Thursday, 26 February 2009

The Mystery of the Broken Camera

Two things. Maybe three. Four. No more than four, honest.

1. I broke my camera. Noooooooooooooo. I need my camera. Actually I didn't break it but someone did... <peers suspiciously at The Babe>.

alex-saxon-092. Thing Two made a fabulous Viking, and I made her a fabulous costume, even if I do say so myself. Here's a pic from broken camera. Ignore halo effect. Broken camera lens. Sniffle.





3. I'm blaming The Babe since I attempted to take photos of her handiwork yesterday, when she had found a permanent marker. Permanent. Marker. Permanent. Can I just say face, arms, clothes, floor, and leave the rest to your imagination? And yet the photographic evidence is mysteriously absent, since.. you know. Broken camera and all that.

4. I know I had something to say, but everything has just been wiped from my mind with the tragedy of the broken camera. I'll probably come by again later with a "oh, forgot to tell you this!" post. See you then!

PS Did I mention my camera is kaput?

Wednesday, 25 February 2009


I decided to give up sex, but Himself decided that he would become Pagan and wouldn't have to observe Lent if I tried that.

Thing One thought I should give up MSN, but I tried that and within 5 minutes I was shaking, snappy and panic-stricken. I craved adult conversation, I needed to talk with someone intelligent and sophisticated. So I signed in and substituted intelligent and sophisticated with Posh and Ally which helped a bit...

Actually I do know what I am giving up - I'm giving up pancakes! After last year's feeding frenzy, I got clever this year and actually cooked the pancakes and put them in the oven to stay warm so that I would get a pancake or two to myself. I also made the girls some dinner beforehand rather than just eating pancakes for tea, so I thought I wouldn't have to make 30-odd pancakes. Clever me, you know. Instead I made 24. Sigh.

(Tell me, by the way - do YOU have to make shaped pancakes? I made individual letters, animals, and people. Why do I do this?? I have no idea.)

Thing One is giving up spending money (no idea how she thinks she'll be going swimming tomorrow without paying to get in...) She is saving to go to Spain next term (damn but school trips are way cooler now than they used to be)*.

Thing Two is giving up... making decisions. Ask her what she is giving up, go on, I dare you. "I DON'T KNOW!!!" she cries, fed up with being asked.

Thing Three, aka The Babe, should give up Peppa Pig and Barney just because I am so sick of them. Please. A blanket forty day ban on Cbeebies, Disney, Nick Jr and Cartoonito sounds idyllic to me.

What are YOU giving up?

(*Do you think I ought to give up using parentheses and footnotes?)

Tuesday, 24 February 2009

Catch up!

Poke... poke... are you there? Poke. Sorry, were you sleeping? I was busy, I didn't forget you or nothing.

'Twas half term. I have no idea why children can't go to school year-round. Thing One went to Geek Camp, and came home so muddy that I had to actually throw away half of her suitcase. She enjoyed it so much she wants to go again. Big change from the morning she left when she cuddled up and didn't want to go... She was so full of "abseiling, quad biking, climbing, night hiking" and a whole bunch of other stuff that I had to nap just after listening to her.

My mother planned a visit to coincide with Thing One's arrival home, which was nice. Except she couldn't find her tickets to tell me when she was arriving... and her text failed to arrive to tell me when to collect her.. and she ended up getting a cab from the station. Great. Guilt induced apologies queue up in my mouth - except it was her fault so why do I feel bad?? She arrived at my door, with a grin - I brought you a surprise she declares - and my sister and my nieces poke their heads around the corner. Yay! And all day I suddenly came out with "so that is why you couldn't find your ticket, didn't text me to collect you from the train...". Because I'm just that quick.

We also met up with Posh before school re-started, who decided she didn't like my boots. Well there must be some reason she decided to walk the soles off them! Everything we wanted to do was "oh, that's just across town". We arrived and mooched, but the shops we wanted were "just across town". The restaurant she wanted was "just across town". The park for the children to play in was... you get the idea. I walked past a certain beloved bookstore SIX times - and I didn't go in once, aren't you proud of me?? I think next time I shall bring roller skates.

So now you're up to date with me. How have you been? Did you get that nasty wart looked at? Hold on while I find a comfy chair and you can tell me all about it...

Sunday, 15 February 2009


Good Morning!!! Happy Sunday! It is.. checks clock... 05.48 exactly. GMT of course. None of the namby pamby BST here yet. I have been up for exactly 2 hours. Hurrah for me! I am a bit punch drunk I think, so am coming to share my hilarity with you.

Of course, now I actually turned the computer on, all my one liners have drained away. All the clever and witty little bon mots I had composed in my head? Gone. Must have been .. words... gone... bugger.

I'm hungry.

Oh! Guess what I had! Malt loaf, yummy. On Friday I think. I blame Posh and Ally for all my bad food choices, by the way. If they hadn't continually tempted me all week I should have been wiser. If I take up an ENTIRE hot tub all my lonesome it'll be their fault.

Oh! Her majesty calls. One sec.

Oh. Yeah. I'm not up with insomnia. Hell no. I could sleep on a washing line today. Tonight? Whatever. No, The Babe is poorly. She's been a bit funny all week and finally tonight (this morning??) her fever came out. She's 38.1 after appropriate cooling measures. She can't sleep so I'm up. In exactly 4 minutes I can wake Himself up, the night shift will officially be over. Hurray. (It's 05.57 now. No I didn't take that long to type (Heh, I just typed "typeo". Heh.) I'm entertaining Madam too.


Counting down to 6am when I can wake him.

Wonder what time McDonalds does breakfast?

Come ON clock.


Shall I gently call him? Or jump on the bed with the lights on, screeching like a baboon? You KNOW which I'm going to do don't you???

Yay. 6.00. Night night xxx

PS. This was copied from an email, because I am so tired (and lazy). The babe's fever broke and she is much better now.

PPS We had pizza for dinner. Far to tired to cook. Blame Posh and Ally for me choosing pizza too.

Thursday, 12 February 2009

Bossy Britches

I'm getting slightly fed up by the constant fighting of my children.

"I'm sitting there!"
"I'm sitting there. MOVE!"
"Hurrumph... Muuuum."

Oh, for Goodness' sake. Babe, STOP PICKING ON YOUR SISTERS. Now the little madam has the prime seat in the house and the older two are sitting on the floor. There is something not quite right here...


She's also eating a Danish pastry bigger than her face.

Oh! And this morning decided her name was Rhubarb and she wouldn't answer to anything else. I was Orange. And she got stroppy when I didn't reply. So the school run was fun this morning - "Rhubarb, hold Orange's hand darling!"

I think we did something wrong. She's turning into a proper Bossy Britches. And Himself promised me it would be Third Time Lucky and we'd get a nice kid this time around. Sigh.

Wednesday, 11 February 2009

Hide and Seek

With a twist... The children have turned out all the lights (and yes, I am typing by the ambient glow from my screen. Aren't you impressed??). They each have a torch. They are taking turns to find a place to hide in the dark and to seek with a torch. It appears to be fun, in the screechy way that girls have.

However, The Babe doesn't quite get it. She stands in the middle of the room and stuffs the lit torch down her top - what? It's dark. You can't see me.... Failing that, all you have to do is say "Where are you...?" and she pops up - "I here!".

Her turn to seek is fun too. I take her away and we count...
One... wun.
Two.... too.
Three... I go find now?
Not yet. Three... feee.
Four... For, I coming!"
Not yet sweetie. Five... Ready not, come!

OK, fine, go.

(Oops. Interrupted there when Himself walked in, hitting the child who was hiding by the front door. He thinks we had a power cut. With me sitting by the ambient computer screen. Power cut.)

The Babe runs wildly, waving her torch into each and every corner. Ceiling corner. If they were hanging like bats she'd have them every time. The idea of shining the torch down? Not filtering through yet.

It's a good job the Things and their friends are tolerant!

Sunday, 8 February 2009


Please tell me why... just look at this picture. Every time. Every bloody time.

WHY can't I open the red food colouring without spilling it on myself??

In other news, this was just so cute that you have to share it with me. You can't see but Wendy and Peter Pan both have their own plates and cups too. Ah, bless.


Saturday, 7 February 2009

What the HELL???

Whoever heard of having a temper tantrum in your sleep?? What kind of toddler throws a temper tantrum while snoring? I'll tell you - MINE!

Silly o'clock this morning. Perfect darkness. Perfect silence. Perfect snuggle down and snooze in bed time. Then came the sound that echoed around... (bonus points if you get that reference)..... a thwack as a dummy hit the wall and a disgruntled chuffing and huffing.

OK. She dropped her dummy. No problem, just go in and pop it back in her mouth, done, back to sleep. Stumble to her side. Tried to give her dummy back, and hear "No, I don't want no dummy." I drew back in shock (because dude... poster child for future orthodonistry here, with dummy in permanent residence in mouth, one in each hand, one by her cheek, and others hidden at strategic points around the place just in case her mean mother ever swipes her dummies and throws them away). I drew back and she screams "MY DUMMY". Oh right. Lean forward. "NO dummy!!!" Sway a bit in tiredness prompting hysterical "Mine.. no.... mine... no.. arrgghhhhh".

Turn a light on to deal with stroppy toddler which is when I realise. Her eyes are closed. Her brows are furrowed but she is snoring between words. Bizarre!

We're used to her talking in her sleep. We ask her questions like who do you love most. She complains... "I'm cold" and imagines... "Play me Sis" and laughs and whinges. But this? This was a first.

I dealt with it the same way I deal with all tantrums. By pointing and jeering. I turned the light off and ignored her. I got back in bed and snuggled down, soothed to sleep by the lullaby echoing "Mine! No! Mine! No!....

Thursday, 5 February 2009

Gadget King

What is it with men and gadgets?? Last night Himself started burbling about some insanely wonderful kettle that can boil water in three seconds. I have no idea why. Posh did force me to ask him why he wanted such a kettle - I begged her not to make me, because "it'll turn into some 10 minute discussion on pros and cons and blah snore zzzzz" but she persisted. Sigh. 

All I heard was: "At work.. blah... too much time in tea room... blah blah.. more productive... " and then I stopped listening. In fact I had to hold my breath in case he took an inhale as a sign of excited interest and continued talking. 

I know perfectly well that he was the one who wanted to play with the e-Reader he bought me for Christmas, and he's always the first to break the seal on any new 'phone we get. He won't read the instructions, oh no. He'll just press the buttons, because.. well.. he's a man. He just knows, doesn't he? (I thought it was hilarious when the Sky TV installer literally begged him to at least read the Quick Guide because for some reason if he installs when a man is home he invariably gets called back within days to fix things). (No, of course Himself didn't read the Quick Guide). Any new gadget going and Himself has to be there, he has to have one. He's worse than any kid.

Actually I can cope with him buying gadgets. It's using the blessed things that gets me. Why do you use the sat nav? It's invariably wrong, when it is right you ignore it and it has a really annoying voice. All of them. Just pull over and ask directions for God's sake. We're lost and I need to pee. (I do quite fancy being the voice for a Sat Nav actually. "Turn right. I said right. Why didn't you listen! Now you're lost, you plonker, and I'll have to fix it...". Much better than "In 100 yards, take the exit". Blah boring.)

I also can't cope with storing them. For example. We have a case full of an SLR camera with a hundred different lenses and assorted accessories that I'm not allowed to throw away. It is heavy, clunky, uses a film that probably isn't even made anymore and even the Smithsonian wouldn't be interested in it. But it is his and it was cool once and does he complain about the 3000 books piled in the cupboard where rational people keep food? Whatever. Keep the damn camera. Can I throw away the Commodore 64 at least? Hell no. That's a classic, it could be worth something one day. The 15 motherboards and other weird green bumpy things? No. Gerrof.

The spinoff of the gadget obsession is that he extends it to everyone else. For example. I have a breadmaker. A doughnut maker. An ice-cream maker. A steamer. If it comes with a plug, I have it. I don't want it. I could do with the cupboard space to put my tinned food (pantry full of books). Please don't buy me anymore.

However, he told me to ask so... does anyone have one of those 3 second kettles, and if so what do you think?

If anyone answers that question in any positive way I swear I will un-friend you.