worry about the split water pipe in the back garden that leads to the tap. I have put loads of duct tape around it and a jubilee clip, just in case!
I have fixed the ice dispenser in your expensive American style fridge freezer after one of the twins "did something to it" and steam cleaned the strawberry stain that was artistically and lovingly created by my daughter on the cream carpet in the sitting room.
I am not entirely sure which child pulled the sealant out from around the window frame in the end bedroom or broke the drain pipe outside. I have quite a good idea which one blocked the drain at the side of the house and didn't tell me for 5 weeks. I do, however, have to admit that it was totally my fault and purely by accident that I washed a disposable nappy in your washing machine.
I would also just like to reassure you that I am not stalking you or your wife. It is purely by chance that when I am doing something, like weeding the pavement, which could gain me 'The Most Conscientious Tenant' award, that you drive past.
Although I cannot promise that my children will always be fully clothed (or even partially clothed) in the garden when you or the neighbours walk past, or that I won't let out a roar at them that will disturb this lovely, quiet neighbourhood; I will pay the rent on time and replace anything we break. We look forward to renewing our tenancy agreement in 8 months time.
Yours sincerely
Uh oh... here come the Chav Family (if your English) or the Knacker Famiy (if your Irish)!
Welcome back, long time no write! Well it has been Easter hols and we have had Irish visitors so I have had a busy time. But it really has been a great time. We went out every day to somewhere exciting but with 2 adults and 6 kids in tow, we did get some looks.
I tend to have a bit of a rule for myself with my kids which is - Choose your battles wisely. Based on this rule I hope that it means I won't constantly be at them (and they get a bit of freedom to be kids). However, they are young and adventurous (or should I say mischievous!). I let them run ahead, climb on things, be loud in open spaces and have been confident that is acceptable.
BUT, this Easter has made me realise something...... when you live in an area that is so posh there isn't and Aldi for 20 miles, behaviour like theirs does not go down so well! No longer can I stand on a pavement like in Ireland and screech at my kids for running too far ahead; Now, with a slightly raised voice, I have to say "Darlings, that's far enough, come back to Mummy now" in my best Queen's English voice!
I have suddenly become aware that maybe to other people it looks like my kids are out of control and I don't care. Then, if I do have to shout I just sound like a right knacker!! Also, maybe I am bias, but I don't think my children are badly behaved; I just think there are a lot of them of a similar age. If, as many passers-by think, I was a child minder, I would probably get reported.
And what does "Oh you have your hands full" really mean? I am not coping? I am not in control? or maybe "God I wouldn't swap places with you for any amount of money"!
So is there a solution? I'm not sure yet. I am toying with the idea of hanging a sign around my neck that simply says "if you could do better, you are welcome to try!"
I tend to have a bit of a rule for myself with my kids which is - Choose your battles wisely. Based on this rule I hope that it means I won't constantly be at them (and they get a bit of freedom to be kids). However, they are young and adventurous (or should I say mischievous!). I let them run ahead, climb on things, be loud in open spaces and have been confident that is acceptable.
BUT, this Easter has made me realise something...... when you live in an area that is so posh there isn't and Aldi for 20 miles, behaviour like theirs does not go down so well! No longer can I stand on a pavement like in Ireland and screech at my kids for running too far ahead; Now, with a slightly raised voice, I have to say "Darlings, that's far enough, come back to Mummy now" in my best Queen's English voice!
I have suddenly become aware that maybe to other people it looks like my kids are out of control and I don't care. Then, if I do have to shout I just sound like a right knacker!! Also, maybe I am bias, but I don't think my children are badly behaved; I just think there are a lot of them of a similar age. If, as many passers-by think, I was a child minder, I would probably get reported.
And what does "Oh you have your hands full" really mean? I am not coping? I am not in control? or maybe "God I wouldn't swap places with you for any amount of money"!
So is there a solution? I'm not sure yet. I am toying with the idea of hanging a sign around my neck that simply says "if you could do better, you are welcome to try!"
Thursday 14 April 2011
Dear Husband
Dear Husband
May I start this letter by simply saying "I love you".
When you are working away I miss you. In fact I miss you so much that I could not help but wear your new, only worn 3 times (once by you and twice by me) grey hoodie just to feel close to you; to smell you; to feel you are near me.
I think that your daughter felt the same as when I put on your nearly new hoodie this morning she kept saying "dadda dadda". Normally, if you were home I would be shhushing her quiet in hope that you would not notice I was wearing one of your jumpers. But today I said "Yes honey, it's Daddy's jumper" and carried on my day.
And I am truly convinced that she also wanted to feel close to you when she threw her arms around me and left spaghetti bolognese hand prints on the sleeves and back of your hoodie. I am also convinced that when she rubbed her gorgeous but somewhat orange face into the front of your now not so new looking hoodie, she just wanted to smell you.
Anyway, I hope work is going well.
Lots of love
XXXXX
May I start this letter by simply saying "I love you".
When you are working away I miss you. In fact I miss you so much that I could not help but wear your new, only worn 3 times (once by you and twice by me) grey hoodie just to feel close to you; to smell you; to feel you are near me.
I think that your daughter felt the same as when I put on your nearly new hoodie this morning she kept saying "dadda dadda". Normally, if you were home I would be shhushing her quiet in hope that you would not notice I was wearing one of your jumpers. But today I said "Yes honey, it's Daddy's jumper" and carried on my day.
And I am truly convinced that she also wanted to feel close to you when she threw her arms around me and left spaghetti bolognese hand prints on the sleeves and back of your hoodie. I am also convinced that when she rubbed her gorgeous but somewhat orange face into the front of your now not so new looking hoodie, she just wanted to smell you.
Anyway, I hope work is going well.
Lots of love
XXXXX
Wednesday 13 April 2011
Addict or Opportunist?
Ok, it is time to come clean and be honest with myself. I am a TOTAL addict. I would vaguely class myself as addicted (but more of an opportunist) to some things in my life, like the odd cigarette, but I would literally do ANYTHING for a jam donut.
I have recently found myself going to extreme measures to have one (or maybe 2 or 3). These measures have included trampling small children to get to the last bag on the shelf and even, I'm sad to admit, eating a stale one. Last night I found myself counting the remaining donuts in the bag - 3; only 3 of my 4 children eat donuts but then where is mine? So I hid them!! How awful is that?
And to top that, if I'm trying to be good, I will eat into the donut until I get to the jam, eat the jam and then leave a tiny bit of jamless donut remaining. Who am I kidding?
Note to self....... JUST DON'T BUY THEM!
I have recently found myself going to extreme measures to have one (or maybe 2 or 3). These measures have included trampling small children to get to the last bag on the shelf and even, I'm sad to admit, eating a stale one. Last night I found myself counting the remaining donuts in the bag - 3; only 3 of my 4 children eat donuts but then where is mine? So I hid them!! How awful is that?
And to top that, if I'm trying to be good, I will eat into the donut until I get to the jam, eat the jam and then leave a tiny bit of jamless donut remaining. Who am I kidding?
Note to self....... JUST DON'T BUY THEM!
Monday 11 April 2011
It's all a load of c**p
To what lengths will I go to lose the flab for summer? Well to give you an idea, if you have read my previous posts, I go to the gym (occasionally but not often enough to get trim), own an exercise hula hoop (used and failed at once) and now I have to shamefully admit to being scammed online!
It's bloody ridiculous! I fell for a wonder product advertised as a free trial and just £2.49 p+p only to get a call from my wonderful bank(thank goodness) telling me they had not authorised payment..... payment of TWO amounts of £127.59!! When I got the call two things happened in my head.
1. Why hadn't payment been authorised? Was I over drawn? Shit! I couldn't have spent that much recently, surely?
2. The man on the phone was foreign, the line was bad and he knew an awful lot about my spending habits (thank goodness I had decided against buying those sex toys!). I am very embarrassed to admit that it crossed my mind that I hadn't actually been scammed but I was about to be!
No, payment wasn't authorised due to lack of funds but due to 'suspicion' on the banks part (again, thank goodness) and as soon as I got off the phone to 'the bank' I rang them back to check the call was above board.
This has led to me having to cancel my card and await a new one in the post.
So, exhausted from the last 2 hours of ringing the fat loss pill company and the bank several times and all in the aid of the perfect body, all I want now is a big, fat triple gin and loads of chocolate.
Maybe the universe is trying to tell me something!
It's bloody ridiculous! I fell for a wonder product advertised as a free trial and just £2.49 p+p only to get a call from my wonderful bank(thank goodness) telling me they had not authorised payment..... payment of TWO amounts of £127.59!! When I got the call two things happened in my head.
1. Why hadn't payment been authorised? Was I over drawn? Shit! I couldn't have spent that much recently, surely?
2. The man on the phone was foreign, the line was bad and he knew an awful lot about my spending habits (thank goodness I had decided against buying those sex toys!). I am very embarrassed to admit that it crossed my mind that I hadn't actually been scammed but I was about to be!
No, payment wasn't authorised due to lack of funds but due to 'suspicion' on the banks part (again, thank goodness) and as soon as I got off the phone to 'the bank' I rang them back to check the call was above board.
This has led to me having to cancel my card and await a new one in the post.
So, exhausted from the last 2 hours of ringing the fat loss pill company and the bank several times and all in the aid of the perfect body, all I want now is a big, fat triple gin and loads of chocolate.
Maybe the universe is trying to tell me something!
The She Devil Hour
Today is going to be one of those days..... you know the ones; you had a really bad night's sleep; the kids have all woken early and are moaning and arguing already and every time they open their mouths it is to demand I get off my bum and get them something.
I have heard about 'the witching hour' for children; in fact I was interviewed by a national paper about how to deal with that time of the day when the kids are all cranky. But I am yet to find advice on how to handle a mummy's witching hour.
At 7am I am already preparing myself for that time this evening when, in a blink I go from caring, loving mummy to a towering 10ft, clothes ripping over my bulging muscles, foaming at the mouth SHE DEVIL.
It is like someone has flicked a switch and nothing can talk me out of it. I stomp around the house throwing things into the sink / laundry basket counting the minutes till bed time. I do more than I usually would at this time of night, just to make a point of how busy / tired / at the end of my tether I am. Of course, I am trying to make a point which totally washes of the heads of my children. I would throw myself on the floor and flail my hands and legs around if I thought I could get up again without assistance.
And then I hear them talking to each other in my She Devil language. They throw things like "I'm not listening to you in that whingey voice" and "When I say NOW, I mean NOW" at each other. Bearing in mind that not one of them is over the age of 6, it is obvious where they are getting from.
So what can I do to survive and tame the beast that is brewing inside? I think I will prep the dinner early, have the pyjamas on them by 6pm and set sky to record their favourite programs.
Today is going to be a long, long day where the thought of going out is exhausting but the thought of staying in with bored kids is .... well.... more exhausting (and could raise the devil earlier than expected). So whilst I prepare my antichrist make up and sew up my clothes from last night, I make a mental note to go and buy some rescue remedy, a couple of mini bottles of gin and lots of chocolate!
I have heard about 'the witching hour' for children; in fact I was interviewed by a national paper about how to deal with that time of the day when the kids are all cranky. But I am yet to find advice on how to handle a mummy's witching hour.
At 7am I am already preparing myself for that time this evening when, in a blink I go from caring, loving mummy to a towering 10ft, clothes ripping over my bulging muscles, foaming at the mouth SHE DEVIL.
It is like someone has flicked a switch and nothing can talk me out of it. I stomp around the house throwing things into the sink / laundry basket counting the minutes till bed time. I do more than I usually would at this time of night, just to make a point of how busy / tired / at the end of my tether I am. Of course, I am trying to make a point which totally washes of the heads of my children. I would throw myself on the floor and flail my hands and legs around if I thought I could get up again without assistance.
And then I hear them talking to each other in my She Devil language. They throw things like "I'm not listening to you in that whingey voice" and "When I say NOW, I mean NOW" at each other. Bearing in mind that not one of them is over the age of 6, it is obvious where they are getting from.
So what can I do to survive and tame the beast that is brewing inside? I think I will prep the dinner early, have the pyjamas on them by 6pm and set sky to record their favourite programs.
Today is going to be a long, long day where the thought of going out is exhausting but the thought of staying in with bored kids is .... well.... more exhausting (and could raise the devil earlier than expected). So whilst I prepare my antichrist make up and sew up my clothes from last night, I make a mental note to go and buy some rescue remedy, a couple of mini bottles of gin and lots of chocolate!
Friday 8 April 2011
A Wee Letter For You. X
Dear Future Wife / Partner of my Boys
I want to send you my sincerest apologies for the apparent lack of training your husbands / partners have. It has been with best intentions and perseverance that I have tried to teach them to put down the toilet seat when finished, wash their hands and turn the bathroom light off. I have reiterated time and time again about toilet etiquette but I fear, at this stage, they will be flying the coop with only the basics in toilet manners (in that they will use the toilet instead of a bush outside).
I also need to give you a serious warning and a bit of advice. I have tried every method found on the internet and a few homemade solutions to try and get them to aim into the bowl but without success. At some point during the relieving themselves process, they have been known to miss to bowl quite spectacularly. I have tried using ping pong balls in the bowl to aim at; I have tried reward based training; I have resorted to punishment training (no sweets for a week type thing) but it is still literally hit and miss with them. So my advice for when you are designing your bathroom in your first house, or looking at your first rental property, is make sure behind the toilet is tiled from floor to ceiling and sealed with the best sealant money can buy.
I want to further wish you luck and thank you for 'relieving' me of all house training responsibility.
With lots of love
Your most grateful
Mother in Law
I want to send you my sincerest apologies for the apparent lack of training your husbands / partners have. It has been with best intentions and perseverance that I have tried to teach them to put down the toilet seat when finished, wash their hands and turn the bathroom light off. I have reiterated time and time again about toilet etiquette but I fear, at this stage, they will be flying the coop with only the basics in toilet manners (in that they will use the toilet instead of a bush outside).
I also need to give you a serious warning and a bit of advice. I have tried every method found on the internet and a few homemade solutions to try and get them to aim into the bowl but without success. At some point during the relieving themselves process, they have been known to miss to bowl quite spectacularly. I have tried using ping pong balls in the bowl to aim at; I have tried reward based training; I have resorted to punishment training (no sweets for a week type thing) but it is still literally hit and miss with them. So my advice for when you are designing your bathroom in your first house, or looking at your first rental property, is make sure behind the toilet is tiled from floor to ceiling and sealed with the best sealant money can buy.
I want to further wish you luck and thank you for 'relieving' me of all house training responsibility.
With lots of love
Your most grateful
Mother in Law
Thursday 7 April 2011
Say it like it is why don't you!
I have just been given a hula hoop! Not your average hula hoop but one with no less than 48 'soft massage balls' on the inside which 'press on the abdominal, back, hip and buttock muscles'. This is obviously supposed to be an exercise tool with added massage bonus. I have just had a go (if you can call it that).
Expecting to be transported from fat to thin and toned in a few easy hulas with the light touch of a persnaully trained masseuse, I was sorely (literally) disappointed! The massage balls bloody hurt and I think I achieved one and half rotations before it fell to the floor scraping the skin from my ankles. I was also surprised it didn't get caught on my huge behind and just hang there like it had found its forever home. I don't like to fail so thinking of my options, I might try to tuck the hoop in between my two spare tyres and give it another try.
But what I do like about this hoop is the packaging! it reads -
"Hoop also consumed more calories than conventional hoops. (fat people : 4.62kca per minute)"
Immediately I wondered if they had met me as it is safe to say they have not beaten about the bush in their description of the user! However it also depicts a slender, big busted cartoon character donning a sweat band on her forehead, spinning the hoop with weights in her hand. Maybe one day, but for now I am going to work on finding a way to rig it up to the light fitting so it stays up whilst I shake my bits at it. Wonder if this is going to be a night time activity for when no one is around and the curtains are closed?
Expecting to be transported from fat to thin and toned in a few easy hulas with the light touch of a persnaully trained masseuse, I was sorely (literally) disappointed! The massage balls bloody hurt and I think I achieved one and half rotations before it fell to the floor scraping the skin from my ankles. I was also surprised it didn't get caught on my huge behind and just hang there like it had found its forever home. I don't like to fail so thinking of my options, I might try to tuck the hoop in between my two spare tyres and give it another try.
But what I do like about this hoop is the packaging! it reads -
"Hoop also consumed more calories than conventional hoops. (fat people : 4.62kca per minute)"
Immediately I wondered if they had met me as it is safe to say they have not beaten about the bush in their description of the user! However it also depicts a slender, big busted cartoon character donning a sweat band on her forehead, spinning the hoop with weights in her hand. Maybe one day, but for now I am going to work on finding a way to rig it up to the light fitting so it stays up whilst I shake my bits at it. Wonder if this is going to be a night time activity for when no one is around and the curtains are closed?
Tuesday 5 April 2011
Fit in or F*** Off
As I stroll around one of the trendy high street stores looking to update my wardrobe, I supress the urge to stand at the shop entrance shouting "DO NOT ENTER UNLESS YOU ARE A SIZE 12 OR LESS" or something on the lines of "ENTER AT THE RISK OF LEAVING WITH AN ITEM THAT WILL NEVER FIT YOU BY THE SUMMER".
My favourite pair of jeans, bought for one Euro from a charity shop, has now got a large hole in the knee and the start of a rip in the bum. I have been told this is trendy but at my age and size I can just see the unfortunately embarrassing scene unfolding in front of me. It goes something like this.... I am out in a very busy public place, say - Tesco; I have all of the children with me and one of them sticks their hand out of the trolley whilst I am speeding down an isle and knocks a whole row of packaged pasta on the floor. In a flurry of embarrassment and annoyance I bend down to pick them up and ..... you guessed it.... the bottom of my jeans give way to reveal the pants I have owned for 9 years, elastic trailing out of them and a hole in the gusset! (Of course I haven't tackled the forest for a while either). In shock I quickly try to work out what to do next... Do I carry on picking up the pasta, or try and find the children that have done a bunk, or sod the trolley, sod the children and make a run for the nearest shelter? I can't answer this question but I do know one thing..... from now on I'm doing online shopping!
Anyway, back to clothes shopping, I would like nothing more than a comfy pair of jeans but I just don't fit in to the normal shape. I'm not pear shaped, wine glass or even an upside down triangle. To give you an idea, I have huge eyes, small nose, huge mouth, small boobs, large waist and tiny toes! You can get jeans for ladies with long legs, short legs, big hips, large bums, petite, flared, bootcut to hide big ankles, but nowhere have I seen jeans that go in at the hip and out at the waist. And what is with making hipsters to fit women over a size 12? All that happens is the folds of flab droop unattractively over the waistband... and they are bloody uncomfortable.
So as I abandon the trendy shops, I head to the M&S, Debenhams type shops that cater for young and OLDER and seek out some jeans that have such a high waist band I can tuck my tits into it.
Wish me luck.
My favourite pair of jeans, bought for one Euro from a charity shop, has now got a large hole in the knee and the start of a rip in the bum. I have been told this is trendy but at my age and size I can just see the unfortunately embarrassing scene unfolding in front of me. It goes something like this.... I am out in a very busy public place, say - Tesco; I have all of the children with me and one of them sticks their hand out of the trolley whilst I am speeding down an isle and knocks a whole row of packaged pasta on the floor. In a flurry of embarrassment and annoyance I bend down to pick them up and ..... you guessed it.... the bottom of my jeans give way to reveal the pants I have owned for 9 years, elastic trailing out of them and a hole in the gusset! (Of course I haven't tackled the forest for a while either). In shock I quickly try to work out what to do next... Do I carry on picking up the pasta, or try and find the children that have done a bunk, or sod the trolley, sod the children and make a run for the nearest shelter? I can't answer this question but I do know one thing..... from now on I'm doing online shopping!
Anyway, back to clothes shopping, I would like nothing more than a comfy pair of jeans but I just don't fit in to the normal shape. I'm not pear shaped, wine glass or even an upside down triangle. To give you an idea, I have huge eyes, small nose, huge mouth, small boobs, large waist and tiny toes! You can get jeans for ladies with long legs, short legs, big hips, large bums, petite, flared, bootcut to hide big ankles, but nowhere have I seen jeans that go in at the hip and out at the waist. And what is with making hipsters to fit women over a size 12? All that happens is the folds of flab droop unattractively over the waistband... and they are bloody uncomfortable.
So as I abandon the trendy shops, I head to the M&S, Debenhams type shops that cater for young and OLDER and seek out some jeans that have such a high waist band I can tuck my tits into it.
Wish me luck.
Sunday 3 April 2011
How often do you 'do it'?
Be honest ladies, on a day like today (Mother's Day) when in theory we are supposed to do NOTHING, let me ask you, how often do you do it? Change beds and wash bath towels I am talking about.
I was pondering this question whilst making tea for the kids (seems no one has told them it's Mother's Day) and thinking of all the housework I should do today. I think the beds are ready for a change of linen but I usually have to plan this a week in advance to get the pile of clothes washing as small as possible. I think two loads a day is quite enough washing for any normal woman to tolerate so why add to it?
I have never really known what is 'good practice' when it comes to changing bedding. Weekly? Monthly? With the children's beds (as it such a tedious job that takes me at least half an hour) I tend to change them when either, all of the poppers have opened or the duvet inside has got so dislodged I can no longer shake it out flat without taking the cover off. AND I think any of these bunk beds / high sleepers, even mid sleeps should come with a health warning for adults that reads - "WARNING damage to yourself is highly possible when trying to change a fitted sheet to this bed." And you would think changing the single beds would be the easiest. It then comes to our bed, it's only a double but we have a king sized duvet. I'm amazed that we can put a man on the moon yet no one has invented a machine for putting covers on duvets. There is a knack to it, and honestly? I think I'm quite good at it. But really, it's a workout of its own.
So with all of the excuses in hand, how often should I be changing the beds? I will NEVER iron bed linen!
Are there people out there that wash their bath towels after every use? This is maybe a slightly more personal subject than bed linen. Should they be changed, daily, weekly or when they start smelling of feet?
I go on further in my thoughts wondering if today, I will be able to do NOTHING or will housework get the better of me?
Happy Mother's Day. X
I was pondering this question whilst making tea for the kids (seems no one has told them it's Mother's Day) and thinking of all the housework I should do today. I think the beds are ready for a change of linen but I usually have to plan this a week in advance to get the pile of clothes washing as small as possible. I think two loads a day is quite enough washing for any normal woman to tolerate so why add to it?
I have never really known what is 'good practice' when it comes to changing bedding. Weekly? Monthly? With the children's beds (as it such a tedious job that takes me at least half an hour) I tend to change them when either, all of the poppers have opened or the duvet inside has got so dislodged I can no longer shake it out flat without taking the cover off. AND I think any of these bunk beds / high sleepers, even mid sleeps should come with a health warning for adults that reads - "WARNING damage to yourself is highly possible when trying to change a fitted sheet to this bed." And you would think changing the single beds would be the easiest. It then comes to our bed, it's only a double but we have a king sized duvet. I'm amazed that we can put a man on the moon yet no one has invented a machine for putting covers on duvets. There is a knack to it, and honestly? I think I'm quite good at it. But really, it's a workout of its own.
So with all of the excuses in hand, how often should I be changing the beds? I will NEVER iron bed linen!
Are there people out there that wash their bath towels after every use? This is maybe a slightly more personal subject than bed linen. Should they be changed, daily, weekly or when they start smelling of feet?
I go on further in my thoughts wondering if today, I will be able to do NOTHING or will housework get the better of me?
Happy Mother's Day. X
Saturday 2 April 2011
Dear 'my' Mum
Dear Mum
Welcome to my blog spot. I hope it doesn't embarrass you!
Just to let you know, I aint spell checkin or gramma checkin or nuffink like dat! Hope you enjoy.
Lots of love
X
Welcome to my blog spot. I hope it doesn't embarrass you!
Just to let you know, I aint spell checkin or gramma checkin or nuffink like dat! Hope you enjoy.
Lots of love
X
Spot the Difference
Now I don't want to have a rant this early in the morning but I'm sure I went through my teens secure in the knowledge that teenage acne was exactly that ...TEENAGE acne. So why do I find myself, at my age, waking up to a really sore, massive, under the skin (so can't yet be seen, but you know it's going to big hugely obvious in a couple of days) bump on my chin? This is all whilst there is a formation of some complicated star constellation exploding on my forehead.
And at a time in my life when I am turning to anti-wrinkle creams that moisturise and make your skin 'spring back' into place and 'plump up' (which just makes the blackheads look bigger), I am using facial washes that dry out all the pores.
And whilst Olay, like many other manufacturers, have a cream that fights the seven signs of aging, could they not add a little zit zapping in to the mix? Or maybe women of my age are not supposed have an acne problem. And - are the 7 signs of aging supposed to be like the 7 wonders of the world? Embrace them as spectacularly beautiful, a true natural wonder and another reason why women are so amazingly special. Well if this is the case then why are we spending loads of money on creams that claim to fix our 7 wonders?
If I could buy one cream that would fix the seven wonders of ageing of my choosing it would tackle -
1. Facial hair (in fact I would consider including big toe hair in that)
2. Varicos eveins
3. Sagging boobs
4. Bingo wings
5. Weak bladder
6. Not being able to think quickly enough to shout the right name at my misbehaving child, and then have to go quickly through all of the names in the household until I get the right one (and out loud just to make me look even more incompetent in front of them).
7. Aging acne
Whilst writing this I have decided to view my aging wonders with the same appreciation I have for my stretch marks. I worked hard to get them, suffered long to grow them and now with pride, I look at my children and think 'You did that'!
And at a time in my life when I am turning to anti-wrinkle creams that moisturise and make your skin 'spring back' into place and 'plump up' (which just makes the blackheads look bigger), I am using facial washes that dry out all the pores.
And whilst Olay, like many other manufacturers, have a cream that fights the seven signs of aging, could they not add a little zit zapping in to the mix? Or maybe women of my age are not supposed have an acne problem. And - are the 7 signs of aging supposed to be like the 7 wonders of the world? Embrace them as spectacularly beautiful, a true natural wonder and another reason why women are so amazingly special. Well if this is the case then why are we spending loads of money on creams that claim to fix our 7 wonders?
If I could buy one cream that would fix the seven wonders of ageing of my choosing it would tackle -
1. Facial hair (in fact I would consider including big toe hair in that)
2. Varicos eveins
3. Sagging boobs
4. Bingo wings
5. Weak bladder
6. Not being able to think quickly enough to shout the right name at my misbehaving child, and then have to go quickly through all of the names in the household until I get the right one (and out loud just to make me look even more incompetent in front of them).
7. Aging acne
Whilst writing this I have decided to view my aging wonders with the same appreciation I have for my stretch marks. I worked hard to get them, suffered long to grow them and now with pride, I look at my children and think 'You did that'!
Friday 1 April 2011
Say what?
I woke up this morning wondering about sayings that people use. Although I have not quite woken up and haven't had my first coffee, I am trying to work out if maybe everyone else is right and I am seriously in need of a mental health assessment.
For example, one I hear regularly is "Cloud cuckoo land"........ Is that not a mix up of two sayings? And if it is don't the two sayings mean totally different things? Being "in cuckoo land" means going a little la la yes? and being "on cloud nine" means being deliriously happy? So does "cloud cuckoo land" mean being deliriously happily mad?..... hummm think I might quite like to visit that land.
Then the saying "that went down like a lead balloon", I believe is an expression used when maybe something does not go down well? But wouldn't a lead balloon go down really well? And of course I understand the concept behind this one; a lead balloon wouldn't work. But, hypothetically, if a balloon went up and then turned into lead at a certain altitude it would come back down really efficiently.
"Over the hill", "it's all downhill from here"......... are these used to express the current situation is only going to get worse? But surely going downhill is much easier than up so things can only get better, no? Maybe that is wishful thinking on my part as I see my 40th on the horizon.
But then a population of people using these expressions can't be wrong so maybe I must accept that I am "thinking too much about it" and sit gazing out of the window daydreaming about cloud cuckoo land and the best way to get there.
For example, one I hear regularly is "Cloud cuckoo land"........ Is that not a mix up of two sayings? And if it is don't the two sayings mean totally different things? Being "in cuckoo land" means going a little la la yes? and being "on cloud nine" means being deliriously happy? So does "cloud cuckoo land" mean being deliriously happily mad?..... hummm think I might quite like to visit that land.
Then the saying "that went down like a lead balloon", I believe is an expression used when maybe something does not go down well? But wouldn't a lead balloon go down really well? And of course I understand the concept behind this one; a lead balloon wouldn't work. But, hypothetically, if a balloon went up and then turned into lead at a certain altitude it would come back down really efficiently.
"Over the hill", "it's all downhill from here"......... are these used to express the current situation is only going to get worse? But surely going downhill is much easier than up so things can only get better, no? Maybe that is wishful thinking on my part as I see my 40th on the horizon.
But then a population of people using these expressions can't be wrong so maybe I must accept that I am "thinking too much about it" and sit gazing out of the window daydreaming about cloud cuckoo land and the best way to get there.
Wednesday 30 March 2011
The Bra, currently my favourite invention
The Bra, The Over Shoulder Boulder Holder, The Boobie Basket and in Germany a Schtoppem Floppem.
I really think that the bra, for me, is highly ranked as one of the best inventions ever. For those of you who know me, I don't really need a bra as I wasn't in the front of the queue when boobs were being dished out so I don't wear one for all the conventional reasons. I only consider buying a bra if it has under wiring and at least 2inches of padding in the cup. Which has just raised another thought in my head.... When was the last time I bought a bra? Think it might have been 9 years ago for my wedding day. Anyway.... each morning I throw the straps of my fake boobs over my shoulders and give it no further thought for the day.
I have friends that regularly use their bras as a place to keep their drinking money, lip stick or even their house key and up until yesterday, the most interesting thing ever been put in my bra was a lighter, which kept falling out! And then I discovered my bra had an ultimate use that wasn't just for aesthetics........ A place to clip my iPod.
Ok I admit, I may have got a few stares in the gym when I discovered my new iPod storage place, but it worked! All I need to do now is work out how to use the iPod properly to avoid dumbfounded, shocked faces of other gym users when I fiddle with my nipples every few minutes.
I really think that the bra, for me, is highly ranked as one of the best inventions ever. For those of you who know me, I don't really need a bra as I wasn't in the front of the queue when boobs were being dished out so I don't wear one for all the conventional reasons. I only consider buying a bra if it has under wiring and at least 2inches of padding in the cup. Which has just raised another thought in my head.... When was the last time I bought a bra? Think it might have been 9 years ago for my wedding day. Anyway.... each morning I throw the straps of my fake boobs over my shoulders and give it no further thought for the day.
I have friends that regularly use their bras as a place to keep their drinking money, lip stick or even their house key and up until yesterday, the most interesting thing ever been put in my bra was a lighter, which kept falling out! And then I discovered my bra had an ultimate use that wasn't just for aesthetics........ A place to clip my iPod.
Ok I admit, I may have got a few stares in the gym when I discovered my new iPod storage place, but it worked! All I need to do now is work out how to use the iPod properly to avoid dumbfounded, shocked faces of other gym users when I fiddle with my nipples every few minutes.
Monday 28 March 2011
And the Biggest Tease Award goes to.......
THE GYM! You are lured there on the basis of becoming body beautiful and because it is expensive you also become upper class. Then when you get there, well, it is full of slim blondes that dont need to be there and dont break a sweat at all (and I dont believe they look like that BECAUSE of the gym) and pumping muscular men. This all adds to the insecurities of going in the first place. But I go anyway in hope rather than desire. Then if you stick to THE GYM and eat healthily you can get nearer to the body you want. But - and it's a BIG but, (in my case a big butt) the gym is bloody hard work. And then, just to kick you in the teeth, if you decided not to go just once in favour of doing something more lazy, you are immediately on a slippery slope back to flab. And the results DONT last!
And then there is the problem of the personal trainer. As I walk in to the gym with all my flabby bits swinging from side to side, how can I tell this 19 year old toned and pecked PT that I cant run, jump, skip, stand up on a bike without weeing myself, and he should swim for it if I should sneeze? Oh well, caution to the wind and double tena lady installed, lets go for it. The gym is supposed to be 'my time'. But then really 'my time' would involve coffee, a good book and a big bar of chocolate, all which equal the opposite effects of the gym.
So on the basis of persuading myself to go I have renamed it THE Jim. I have a session booked with THE Jim. Then I make sure my ipod is charged and head out the door. My aim this morning was not to worry about getting sweat patches around my VPL but TO get sweat patches around my VPL!
Ipods are great but again the distraction of loud music leads to other insecurities, am I singing out loud? am I panting too hard? did I just fart? A tip in this situation, I have found, is to cough. How loud my cough sounds gives me a gage of sounds I may involuntarily be making.
So with all the hatred for the gym and my body built up I relucantly got on my bike and cycled to the gym with the fantasy that all I needed to do was cycle there, have a coffee, cycle back and that would have the same effect. It was a good workout, really it was. But why the bloody hell, when leaving, did I sign up to do the New Forest half marathon next September? Have decided that maybe the gym isn't as good for me mentally as I have been lead to believe. Time to embrace the wobbly bits?
And then there is the problem of the personal trainer. As I walk in to the gym with all my flabby bits swinging from side to side, how can I tell this 19 year old toned and pecked PT that I cant run, jump, skip, stand up on a bike without weeing myself, and he should swim for it if I should sneeze? Oh well, caution to the wind and double tena lady installed, lets go for it. The gym is supposed to be 'my time'. But then really 'my time' would involve coffee, a good book and a big bar of chocolate, all which equal the opposite effects of the gym.
So on the basis of persuading myself to go I have renamed it THE Jim. I have a session booked with THE Jim. Then I make sure my ipod is charged and head out the door. My aim this morning was not to worry about getting sweat patches around my VPL but TO get sweat patches around my VPL!
Ipods are great but again the distraction of loud music leads to other insecurities, am I singing out loud? am I panting too hard? did I just fart? A tip in this situation, I have found, is to cough. How loud my cough sounds gives me a gage of sounds I may involuntarily be making.
So with all the hatred for the gym and my body built up I relucantly got on my bike and cycled to the gym with the fantasy that all I needed to do was cycle there, have a coffee, cycle back and that would have the same effect. It was a good workout, really it was. But why the bloody hell, when leaving, did I sign up to do the New Forest half marathon next September? Have decided that maybe the gym isn't as good for me mentally as I have been lead to believe. Time to embrace the wobbly bits?
Sunday 27 March 2011
So what's in a name?
Well tena lady and tittle tattle are my two favourite things at the moment....... apart from maybe coffee, white, 2 sugars. And really, if you think about it they all go hand in hand. I mean, coffee is always better with tittle tattle; tittle tattle usually makes me laugh; laughing makes me pee and coffee just adds to the flow. It is a threesome made in heaven.
I'm a blogger!
Welcome me to the land of blogging. It has already been an unexpected adventure.... Ooh what blog name to choose?.. hummmm... all the ones that I liked had some sort of sexual connotation, like, 'Ah bugger', or 'pounding head' or 'strumming along' etc etc... I didnt want my blog to be found by someone googling something totally different! And then there is the background, the colour, the font..... In the end I have decided that it really doesnt matter as it will only be me reading it! So what are the blogging rules? try not to offend anyone? try spell things correctly? Dont swear? Well I dont know what the rules are but I am certainly not going to be spell checking it! The other issue I immediately have is with my letter L. It seems to be on its way out, so just in case I need to cut and paste a few in the future, here goes.... L L L L L L L L L L L l l l l l l l l.
Right, guess I'm all set up now!
This blog is purely for me to rant and explore my thoughts. I have a lot of them which are constantly narrated like a scene from Sex and the City or like Dr Dorean from Scrubs. I hope you enjoy............
Right, guess I'm all set up now!
This blog is purely for me to rant and explore my thoughts. I have a lot of them which are constantly narrated like a scene from Sex and the City or like Dr Dorean from Scrubs. I hope you enjoy............
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