Christmas....The Aftermath

Almost a month since Christmas. Ah, love Christmas. Love, love, love it...it's like a big shiny disco ball. I decline for at least 3 months after it's all over. The problem with Christmas is (and there aren't really any problems with Christmas but if there was one this would be it) the aftermath. Not financially, I don't do Christmas on my credit card but when I do find myself in ASDA, forking out double the amount I would normally deem unacceptable in the single amount, I remain insouciant. Children's demands don't bother me because they don't really make any. The certain mayhem of the actual day...well, it wasn't too bad this year and we're a bit disorganised here at Demands? Towers anyway, so we cope. No, it's the 'taking down of the decorations' that gets me. Every year, without fail, we manage to stock pile another box of decorations (Sig. Other has a bit of a thing for Christmas lights and I have a bit of a thing for breaking them, plus I love John Lewis, you get the picture). So, there is all this stuff piled up and then I have to hack off the branches of the Christmas Tree and someone always manages to get a pine needle stuck in them...me, usually. So, it's all going on, I'm finding rouge baubles in random places but it gets done and I realise how a few carefully placed decorative displays manage to disguise a plethora of clutter. Now we are exposed...now I have to get sorted, get organised because the darn 'New Year' rears it's unwelcome head with all that 'New Beginning' nonsense. It's a real problem for the chronically disorganised.

So I did it all, I managed to sort it all and one month...a whole month later, I'm still getting pine needles stick in my feet and still finding rouge Rose's chocolates. Still wading through pickles and bath gel. However, I really, really, really do wish it was still Christmas.....'I know Mum' yawns my 7 year old 'you say that ALL the time.' Sensible girl. Maybe I have an issue with letting go?

things my baby says

eeer ya go mummi (here you go mummy... but in a very Manc. accent)

pick you (PICK ME UP NOW)

Where? (please find the washing insruction label on my blanket)

Guy (In The Night Garden)

Guy NOW (Can I watch In the Night Garden?)



Why doesn't #3 talk as much as #1 and #2? Probably doesn't need to, they do it for him. Plus, is anybody elses child obsessed with the tag ( the washing ones) on blankets etc? What's that about?

'Me time'....hmmm. How does that work then?

Discuss

I started insisting on this ritual, mainly because of the summer holiday and because of the summer holiday, me and my brood are chained at the hip. I was reading this posh woman's periodical, that's where it all started. The magazine itself was all 'Outfits which will carry you from the boardroom to .....' ah, I dunno, wherever these woman make off to when they've finished in the boardroom and creating the 'shabby' as in chic look...as opposed to the SHABBY as in a bit grubby, sorry folks, I've got that look down pat.

Anyway, this mag. waxed lyrical about 'the importance of time spent in a state of tranquility' Say this last bit with a slightly furrowed brow...as if you really care. The author carried on waxing about the Grandmother, who, when caring for her Grand-brood, insisted on shutting her door for an hour and indulging in some relaxing activity....me time.

I'm all for me time but my 'me' time usually consists of ME putting the baby down for his sleep and trying to watch Come Dine With Me repeats, whilst my other 2 jump all over ME. Please don't judge on the Come Dine... front; we all have our guilty pleasures. I have several: Man V Food, Iron Chef America and, well anything low brow, American and food related. I am, of course, very high brow but during 'me' time, I like a bit of low brow. I wouldn't say my 'me' time was solely for me anymore. My eldest ones love watching the Food Channel, they love Man v Food, they love my low brow televisual treats, 'Mummy's time' is a reason to celebrate! Sometimes they even ask for lemonade. Lemonade!!!! Well, it is the hols so I occasionally capitulate, on the condition that they get it themselves, for it is ME time. More reason to whoop, they give themselves far more than I would ever allow.

So, in conclusion, does it work? Hmmmmm....the tranquility bit passes me by but maybe that's more to my dubious tastes in entertainment; watching a grown man eat his own body weight in burgers is hardly tranquil making. On the other hand, the kids understand that I need a bit of a sit down when the wee one is napping and, yeah....well... yeah. Yes/No (don't you hate it when people say that) but yes/no...it can and it can't..I don't mind...because maybe, one day they want want to encroach on my 'me' time, then I will be sad.


PS..review for Brio Hedgehog to follow...so sorry, I have lost the web address for the guy who asked me to review...please send it to me, the Brio Hedgehog was a storm!

Breast is best......or is it? Plus a few asides...

There is a supermodel, she's called Giselle Bundchen and, apparently, she thinks a law should be passed and the mother's of this world should be made to breast feed for at least the first six months of baba's new life....hmmmm, conjours up pictures of battery breast feeding farms, with Ms Bundchen policing the proceedings. How else could you do it? D'you think the Tories...opps, sorry, the 'coalition' could find a few extra pennies down the back of the sofa to fund 'Breast is Best' enforcers? Sorry, my inner child is giggling at the thought of the uniform.... go to the naughty step inner child!

Read the BBC article, go on...I defy you not to gasp in astonishment, roll around on the floor displaying large amounts of mirth, shake your fist at the computer, whilst emitting a healthy GGGRRRR. As for the modelling of swim wear after 6 weeks....isn't that a bit early to go back to work Ms B? Sorry, couldn't resist. The point is, after 6 weeks of having my first child, I was leaking nay, squirting breast milk everywhere (gallons of it...everywhere), crying in pain due to a nasty, nasty bout of mastitis and ready to quit breast feeding. I didn't, and was lucky enough to feed all my babies for a long (long, long, loonnnngggg) time.

She thinks: 'Are you going to give chemical food to your child when they are so little?' Sweetie, these women, y'know, the ones who bottle feed? Well, they aren't giving their babies crack cocaine. It is lovely to breast feed but, for some, it isn't possible, it isn't an option or it isn't desirable. We are not to judge. I know people who do extended breast feeding, co-sleep, attachment parenting etc and then spend the next few years being frustrated by their feisty, awkward toddlers. The point being, as long as our babies feel loved and secure, we have given them the best possible start. Provide the support for those that do breast feed...breast feeding cafes sound lovely (far more comfortable than feeding baby at a crowded Old Trafford Cricket Ground firework display) but, equally, don't make those who don't somehow 'inferior' or guilty; it isn't fair.

Right, this post marks my blogging comeback. I'm still teaching but it is, in no way, going to take over my life. That aside, nothing much has occurred, although my 7 year has discovered 'popular' music....she likes this

and these
How could this happen???!! I'm wondering now....I mean, I don't want to create a child in the image of myself, but all those hours listening to The Clash and the Buzzcocks; did they meant nothing!!!!???? Ahhh well, I used to love A-Ha, so one day, pop may well itself (muso ref there for all your muso's) and, whilst no doubt disagreeing on a lot ( d#1 is feisty to say the least) we may unite in a love of good music.

When is a baby not a baby?

Nope I haven't given up my...ahem...'career' in teaching to become the Riddler; instead I've been pondering the issue of whether my 15month old baby #3, last baby - Archie to be precise - has, without telling me ( he has no manners that Archie!) turned into a toddler:



Here he is looking quite angelic (or maybe a bit guilty?!); "ohhhh he looks like a proper little boy now" people do exclaim. Does he? I always thought he looked quite girly! He did when he was a new born but that is probably because he was the image of my daughter and not at all like my son. He walks, he climbs, he feeds himself, he plays; all the things a toddler should be doing but, nope, he's still a baby. My friend, who has a little one 2 weeks younger than Archie,refers to her 'toddler'; mind you,she's expecting her second in a few months...that, in my experience,is when the baby #1 really does grow up!

Do last babies stay babies longer than others? I think so. Therefore, I pledge to continue to ensure Archie calls himself 'baby', I will continue to buy sleepsuits with feet in (so cute) etc, etc,etc (ha,ha...that's what the kids did in my old class when they couldn't be bothered finishing their stories eg '...and they woke up and it was all a dream etc, etc, etc). So,in a few years time, if you should happen to see an 18 year old male wandering around in a sleepsuit shouting "I'm not a 'baybee' now mother" send him on home to me.

On another note; why do kids have great hair?
Here's Lily. Lily hates hairbrushes, shuns clips, what never, ever, in a million years let me dry her hair and yet her hair is the colour of spun gold and has the bounce of ...something very bouncy. When I was a child,I remember my mum would spend ages combing and drying and putting it in rollers (remember those sponge rollers with the clip on?). I would,of course, moan about this imposition...just like Lily does if I advance with the hairbrush now. "Doesn't matter"my mum would tell me "when I was a child my mum put my hair in rags...that was far more painful" and the brushing and the rollering would continue unabated. Hmmmmmm...rags...now that would be a novel sanction: "Don't answer back...or I'll put your hair in rags" bet that's better than the naughty step of time out bucket. I'll let you know.

Piles....

...no not THOSE sort of piles (ya see what I did there!? A cheap way to get attention I know!) I am, however, suffering from the worst kind of piles; piles of junk mail; school letters; THINGS that need immediate attention (my sense of the immediate is ahem...a rather delayed reaction). These piles though, they just grow; they breed over night. What started out as a relatively modest pile snowballs into mountains of paper and plastic and library books and...well the list goes on.

Childbirth brings about the worst, most painful sort of piles (I did it again....;-) because those are the piles that need to be dealt with; envelopes that need to be opened: the child trust fund, the school targets, which I kind of ignore; hey, I'm a teacher I know where my kids are at....honestly. I won't get started on target setting for our wee ones, those who should be playing and not worrying about sub levels and SAT's. Suffice to say, have no fear, if I ever happened to teach your child I would target set until the cows come home (it comes with the role, no matter how ridiculous I find it!). The most dreaded source of piles though it the WORKING TAX CREDIT THINGYS. How many pieces of paper does that one use???!!! I have studied each and every correspondence from a variety of angles but, nope, it makes no sense to me.

So, these piles are building up and are being ever so neatly stacked on any available surface and I look and think 'Goodness, must do something about that lot' but still they grow. Of course immediate filing would sooth the problem but then that would dispel my assumption that I'm suffering from some sort of chronic disorganisation disorder. It's real, honestly! Google it..there are specialists in the States who deal with this sort of thing. So, you see, it's catch 22. WHAT should I do about my piles?? More than likely, stop this procrastination and starting acting....oh well, mañana.

PS: Mum with carrot in her hair tagged me in a meme (that always make me laugh as son#2 calls his blanket Meme) I haven't forgotten Mum....and I will do (it's the Chronic dis......yeah, yeah!)

The problem with...

work. The problem with work is that you actually have to be prepared to turn up and do it. Since going back to work (albeit part time), I realise I don't feel the same anymore. Sorry work, we used to have a connection but it's all over...it's not you, it's me. Work has definitely been supplanted by family (this was always the case) and, dare I say it, domesticity. Honestly, pre-kids I didn't care what state the house was in, as long as it was basically clean (not quite as bad as the friend who, after a break in at her flat called the police, they were commiserating with her, over the appalling state the reprobates had left her room in, it was with some huge embarrassment that she had to admit that this was her natural habitat).

Anyway, work. I basically like my job, I don't like box ticking, continual monitoring, huge workloads that insist on an invite home. 'Why do you stay up until 3am working?' asked one of my childless colleagues. She's planning a baby, 'you'll find out' I said, hopefully in enigmatic tones, but more likely in a weary drawl enhanced by the eye tick, the signifier of the permanently knackered.

So, I'm (hopefully) shipping out; well, for a bit anyway. I reduced my hours, changed my role, been very pro-active but I'm sick of snapping at my own kids because I've been pushed to the limit at work. I'm sick of rejecting nights out because there is still one more job to do.

Sooooo, any suggesting for 'life after teaching?'. Or, alternatively, is there a school out that that still trust teachers enough to teach? C'mon...there must be one or two?

I don't like going out....

...but I did and it was ace. I'm not a fan of "going out"; I used to be, I used to be very spur of the moment/fly by the seat of my pants but now, well, if you can't guarantee that, once out, I can sit down and be home by a certain hour, I tend to find it a chore. I guess it's more the thought of getting out of the house that's the chore, I usually end up enjoying myself.
I blame sleep deprivation and work but that's another moan. So, I went out not once but 3 times. Unprecedented. Mum's night, evening with a friend and the icing on the cake, the "going out" highlight of the past decade, last night was Public Image Limited. Unbelievable. One minute we had stomped into the Manchester Academy, leaving behind the slushy streets of Oxford Road and the next we were watching an icon. Mr John Lydon; Johnny Rotten I salute you...one of a kind.

WORKING!!!!!

I'm sort of here but not, work has claimed me and it's getting harder to clean the house, prepare for work and spend quality time with my kids...poor blogging, taken a back seat again. I'm not saying my job is more demanding or anything because it is (joke, just joking it probably isn't). Teaching, however, has become A LOT more full on since I class taught last (not PPA cover or supply) so whilst it's good, I'm feeling the pressure. My job share is off sick (and he is quite ill, get well soon) so, I have increased my days and have planning and assessment all to myself (the joys). The school? It's great, tough but great. I can't make any comment about it on a public forum, suffice to say that some of the individual cases I have come across make me realise how lucky we, as a family, are to have each other to love and support. I'm no stranger to inner city, urban environments but this time round I feel sad because I KNOW any effect I make will be temporary. So I will be back soon and for now I must dedicate my time to my own kids and my slightly eccentric, very noisy class (if you can't see us, you'll definitely hear us)

I am still here..honest

Where have I been? We did I stop blogging? I never intended to...I know, the 6 weeks holiday might have had something to do with it, oh and starting back at work. I missed it though, I really missed it; so I'm trying to be back properly, or at least every couple of weeks!!

Annabel Karmel's Pasta....a review....

The review was, or rather is for Annabel Karmel's Make it Easy pasta range. I say "was" because as a written review it's actually been ready for some time, BUT I had no camera to document with. Therefore,I must apologise, no grovel, to Sian at Clear as PR, who has been very patient.

Right, onward! The pasta initially appealed because it had the words "Make it Easy" emblazoned on the packet...ahhh..music to my ears. And was it? Yep, cooked in 5 minutes, no problems. The other positive, was the fact that it is gluten free. Now, I'm no expert on nutrition but serving gluten to a delicate digestive system does concern me somewhat; ergo, the promise of "gluten free" was again, music to my ears.

Another plus point with this product was, a little went a long way. It has fed my 4 and 6 year old over the past few days, as well as the baby and, as the picture shows, there's still plenty left. I used it in a stew:"Yum" says Lily, 6; I used it with pesto :"Don't like pesto!" says Zak, 4 but Archie did and here's the photographic evidence to prove it

Above: eagerly anticipating cheesy pasta and pesto; doesn't that face just say "Feed me NOW mummy!" Below: one satisfied customer and I do hope he remembered to compliment the chef!

So, the last word to baby Archie. Will it be an optimistic "Ah Da" or a wholly negative "DA DA DA"; he said "Ah Da". The right result and a ringing endorsement!




Finally, don't forget to get yourself over to Brits in Bosnia and enjoy the best of what the mummy blogger's have to offer this fortnight. Better than a magazine and much more economical!!

Sports Day!!!!

It's that time of year again: the egg and spoon race, the sack race, tug of war, the humiliation of being dragged along in the three legged race and all to mark the end of the school year. Fun, fun, fun; or not, if you're a non-competitive, competition hater such as myself. Actually, I tell a lie, I did love the warm orange squash and biscuit we were awarded as a treat after the event, and running. Running was fun too but just running; that is running, without the encumbrance of having to balance a quoit on my head (see picture for some stellar examples of quoits). We were in teams: red, blue, yellow and green, primarily because they were the colours of the sashes one was forced to wear, which in turn, matched the colours of quoits and bean bags (integral to sports day) and, ohhh, the responsibility! The responsibility that came with that sash, the pressure not to let the rest of the time down. Now, I'm talking here, as one who was always the last to be picked at sports. Give me a spelling test and I was there; but sports? I think the main problem was, I didn't "get" having to come 1st. Well, someone had to be 4th, or even last. Put that sash on, however, and you were at the mercy of THE most competitive child in form 2B, as they systematically shattered your illusion of that coveted 4th place. They would FORCE you into athletic prowess, just because you both HAPPENED to be wearing a blue sash and quoit. It's not that I don't see the value in a little competition, it's just that I'm very non-competitive. I like to do well, but if my best means 4th place and I've tried hard then that's fine too. Now, though, schools seem to have done away with sports day. In my 8 years at the "chalkface", I have participated in any number of "fun days" but no traditional, sash wearing, bean bag swinging sports days. The school that D#1 and S#1 attend don't seem to do anything to mark the end of the year; well, there is a teddy bears picnic, plus a few games for s#1. Having said that, I am infamous for misreading letters (in my defence, the amount of letters sent home from my kid's school would paper the walls of a small mansion at the very least) so D#1 could be on for a full on athletic extravaganza soon. Y'know what though? I kind of miss it. Not so much for s#1, he is like me, he hates competitive events; but d#1 would be in her element. She loves a bit of competition, well a lot, if I'm honest; it kind of, drives her forward. My only sigh of relief would have to be, not running the mums race. D#1 would demand it and would expect a win, and it would all end in (my) tears. I can almost hear it: "No mother of mine come in 4th, you go out there and you win!" Hang on a minute, I seem to be raising that child that doesn't value 4th place...how can that be?

Strangely enough, it seems the traditional school sports day is making a come back in some sectors; check this out. When you have tell, please tell me me why? Would YOU put yourself through a sport day type event 30 years after you HAD to do it the first time round?

A Tag of 8's (which took me about 8 weeks to complete)

I have been tagged by the fabulous Wife of the Bold and SandyCalico, with the tag of 8's (wow! I'm still trying to think of the 8 remaining facts from the last thing...maybe I could squeeze a couple in here!?); anyway, here goes....

RULES
1) Mention the person who tagged you
2) Complete the list of 8's
3) Tag 8 others and let them know

Right, let's DO this...huh! (said in the manner of rubbish American Cop show)

8 Things I'm looking forward to

1. Sleeping for a WHOLE night, uninterrupted bliss.
2. Going to see Quadrophenia at the Opera House (or some such place) on Saturday. It's one of my favourite films; not sure how it'll translate into a stage play but, hey, it's a night out.
3. The sun shining; again. Please!?
4.Long, long 6 week summer holiday.
5.A tidy house (in my dreams)
6.A flat stomach (again in my dreams)
7.Today, the kids coming home from school, want them at home today.
8.Something to happen....not sure what. Will let you know when it has.

8 Things I did yesterday
1. Took s#1 to A&E (where we shall probably be taking up permanent residence soon). He swallowed a 5p st school
2. Loaded some new posts onto my daughters blog, lilyamber.blogspot.com, very sweet.
3. Completed my usual quota of procrastination; I did a bit of staring into space, checked Rightmove that sort of thing ;)
4. FAILED to do any house work (procrastination takes time and dedication, dontcha know)
5. Ohhhh made a lovely Korma from Jamie Oliver's new book (The Ministry one) I don't cook (well only for the kids 'cos I have to) I hate cooking but this book is so bloody simple...top! I'm not a fan of Oliver in his cooking demonstration programmes though...can't abide his jaunty manners (being basically dour person myself, it rubs me up the wrong way). I rather like his social crusade ones though.
6.I watched Dodgeball for the millionth time on film4. I like this film but I don't know why I seem to have seen it sooo many times, I don't like it THAT much. Also don't understand why I stayed up until 11.30pm watching it? I guess only I can answer that (probably got to the point where I was so tired, doing something different seems insurmountable!)
7.Went to ASDA, put a load of stuff back that I reckon I didn't really need. Took my s#1 to the sweetie shop after A&E to pick a consoling ice-cream for him and d#1 and my friend's kids and my friend (she's very good and looked after d#1 whilst A&E was going on) Oh, and me! I wanted one too! "Pick anything!" I trilled. So, he went for the really expensive Flake cornetto thingy; COST a fortune!!! Bang goes my ASDA saving! It'll be mini milks from now on I tell ya!
8.Made some piles of stuff to go into the loft (in ohhhhh about 7 weeks time!)

8 Things I wish I could do
1)More domestic ish things
2)Sing 9well I think I've greatly improved over the years, some would beg to differ.
3)I wish I could do "optimism" a bit better; 'fraid I am more of a glass half empty.
4)Control my (or rather obliterate) my raging hormones.
5)Make it so every child in the UK could read.
6) Make it so every child in the world had the chance to attend school on a regular basis.
7)Fly
8)Make a decision quickly.

8 favourite fruits
1) Strawberries (my s#1 is the only person I know who doesn't like strawberries - except for those who are allergic- I find it very odd)
2)Blueberries...especially in blueberry muffins;)
3) good 'ol kiwi
4) Apples. I craved them when I was pregnant with d#1 but I generally found that the ones I got had accidentally tripped up into a crumble, or pie, or turnover. Odd that...
5)Oranges but I usually avoid due to sticky nature. OK satsumas. YES!! They remind me of Christmas.
6)Lemons. You're not bitter or sour; you're lovely.
7)erm....rhubarb?
8)Maybe...raspberries

and I HATE watermelon (any melon really) gooseberries, mango (like the taste not the texture); anything dried bleuurghhhhh.

8 Places I'd like to travel
1) To the edge of space
2)Ohh too hard. There are too many places and I can't think of one. India, actually, and I've never been to Ireland. Every year I say "lets go to Ireland" but we always end up in Scotland. I like Scotland but I'd like to go to Ireland next year.
I know you're supposed to do 8 but I really can't think. Honest.


8 Places I've lived
1) Manchester
2)Preston
3) Seriously, that's it. Let me see? In Manchester, I've lived in...
4)Hulme (Manchester inner city)
5)Sale (Manchester Suburb)
6)Flixton (Manchester suburb)
7)The imaginary land that exists only in my head.
8) Finished now.

So, I will pass it on to

Clareybabbling
Kelloggsville
Wife not Lodger
and1 more means four
Mamma Po
Eve Upshall
Soapboxmummy

PS May I point out that, due to procrastination, this post was started about 2 weeks ago, so any news is old news BUT I'm on the case now and I'm gonna get better at this I promise!

MOVING!!!

I'm really excited!!! I'm moving house!!! Currently I am trying to decide which room the 4 kids will occupy. Our new garden is lovely; It's HUGE and split into 3 sections: a civilized "grown up" patio/decked bit (handy for BBQ's on a day like today); a lovely, lush garden bit in the middle (handy for sunbathing in on a day like today!) and a wild secluded bit at the bottom, where the kids can play in the manner of the Swallows and Amazons sans watery element (I was going to suggest Lord of the Flies, but I can't be doing with the fighting and there's going to be a few too many girls there). There is, of course, an office and the loft conversion is to die for. In fact, I might put D#1 and S#1 in one of the rooms up there, and use the other bit as a playroom. Did I tell you about the original features? Ohhhh, it's all sash windows, cast iron fireplaces and tiled hallways. An added attraction has to be the massive garage but, hey, we'll have off road parking too. Best of all, there is no chain...

...and I really must stop this imaginary moving house business. Why is Rightmove so much more appealing than the Teaching Ideas website? I should be planning Green Day (no not the band) for school. Back to reality... BUMP!!!!

Award time!

Four awards in one go!! Right. Sorry folks but I'm going to follow Clareybabbling's lead and list a load of ace blogs and let them select the award they think would look best on their blog BECAUSE once again, I have procrastinated and I'm trying to see who has what, and who doesn't but, ahhh, I don't know, it's all too confusing...if I haven't credited you like Amy or Clareybabbling, for instance, it's because you have all 3 and probably don't want an exercise in repetition coming your way. Moral is...do your homework straight away, otherwise all roads lead to confusion!

Thank you Rebel Mother for this one! I love reading about your days in the Madhouse...I know were you're coming from darling! Soooooo, to get this right I have to name three things I'm grateful for? Gosh, a hard one...I could be really frivolous but then people might think I'm shallow; I could say coffee cup cakes, Straits Kitchen (lovely take away place at the top of the road) and dishwashers: ALTERNATIVELY, I could be very deep (actually I can't be very deep; I'd find that too difficult).

So, 3 things
1) Family...kids, sig other, step daughter, brother, sister, Ma and Pa (the the rest of "the clan"). They're great, I love 'em. Some of them have put up with a lot from me when I was preggers with #3. OCD related, mad ante-natal depression patch; all gone now but the memory of the support I received will stay in my heart and mind forever.
2) Friends old and new; I haven't got that many but those I have are worth their proverbial weight. From sharing a laugh, to providing support (see above) when times got hard; for staying constant and loyal.
3)Being able to read; working in school has made me realise the amount of people who can't. Books provide my family unit with such pleasure...from giggling over the Beano, trips to the library, finding out about stuff, oh and the rest! I was told once "you will never be bored if you can read a book" and it's true.


And now, from Amy and Clareybabbling Honest Scrap...that kinda reflects my whole persona actually!

Right, when I received this, I initially thought I had to list 10 embarrassing things I'd done! I racked my brain and came up with very little. Is this because I never embarrass myself OR I never stop, hence, it doesn't even register? As I could only come up with one MAJORLY embarrassing thing, I was about to rush out and commit 9 more cringe worthy deeds; then I re-read it (story of my life!) and now understand (light bulb switches ON). So, ten things about me? I'm going to follow Amy on this one and list them over a number of posts because, to be honest, it's going to take me some time to think up 10 things that would be of any real interest; lets start with the embarrassing one:
When I was a newly qualified teacher, I was full of the joys of teaching; my new class was a Year2 (never to be forgotten). I was teaching them the phoneme "sh": " and what else begins with"sh" ? Anyone?", "Sheet? Good boy Izak", "Sheep? Well done Reece" ,"Shine? Lovely Shakira" ,"Ship? Brilliant Chelsea". All the while, my little NQT mind was telling me "ship ends in a 'p' not a 't', ship ends in a 'p' not a 't'". I wrote the word on the board with a flourish and a beam. Chelsea raised her hand "Yes darling?" ,"Miss 'ship' ends in a 'p' not a 't'" OMG, yes I'd written it...on the board, in front of 29 7 years olds. You've never seen a board rubber move quicker!! I had visions of my gaff leading me to the dole queue and, as I confessed all to my mentor, she laughed, preempted the end of my sorry tale and told me to "wait until you come to rhyming 'uck' words"
Another fact...when I was little I had 2 imaginary friends. They were called Pompsy and Kacky (I know what you're thinking....what a sh*t name!). I also had a little knitted kangaroo with a baby in it's pouch; I named this baby...wait for it... Titty (my parents must have been biting their tongues at this one!)

And lastly, from the lovely SandyCalico , I just want to pass this on to Laura Driver's (Are We Nearly There Yet Mummy?) other blog, the poignant and beautifully written A Mum Shaped Hole





The blogs I pass on to are

Soapbox Mummy
Wife of the Bold
OMG We're Pregnant!
twelvemonthsofmayhem
Kels Korner
Aventures of a Sleepless Toddler
Crazymaisey
Writeonmum
ManicMel
Rosie Scribble
Sandy Calico
The Dotterel
Notsupermum
Mum in Chaos
Another Day in the Madhouse
Being a Mummy

PS aplologies for any I've left off and for my spelling; I've a feeling it won't be much cop and it's PMT time (see last post) so what ya gonna do????!!!

PMT time, means MARMITE time!!!???

Gosh...feels like ages since I've posted (well, lets face it it is!). Things have tumbled along as usual BUT that tiredness thing has struck again! Not the usual "new baby" tiredness but the crushing type, that makes me think (ANOTHER) trip to the doctor is in order for more of the luurrvely iron pills that give me piles. Other than that, the kids have been dispatched back to school; d#1 was desperate to return. Is this a good thing? I think so...but then...does it mean that she's bored and unstimulated at home? Y'see these are the thing that worry me when I'm tired, "normal" me would just be glad that she is an enthusiastic learner and has a New Best Friend (not only a NBF but also a "secret sister" so I'm told...but shhhhhh, it's a secret, known only to me and a few dozen other). S#1 is loving school nursery, just a bit of a glitch this morning because I hadn't put the sellotape in the right place when I attempted to stick his name to his milk because, you see, the sellotape is supposed to go THIS way around, not THAT way around (inherited my OCD tendencies I fear)! So all is good, but I'm all twitchy and antsy...maybe it's because, after 15 months, I'm "due on" . Yes, I'm feeling the usual aching in my back that hails the arrival of the "painter and decorator's". Better book my ticket to planet hormone and warn the sig. other ( but if he DARES to ask if I'm due on, he's a gonner!).

I think it was after I'd had s#1 that I started to really feel the impact of PMT. I'd never, really experienced fully that aching, draining feeling: to be honest, I thought women who had to have time off work, days under the duvet with a hot water bottle...well, I thought they were fussing a bit too much. HA!!! Who's laughing now! Over the past few years, I 've had sickness, headaches, bloating, mood swings, anaemia...you name it really. Ohhh, I understand now. I understand perfectly! So, I've decided on a preemptive strike. Painkillers are out (still breastfeeding) and paracetamol doesn't touch the sides; I guess,what with suffering with migraines, my body seems to only respond to the strongest pain killers I can shovel down. I have some Evening Primrose and Agnus Castus but, again, I have the breastfeeding thing to consider. Sooooo, when consulting with Dr Google (and I swore I wouldn't use him again!), I discovered Marmite being touted as a remedy. I won't post the link because I found the article online in The Sun, I'm no snob but the top "health" stories featured next to it were concerning Kelly and how sex keeps her slim and, ahem, men's "bits". I've got PMT...I DON'T WANNA KNOW ABOUT BIT AND BOBS AND HOW'S YOUR FATHER!!!!! Anyhow, further research tells me, that it's something to do with B vitamins ...not sure what (another PMT delight; lack of concentration) but I love Marmite on toast and it's lunch time so, well, it all adds up rather nicely really.

Before I finish, I would like to implore anyone who reads this to suggest any remedies. they may know of..all advice greatly received. To those who have so kindly given me awards...I'm not ignoring them, I will be getting them posted soon and thank you so much!! :)

Grace in Small Things 6 - 10

#6 Re-visiting favourite childhood reads.
#7 Pudding and chips.
#8 Lovely mown grass.
#9 A happy tea time table.
#10 Being "the best mummy in the world EVER"

RIP my favourite jeans

I've been wandering around all day singing Hole In My Shoe; remember that song? Neil from The Young Ones did a cover of it a couple of erm...decades ago (?!) Anyway, instead of singing the "hole in my shoe" bit I sang, with some gusto, "hole in my jeans" (HA! You see what I did there? 'Cos I'm witty I am!). Notwithstanding the fact that d#1 kept rebuking me because "your jeans can't let in water and, anyway, 'knew' and 'jeans' don't rhyme like 'knew' and 'shoe' do mummy, so sort it out!" (OMG this is getting long winded...you just have to listen to the song to understand and this post is really not about the song - forgive me!).

ANYWAY, I have been resolutely singing my little dirge all day because readers....guess what??!!! You never will so I'll tell yer...THERE'S A HOLE, in my JEANS!!! My favourite jeans have developed a hole. It's not wholly (ha, ha geddit? I did warn you about my sharp wit) unexpected. In truth, I've been observing it's progress over a number of weeks; BUT , my comfy jeans, my favourite jeans!? What I'm I going to wear now??!! They're not particularly trendy (my thighs will not accommodate jeans of the "skinny" variety). They weren't expensive; about tuppence ha'penny in the sale at GAP, they weren't even my favourite until recently but they are now and I don't want them to die!!! I guess, even though they aren't "cutting edge", they definitely fall into the archetypal "throw them on in the morning, goes with anything, never dates" category. Plus, they're flattering and my post natal belly needs all the flattering it can get! So, now I must stalk the GAP shop until I find the exact same jeans or transfer my affections to one of my other 5 pairs of jeans.

RIP wholly jeans. Tell me about your favourite jeans; help me the smile again..


PS Here's Hole In My Shoe, just in case you're desperate to know what I was wittering on about

Grace in Small Things 1 - 5

#1The sound of my favourite tree.
#2Finishing a job.
#3Much needed cuddles.
#4The family together for a long weekend.
#5Country pubs.

To work or not to work...that is the question?

I must admit, going back to work; albeit for only 2 days a week has been a huge shock to the system. The first week I was soooo tired I crawled to bed on the Friday (actually I think "fell asleep on the carpet" was more to the point). The following week the exhaust fell off my car; a mad dash to get it fixed ended in me having to accept a lift off the my head (which was fine BUT...WHAT you gonna talk about!!!?? It was OK in the end). Week three saw me getting a bit "tipsy" on Wednesday evening; note to self; NEVER, never get "tipsy" or roaring drunk on a school night, you can't ring in sick when you only work two days and, so I found out, 25 hyper year 1's and hangover aren't the best combination.

So that's what I've been doing but it's all OK ; teaching is like riding a bike...it all comes flooding back; although, I have noticed that I address everyone as if they were a 6 year old at the moment...and that really won't do will it? Would you like me to tie those shoe laces for you?