I got married 3 years ago today so I thought I would write a little bit about how we actually came to be married – also I was thinking that If for whatever reason we die before I document it perhaps our children won’t ever know the wondrous tale!
Actually it’s not such a great story… I would like nothing better than to tell you a tale like the one of my Mum and Dad’s. They met in a pub, sat on a staircase, him sitting on the step behind her. They got chatting, he asked for her number and a few days later having totally forgotten her name, called her lodgings and asked to speak to the ‘northern nurse’. A brave and totally uncharacteristic moment for my dad which led to mine and my sisters very existence.
Our tale was more akin to a gradual wearing down.
We met at work. Our jobs were on a similar level but he had to produce reports for me and unfortunately, probably as they were deeply dull reports, he often got them wrong.
We found each other mildly irritating for a while but slowly and surely over the course of a year we started to grow on each other.
We liked to stay up all night dancing.
We were just friends but I started to realise that I didn’t enjoy things as much when he wasn’t there.
One day, after an award win at work, our company held an event to celebrate. They had loads free booze so we got drunk and snogged.
The next day everyone was hungover. I said I couldn’t believe it. No one else was surprised.
Unedited scenes from the Advent frontline…
I’m a P/T SAHM, a P/T WM and a P/T WAHM. If you don’t know what any of those stand for then good for you.
I have always felt a very strong need to work, or just engage my brain and passions outside of being a parent. That in itself causes problems in my confused little head.
I wonder if I’m a bad mum because I look forward to having time away from my boys on the days that I work and when I’m at work I feel guilty about leaving them. The stupidest thing of all is that during the time I am supposed to be enjoying away from them, I just end up missing them instead.
That is the great brain f*ck of parenthood.
The need to escape, the guilt, the worry, the constant question that you are not doing a good enough job. How is anyone supposed to make sense of all that stuff?
When my oldest son dropped all daytime sleeps before his second birthday I assumed that such a gross injustice could only be explained as a blip in the great scheme of fair nap distribution. This time around I realise there is no such scheme.
Over the last week we have had a 2/7 success rate with the toddlers naps which can only mean one thing – they are on their way out *sobs into gin*
I just don’t get it! If only I could ask him what the hell is going on in his head…
Me: So um, I was wondering… why don’t you want to nap any more?
Toddler: Things to do, people to see. You know how it is when you’re 21 months old. The world is so fresh and EXCITING!
Me: Most other kids your age nap you know…
Toddler: Most other kids my age are pansies.
Me: Napping is not a sign of weakness, a nice post lunch snooze is very normal.
Toddler: F*ck normal.
Me: The baby books suggest most kids…
Toddler: F*ck the baby books.
Me… continue napping until around 3!
Toddler: What don’t you get here? NAPS ARE FOR CHUMPS!
Me: You’d feel a lot better if you napped you know…
Toddler: You’d feel a lot better if you stopped being so bloody anal about napping!
I don’t know if it’s the colder, darker days or the fact that my boys have been tag teaming me with a pre 6am wake up every fricking day of the week, but I’ve been feeling a teeny tiny bit tired lately.
Anyway I don’t like to complain so Instead I thought I would share my best practice guide to getting through the day when you are severely sleep deprived – broken down into easy manageable stages.
Actually I guess it’s more of a big long whinge but whatever here we go…
1, Shock – It’s dark, you are toasty warm in bed dreaming of being a world class gymnast when suddenly there is a small child all up in your face demanding cheerios, milk and/or a particular toy you haven’t seen for months.
‘Go back to sleep’ you say. ‘It’s the middle of the night!’ you say. But when you reach for you phone to confirm the nonsense hour you see that it is actually morning. Or at least A version of morning, just not a particularly good one…
So I went to a blog conference at the weekend, what a geek! It was put on by the very lovely Mumsnet – a site I enjoy for the sweary bitchfest that it is.
I was looking forward to it for several reasons, of course the prospect to glean considerable bloggy knowldge but mostly because of:
1, No kids
2, Free gin
3, Tim Dowling promising to fix my broken washing machine
Another nice thing about the conference was that the wonderful people at Coca-Cola offered to take me as their guest and booked me into a lovely hotel the night before – what a treat! Not really wanting to share my room with a domestic appliance, and also because lugging it around all day would have been a bit of a bind, I sadly left the washing machine behind.
Last week J and I took our biggest boy up to London for a day trip. We hadn’t done anything particularly out of the ordinary over half-term apart from douse our heads in nit lotion (twice) so it seemed like a nice idea.
We decided to hit the museums which is something I’ve been wanting to do with him for a while; with the littlest in nursery it was also the perfect opportunity to give him some undivided attention and maybe even expand his mind away from Lightning McQueen for a wee bit.
From previous trips away, particularly ones organised with effort and expense I have learnt it’s important to keep expectations low on both sides.
Firstly your own – Never make the mistake of looking forward to seeing a delighted face. It doesn’t matter how much you ‘think’ your kid will love it – in some way, shape or form they will piss all over it. In fact I would wager there is a strong correlation between the degree you expect they will enjoy it and the level of disinterest they actually show.
Second and most importantly, theirs – It’s wise to have a conversation along the lines of…
‘Just so you know… you won’t actually get to ride a rocket to the moon in the Science Museum and there is no magic time travel clock in the Natural History Museum. Ditto to ice-cream fountains, helter-skelters, talking penguins or whatever other random bullshit you conjured up in your head. It’s. Just. Boring. Museums. Ok?’
Luckily I did quite well with this resulting in F being largely nonplussed about the whole trip. So much so that he wasn’t even bothered about going #winning.
I’m not a Halloween Scrooge, far from it! I like nothing better than dressing up like a tw*t and taking my kids knocking on random people’s doors asking for free stuff in a terribly unBritish like fashion.
However there is one thing that really gets my Halloween goat. The pathetic attempt by brands to cash in on it by making absolutely zero effort to spook up their products…
Cadburys WTF is so ‘scary’ about an orange cake bar?!?
Unless i am mistaken Hartleys what is so fangtastic about your bog standard strawberry Jelly?
If you are a regular reader of my blog you will notice that I don’t do many reviews. If I was to be inundated with offers of holidays or gin then I would probably do more, in fact all you would be seeing is a stream of holidays and/or gin. Unfortunately for me, and fortunately for the boys, it’s often toys that are on the table *looks at house full of plastic and sobs*.
Anyway in order to ensure they don’t get spoilt and to keep the level of crap in our house down to semi acceptable levels I have a policy of only saying yes to things that I would genuinely buy myself. So when Fisher Price offered to send me their Fire Station Playset I jumped at the chance, the kiddos are emergency vehicle crazy and I knew
it would keep them out of my face for a wee while they would love it.
What I liked most about this set was the attention to detail – the sounds and flashing lights, the water jet, the trapdoor, the wind up ladder, fire mans pole, the pulley, the stand up leg things on the fire engine, the fact that it all folds up, the opening doors and windows. There are so many different bits to play with it really did and does provide many minutes of entertainment.
We’re 6 weeks down the school starters line, 3 part time, 3 full time and we are already hurtling towards half-term. For every parent out there looking forward to spending a week with their little cherub there is another one thinking IS THAT IT?!?
I’m not saying that’s me. But it might be me.
So what are our thoughts about school so far? Well I had a few concerns, perhaps slightly amplified by the fact F only turned 4 in August. I worried that he wouldn’t be able to sit still, that he would miss me and that it might all be too much for him, I had a lot of confidence in him you see.
The reality is that I was wrong. He skips through the door happily each day, he condemns people who end up on the cloud for bad behaviour and tells me (YES ME!!) off because ‘You’re not doing good listening Mummy!’
I don’t know whether to feel proud or insulted. I don’t know whether to feel like a success as a parent or a total failure as one.
I was right about one thing however and that was that he might not be able to wipe his own bum properly – the skid marks are there to prove it. Hurrah go me! Oh hang on a minute though, that’s a sh*t one to be right about. Literally.
Another thing i’ve noticed is that he is ever so slightly more tired than usual.