Thursday, 5 May 2011

Too deep and flappy.


I am speed typing again today, as I want to get outside-I plan to plant myself in the garden with a pot of Russian caravan tea and honey, and see what grows. Well, OK, I’ll be a drinkin it, and in fact, I plan to be folding my piles and piles and piles of self-generating laundry in the same manner I tried waxing my legs with for the first time the other day (which by the way is just self-harm, glorified self harm, and as for those who opt for a Brazilian-WTF is that all about?) with gusto, anyway, is the word I was getting to, and whilst Esmie has a nap-she slept practically not at all last night…*grabs at coffee, misses as bags under eyes too deep and flappy, spills it on floor*

mmmmmmmmmm CUP OF TEA

After school the other day on the drive home, 2 young boys sprint out in front of the car, I am forced to break, I do not drive like a plonker, I am careful, it’s too much responsibility, 4 kids in the car and usually the dog too, but it means breaking was not a complete emergency stop, like in your lessons when you’re little (younger, I should say, really showing my age there!) and the driver instructor WHACKS the dashboard to indicate you have to emergency stop. And it’s all very disturbing. Mine used to pre-empt it with ‘and there’s an old lady in front of you’ WHACK ‘aaaaaaand….STOP!’ Or other such obstacles that you must never hit. Then I dutifully ‘de-clutch’ and ‘break’ in sync and most times succeeded in running down imaginary old women crossing the road, b******s…But there you go. This time however, I stop, pull over, get out the car and chase after the boys. Puffing, red in the face (as I am when I’m angry) yelling after them, looking like some maniacal mental patient that had been ‘let out’ into the community for the day…I lost it with them. Well, wouldn’t you? So bloody dangerous, my kids looked on in horror, my son was hoping they were not kids from his school! But I didn’t care, I imagine I had no impact, my English accent when I speak will always stay with me, and I guess this is amusing to some…well, you know what? You just say it back to me in English then…I am that clever with my insults.

that's it...nearly there love, just a li'l bit further 'creak, creak'...

Something did happen to me though this week, a very big random coincidence, that I was so happy about. A year or so ago I gave someone every last baby thing I possessed, clothes, beds/highchairs/poushchair, (a typo, but it looks posher, so I’m leaving it) you name it, I gave it away. For 2 reasons, one, I hate clutter (messy house, er, messy head?) anyway, and two, this person needed stuff for her new born, so I much prefer giving stuff to a good home, than it going to waste. Months later, I started to regret the fact that I had not even kept one pair of booties or any little keepsake (clothing wise I mean, I have other mementos) from the girls. But I’d done it, so there you go-worse things happen at sea. I went to the Brocante (the French equivalent of a second hand shop) and had a wander round, in the clothes section there was a basket, a basket with 6 pairs of baby girl shoes in, the 6 pairs of baby girl shoes I had given this girl. The 6 pairs that were initially Lola’s in fact; still in perfect condition. I picked up my favourite pair, and bought them back for 1€ as a keep sake!! Can you believe it? I have now mislaid them in the house somewhere, but they’ll show up!

Now I really do have to get on, I have to try and source some bigger than baby stick insects for my son. We had an unfortunate turn of events back in the half term holidays. Monty volunteered to take home the baby stick insect pets from school. He killed them on entry. He created a very glamorous water park for them, and it turns out, they don’t like sliding down toilet tube water slides into yoghurt pot swimming pools, they die. And then if you place a tiny towel on the one surviving one to dry him off, he’ll die too, from towel rubbing squishy death. Anyway, to cut a long one short, I though we’d got away with it, when the other day after school there’s a note to say they’re all bringing the stick insects back into school for observations and growth and development updates (a few kids had brought them home). Well, there ain’t been no growing or developing here love, just squishy deaths I’m afraid. So I am going to have to source some now, they’ll never know….mwahahahahahahah.

keep looking-he's in there!


Yey! Now I get to go outside! and get that sloshy noise in my tummy you get when you drink too much, tea, in this case, I see the doubts.

Tamsyn x

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