Sunday, 28 September 2008

Boobie Doll!

Or, how The Babe discovered Barbie. She is totally enamoured, but Himself isn't as happy. The Babe found a Barbie doll today, immediately stole all her clothes and spent several minutes staring in awe. Himself had to run an errand and took The Babe along, but she insisted on flashing her naked "boobie doll" at all and sundry until Himself was forced to flee in mortification. He's left "boobie doll" in the car, in a moment of distraction, but The Babe has spent all evening asking "Where boobie doll, Daddy?" so I fear the obsession is just beginning.

Which segues nicely into a theme I was planning on talking about yesterday, except Posh and Ally kept me chatting too late (on purpose, I think, in fear of being quoted). Ally started several conversations about sex the other day. Recreational sex, as opposed to procreational. Come on, you remember that, surely? Cast your mind back, before children. Lazy Sunday mornings and the desire to do other things apart from seek the oblivion of sleep in your bed. Before CAB sex became the norm (no, you perverts, not sex on the back seat of taxis! Christmas, Anniversaries and Birthdays!). (Actually I'm joking. I'm FAR too tired to even consider it at Christmas).

Posh decided to take it a step further and started to look at various toy sites. Several things were so weird that we were planning on asking some more experienced friends what on EARTH they were. Seriously. Lobster claws, I ask you. (Actually, I don't ask you. Please don't tell me. I know that I must have a somewhat deprived background but that is better than the depraved background of whoever came up with those torture devices). However, the site must be used to such novices as we are since Posh stumbled across - I kid you not! - instructional VIDEOS!

However, it wasn't the video that shocked us as much as the soundtrack. Hard-core opera! We were more engrossed in figuring out why on earth they chose opera than watching the video. To convince us that this was an intellectual highbrow venture rather than something rather seedy? It's not porn if we're playing opera?? Or a subliminal "you too can hit the high C with the right, uh, stimulation?" Well, I suppose all operas have a climactic moment...

(No, I'm not telling you which site! Go find it yourself). (Oh, alright. Sigh. It's the one that does that parties since that is the only one we could think of).

Friday, 19 September 2008

The Brightest Crayon

The Babe sat on my lap earlier, cocked her head to one side and batted her eyelashes. "Mummy, wuv oo." Awwww. "More, mummy?"

"You love me more?" My heart melts.

"NO!" Scorn drips. "More choclit, mummy, pwees?"

How can you have more when you haven't had any? Hurrumph. Yes, ok, you may have a chocolate button. She is delighted. She grabs her little duck and sits with it and the button. She brings the duck's beak to the button. She makes "nom nom" noises with her mouth.

Himself and I glow with pride. Our little baby, playing pretend at such a young age. "She's so clever" he beams "Takes after her dad!"

The Babe then tosses the chocolate over her shoulder and shoves the duck into her mouth. Yeah.

"She does indeed." I agree.

By the way, keeping in mind that the The Babe isn't yet two years old... Himself called "Bedtime, honey!". She came careering into the dining room where I type.

"Hide me, mummy, hide me!"

Seems to have inherited Thing One's drama queen tendencies and dramatic flair too...

Wednesday, 10 September 2008

Your life in six words!

You have got to be kidding.
Six words, describing my life now?
You want to limit my speech?
I have verbal diarrhoea, I can't!

Hmmm, I'll try, let's see then....
(Are contractions cheating, by the way??)

Mother, wife, sister, daughter, teacher, friend.

What a load of utter tripe.

Housework, laundry, cooking, driving, arguing, shouting.

Heh, slightly more me I think.
Which is very depressing, isn't it?

My heart now walks outside me.
I live in fear of everything.
I'm blessed to be a mum.

Bah humbug - sentimental and depressing, huh?
This is tougher than I thought.

Life is bittersweet, but I'm happy.

That'll have to do I guess.

Starting School, part deux

So remiss, I am. Slap my wrist, I should. Told you about Thing One's new school, I didn't! Why am I talking like Yoda? Freaky new grammar there.

Day One

jess-uniform She's quaking, although she's trying not to show it. No tears, just complete and utter fear. Me, not her. Spent all day nibbling my nails. Arrived to collect her 20 minutes early. Watched the gates erupt with black-blazered swarms at 3.15. Watched the hordes disperse. No Thing One. Butterflies in stomach multiplied. 3.25, texted her. No reply. 3.30, called her. No reply. Phone on silent, she's forgotten to switch the sound on after class. Images of abduction, bullying, and other horrors. 3.35, ready to storm the gates. 3.40, eye up the trees, gauging their use as battering rams. Wonder where to get an axe. Child comes flying out the gates. "Oh, hi mum." {Giggle} "I got lost and couldn't find my way out!" Time spent outside school: 45 minutes. Huh.

Day Two
Sent Himself to collect her, couldn't face sitting outside for hours again. She arrived back all smiles. "Hello hon, had a nice day? Who did you sit with at lunch?"
"Oh. Who did you hang out with at break?"
"Oh. What did you do?"
"Just walked around by myself."
Stomach swoops down. My baby has no friends! Damn stupid admission system sending all her friends to School B while she has to go to School A. My heart breaks, but I plaster a smile on. She's not fooled.

Day Three
She's going solo today, on the bus alone. I ask her 4 times if she has her bus fare. I almost ask her a 5th time, but she stares at me witheringly. "Oh, mum, don't forget I need colouring pencils for geography." What? First I'd heard of it. We have thousands of pencils at home, can't she just take some of those? No? Wants a new all matching set. Fine, whatever. "Oh, and a new swimming costume, my one is no good, I need a blue one." Fine, whatever.

She turns up at home at 3.50pm, first bus trip safely completed, a smug smile on her face.

Day Four
"Mum, don't forget I need high-lighters for history." What forget? You never told me! Fine, whatever. Don't forget your coat. "I won't!" And she flies out the door, coat-less. It rains cats and dogs all day. I call her at 3.20, 3,25, 3.28, 3.30, 3.34, 3.40 and 3.44 to see if she wants me to collect her since she has no coat. She never picks up her phone. What is the point of buying her a mobile if she keeps it on silent?? She arrives home, dripping wet, at 3.55. "Mum, I need an umbrella to keep in my locker." Fine, whatever. Take your damn coat to school next time.

Day Five
Getting into the swing of things now. She comes home absolutely caked in mud. What on earth? "Oh, it's from playing on the field with Jane and Sally at break. And can I switch to packed lunches since Jane brings one? Mary and I are entering the school inter-house competition! Can Sally come for tea? I sat with Jane during lessons and she is so funny, and Jane said.. and Sally.. Jane.. Mary... " My baby has friends! The relief. All is right with the world.

"Oh, mum, for Art I need paints and scissors and 2b pencils, and and and and..." Fine, whatever.

Tuesday, 9 September 2008

Is it just me?

It's morning. I roll over in bed and glare at the traitor snoozing beside me. I punch him hard in the arm.

"Oof! Whazzat? Huh?"

"You complete and utter GIT!"

"Wha'? Did you just HIT me?"

"You dirty SNEAK!"

"Oh god, not again..."

Sometimes my dreams are just really vivid. Sometimes they are about him and him cheating. Not that he ever has, but meh. Dreams. What can you do? I wake up with a surge of adrenalin and fury and narrow my eyes, and clench my fists, ready to give him what for.

He fends me off "How is it MY fault what happens in YOUR dreams?"

"Don't you try and turn this around, YOU were the one sneaking around!"

"In your DREAMS!"

"Hah! In YOURS!!"

Just another happy morning in the Aldee household.

Regardless of certain people's coyness on MSN last night (glances at Posh balefully), I can't be the only person in the world that does this. Can I?

Thursday, 4 September 2008

The Babe Wants a Word

The Babe is in Seventh Heaven. She had chocolate ice-cream for the first time tonight. Chocolate. AND ice-cream. IN THE SAME BOWL. Whoever thought of that combination must be a genius.


Himself was swiping cash from my purse earlier, and The Babe ran over in glee. PENNIES!! "Me have penny, dad, pees?"

"Why?" Says he "Where will you put it?"

Her brow furrowed. Her outstretched palm flexed. She looked at her palm and then back at him. "Um. In my HAND?" she said. Clearly he is a simpleton.

After the! worst! summer! in! history! ever!, I threw some shaving foam onto the dining room table for the Things to draw in. Not the brightest idea I've ever had. Still, the table came up lovely and clean afterwards. Shame the same can't be said for The Babe's hair.


This morning The Babe woke at silly o'clock, and my sleep-dazed um, considered decision was that she could just sleep next to me for the rest of the night. So I lay her in the middle and snuggled up. Suddenly she froze. Something had touched her foot. She struggled to sit up and see which interloper had invaded her space. Daddy! Outrageous. "Daddy, out! Move! You no there, you go work!"

Um. I think we had one too many lie-ins this summer, when she came in for a snuggle after he had got up for work...