Friday, 29 April 2011

Introducing: Super Amazing Mum and Manic Mum's 'Peeping Tom' meme!

Well hello everyone! Right, it is spring, and along with the lambs a leaping and the (b*st*rd) birds at 4am a tweeting, SuperAmazingMum and I are about to spring a new idea on you all too. We have had to go in on this one together, pool the effort, as our brain/inspirations/effort/will to live are rather depleted with 7 kids between us, at an all time low, you may say. But we say HA! Watch us work some magic together...Anyway, here is how it works (we're keeping it brief like my husband's undies, he'll kill me when he reads that!)

We are asking you to write your real life true love story you have the next 2 weeks to do it-the linky will be open for 2 weeks.
*Here’s the ‘meme’ name, and the instructions-so get your marigolds on, (or don’t, totally your choice) and get typing, include a picci if you can, so we can all see your beautiful faces.
* The meme name is ‘Peeping Tom’
* Cut and paste the html for the badge onto your blog, or copy the badge picture, and do it that way if you prefer. 

Badge code: 

<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="" width="200" /></a></div>

* Link up to the linky thing below, so we all get to read it, and obviously write your very own true love, real life story.
* Then write either or a 'comment' on this blog, to let us know you've joined in,
* OR you can 'twitter' us @superamazingmum, @manicmum4 to let us know.

This is all very new, and we are 'going with it' to see where you/it takes us...

We are already just too excited to read this first one we are giving you the title for 'my real life, true-love story' you can see mine @ , and don't forget to watch out for Superamazingmum's on the 1st May (she's holding out for her anniversary!!).

There you go, that's it- now it's down to you guys, may the force be with you...!

See you all soon,

Love SAM and Manic mum. xxx

This is a link for the 'linky' thing, but we are having a few technical problems sorting it out! If you click on it, it should send you through to the link...let us know if there's any probs...

Thursday, 28 April 2011

Better out than in?

The 'Balrog' AKA my gay dog. love him! see what i mean about the eyes?
I have just got back inside, after spending a good five minutes pulling out the ‘eye bogeys’ (sleep/crust… let’s face it, it all sounds rank, however you put it) out of my hairy gay dog’s eyes. This is a necessity, obviously as I do not do it for sport or self amusement, only that my dog has such long hair (he’s a bearded collie FYI) that all kinds get wedged in him/cling to him/stuck on him…little insects going about their business, heaving around their treasures, only to have my dog gaily sweep by them and collect them up in his fur. Poor unsuspecting bugs. I have since washed my hands, I may add, as I saw some worried faces and brains ticking over going ‘eeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwww, she pulls eye bogeys out her dogs eye hair, and then types away spreading doggy-eye-bogey-diseases all over her keyboard, rough’. He is a complete fool of an animal (although an adorable one) and runs around endlessly afterwards as if he is saying ‘look at MEEEEEE!! I can SSEEEEEEEE!!’, he is still doing it as we speak. Alright, you’re not speaking, it’s me, talking to myself, again.

This was probably one of the nicer things I have done today too…Today went from clearing up a bit (the weather, it’s been grey and drizzly for days) so a bit of cloud clearance, and rain stoppage sent us outside on a ‘wearing out hypo kids and gay dog’ mission. We bundle into the chicken hoof scratched car and as usual are gassed with the stale cat p**s smell still lingering in there from when my cat bumble got ran over and thus whisked down to the vets on Monty’s knee. He thereupon wees on my son’s leg out of sheer terror. The smell has never gone. Unfortunate, for reasons too obvious to spell out. Anyway, we are OUT and on our lil’ way. The woods down the road from us are our port of call. We leap out (we’re a very ‘gleeful’ family, always leaping and bundling and venturing out…What’s the expression? Better out than in? Well that’s us. I reckon we are definitely better out than in. As anyone, I am sure, would vouch for). The walk we are completely unprepared for, we are in some cases sporting ‘pumps’ one is wellied up, but that does not prevent the shoe brigade from joining in the jumping in muddy puddles and getting mud EVERYWHERE. Monty slips over, face and everything covered in stinky slimy mud. It is true that boys are made from slugs and snails and puppy dog’s tails, hang on a minute, I was expecting ‘mud’ to come up in that too, but it doesn’t. Why ever not? I shall email the dude/dudette that made up that rhyme and request they add this word, as I need it to make the comparison with my eldest daughter Lola’s reaction, who when she got mud all up her shin and inner thigh, we all had to wait for  a good 10 minutes, whilst she dedicatedly spat on leaves and tried to clean herself.
un, deux, troi...WEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

The cynicism in France was Alex and my hot topic of conversation as I have a bath tonight. Naked politics-you should try it! Sorry if I have just scared all my viewers with worse than rank mentally disturbing images. It seems that every time I tell someone in France something/anything, I am always met with a cynical expression, and then victim to advice from Madame Pearls of Wisdom. Oooo, you’re going to do that? Oh, I wouldn’t if I were you…if I were you I would certainly not do it that way…’ and other such wise encouragements. It’s as if I have just told them outside the school gates that I planned to sport giant suckers on my hands and thereby enabling myself to vacuum my body to the school wall, then proceed to suction my way by careful desuction, re-vacuuming technique, up the school wall, mounting triumphantly the school roof, and hoy myself off, hurling myself into the school playground with a ‘go gadget go’ helicopter hat made earlier by my 4 kids with the craft aids of sticky back plastic and toilet rolls. Not gonna work, so their advice would therefore be both relevant and understandable. But I am not, so their advice is rubbish, and born out of a need to throw obstacles in my already obstacled up chosen life path…

Right, it’s late, and I am trying to get over my rather bouffant newly cut hair, which I decided to take a leaf out of toddler’s book and join in self-hair cutting. I am now sporting a rather large fringe, which as it stares at me in the face right here, right now, feels like a big fat flapping bigly fringed mistake! You may be the judges-
OK, so the no make up look does me no particular favours- and then there's THAT FRINGE!!

Tamsyn x

Wednesday, 27 April 2011

My Interview...yes, I am now that famous (!!!!!)

Today I have been ‘tagged’. Yes it’s that time again. Thank you so very much to Bod for Tea  ( who actually likes my blog! (BTW your cheque’s in the post). Please click on her link and check this very very lovely lady out. But for now, and without further ado, I have an interview ahead of me-so here it is:

If you could go back in time to relive one moment, what would it be?

Relive one moment-hmmmm this has got me. Stumped at the first hurdle. I’ll make an effort, hang on. *Erhem* The moment in my life that I would love to relive is my wedding day and, although not the actual birth, but the first seconds afterwards when you have your new teeny baby on your chest, and they grip your finger in the most needy and dependent way you could ever imagine-the responsibility, the overwhelming pride (and terror!) that you have finally got your baby there. Those moments I would love to relive. My wedding day has been one of the most intensely emotional moments. When I looked into my soulmate’s eyes and swore to be his forever, I would love to experience this again too.

If you could go back in time and change one thing, what would it be?

Whatever happens in life, the good and the bad, it makes us who we are today. It makes us grow and forces us to re-evaluate the world and our judgements of others, without our past situations/events, we would not be who we are today. I am not saying I wouldn’t change myself (!) but I am saying that I would not change anything in my past, as it has made me who I am today, the mother, the wife, the sister/daughter/aunty/sister-in-law/cousin/friend/worst enemy (?)-not that I am arguably any good at any of these, but I am me, and without my past, I would not be. So in one word, nothing.

What movie or TV character do you think you resemble most in personality?
it's the loveheart cap, the butcher waving me off, and the flying pigeon following me that does it...

Long distance Clara-from Pigeon Street, who was a long-distance truck driver and probably still is, who always used to sing as she drove (as I remember it, maybe it’s an incorrect memory and I have made a fool out of myself). School is too far to walk, and I am obliged to take the car, so I often sing ‘long distance claraaaa’ (I do however have a large Tamsyn-remix, I am not soley restricted to pigeon street lyrics) which is all the lyrics I can remember oh, and the ‘coo coo’ of a pigeon at the end. I have a big 7-seater, and feel all misplaced, as I am a tiny little woman in this mahoosive car. Please ‘youtube’ Pigeon Street if you are completely lost.

Which TV or movie character would you like to be?

Monster, off the Muppits. He rules. He is who he is, a pink, drum playing monster, and he bangs things (musical instruments I hasten to add) hard. He rocks, and you can't mess with him...

If you could push one person in the whole world off a cliff and get away with it, who would it be?

That’s straight up murder, I am not that into that…but if you forced me, it’d probably be, oh actually can it be two? Tag team it?  The Consultant who (when I had not yet been diagnosed with streptocoque-B in my first pregnancy, but which caused months and months worth of health issues for me as a consequence), when pregnant with my son, told me to ‘go home and have a warm glass of milk and a lie down’ to ‘calm myself down’ as this was the 4th consultation I had had, and I was in agony and hysterical at this point, as I was being fobbed off as a neurotic first time mother, when I knew it was not right-and it wasn’t. Arrogant bastard.  The second, I am on a roll! Would be the gynaecologist I saw on a monthly basis, as you are obliged to in France. You have monthly ‘internals’. It was just wrong, when you saw the size of his hands too, like the Big Green Giant with swollenitis-not right. In fact, he and his brother were gynaecologists working together-it all gets ‘wronger’ and ‘wronger’.

Name one habit you want to change in yourself.

Mop-a-holism. If people come over and leave even say at 2 in the morning-I will then actually mop. It is that bad. A midnight mopper. Scary obsessive.

Describe yourself in one word.

All or nothing. I realise this is 2 words, however this was a hard one, but when my list of options was: donkey-lover, chicken-killer, mopaholic, neurotic, cleaning OCD’d up, chocoholic, fish-wife, wally, bigly-forearmed, you can see what I was up against…

Describe the person who named you in this MEME in one word.

Fandabidozy! Seriously, she rocks.

Why do you blog? Answer in one sentence.

Well, it gets me out of the dark corner shaking and rocking…It’s a way to ‘centre’ myself. When I am actually capable of will-killing my own livestock, I need some way of ‘regrouping’ at the end of the day, and my fairly haphazard life-style I document for my kids to read in years to come, and it helps me see the ‘funny’ side…!. 

Name at least 3 people or more to send this MEME, and then inform them.




Sorry ladies, it’s your turn now. No offense if you never get round to it!!! X

Tuesday, 26 April 2011

busy chooks...boc boc booooooooooooooc

I am not being funny, and OK, this may be THE most eye-wateringly boring blog you have ever read-but how often have you ever seen 6 eggs in one basket (never, cos y'all don't really give a s**t, fair enough), all laid by 3 (now down to 3 due to an unfortunate powerful accidental mind killed chook, 'will-killed' chicken) chickens this morning. Well, in my house this is the most exciting thing that has happened to us in a long while...I may write to Blue Peter...does that still run?

Monday, 25 April 2011

Just a big fat ‘lacker’ of a mother!

possibly the worst pic ever of me and my boy, but it'll do (we don't look like that in real life...!!!)
We have had a wonderful Easter weekend. We went for the day up to see friends 45 minutes from us. We were fed like ducks intended for foie gras (not that we were forced, it was all voluntary!) and the treasure hunt went without a hitch, despite my rubbish clues sometimes becoming a little lost: “You open me in the morning, and shut me at night, I am a …what?” We had various suggestions from ‘cupboard’ to ‘eyes’ to ‘clothes’ (?), to ‘beds’, the answer was supposed to be ‘curtains’ FYI, and we got there in the end. But the kids had fun, and stuffed themselves with chocolate. In fact Lola, my ‘isn’t she calm and mature and smiley and oh so lovely’ angel of a child (yes, I have a child I can take out in public-well one out of four isn’t a bad ratio!) had some kind of weird takeover. After consuming those sweets pretending not to be sweets (you know, those bits of fruit that are extortionately expensive, professing to be ‘better for you’ as the are made from real fruit juice, don’t fall for it, I’ve never seen anything like what happened to my daughter after their consumption). As it’s Easter, and as they are never allowed more than 2 or 3 sweets at a time, I let them eat till they wanted to stop, or were sick, just for laughs…and oh how I wish I hadn’t, and oh how I see now the evidence in front of me of why they are never allowed more than 2 or 3 at any one time. The evidence being this beautiful angel child before me with eyes like Frisbees, making funny faces, talking like she’s got some kind of verbal disease, frantically trying to get anyone and everyone (she’s not in a state to be picky) to pay her attention as she sings and dances crazily. My word. These sweets are kiddie cocaine in disguise. It has to be stopped, at once, by me. DON’T BUY YOUR KIDS SWEETS EVER!! (Did that stop you? Great, then my work here is done). Quite frankly, at the end of the day, when all said and done, when the monkey’s landed and the flumps are going to weightwatchers, it’s just not normal.

We’ve played lots indoors, as unlike you in England, we have not had nice weather, it’s rained again the past 4 days. I wait at the café, to be fed watered down fizzy water soup, served with water coffee with salt and sugar and cornflakes, a plastic burger, crisps, peas and a slice of pizza to accompany it. Thankfully I was not in a real café, to be fair, I’d have sent that back before you could say ‘what’s this F*****G pile of s**t you have served me up here?’ I endure the meal, and pay my daughters in paper and stones. All it was worth! Sorry girls, if you ever read this, I had such fun, and the food was 5 star quality really! Your resources were limited, I understand. Needs must. I have done the same myself, fed you burnt porridge once, insisted you ate it up despite the retching and the pleas, deciding to try it,, as your fuss was a little more believable than normal, where upon I  vomit on the spot, and I finally ‘make it stop’ and take ‘pity please mummy’. Poor sods, who knows how they’re gonna turn out?!

how do I look, mum?
Esmie has been wandering around all day with a purple nose and cheeks and eyes, she had been at it again, self decorating. I wouldn’t mind so much if these events were infrequent. They are, however, not. And I have to parade round my, whether it be, self-decorated/self-hair cutted/self nail varnished everywhere/self-unremoveable-black-treacle-painted, all too often to give the impression that this mother of four has not ‘lost’ it, got to the point of complete neglect and lacking, just a big fat ‘lacker’ of a mother! She honestly has ‘such a character’ though. As I am told, not that I need to be reminded of this, I gave birth to her! She loves to play with Mitzi, the little two are thick as thieves, as are the big two, so it’s all even stevens in the house (who made up that crap expression anyway? Even stevens…? As if you say that?! Unless your called my Dad, sorry Dad, but you even have a head torch…! Love you really, best get that in! It must have been Steven. Sorry Steven, it’s a great saying, I wish I could rhyme my name with something cool like that, introduce a new ‘saying’ but  nothing rhymes, I have just realized, after having just paused in front of the computer going ‘gramsyn tamsyn, nope, that means nothing,, not going anywhere with that one either, lamsyn…now this is just getting stupid…maybe I’ll change my name, make it easier for myself). But although Esmie gets on so well with them all, she is absolutely her own little person too. She is heard, and she makes sure of that. At bedtime tonight I go up to ‘TUCK ME IN MUMMY, NOW!!’ After she has stopped the ‘bad’ behaviour, and shut up, in my defense, I do certainly not, encourage her teenage-toddler antics. I offer her a few cuddly things to cuddle, all of which are rejected with straight up, blunt ‘no, don’t want it’ s and all the offers are exhausted, whereupon she takes it upon herself to climb down to the bottom of the bed, has a little rummage, and pulls out a slipper and a sock, looks at me in a big huffy way informs me she is going to ‘cuggly’ these tonight. Where’s the lurve??

Carte blanche on the chocolate at friends' House...the calm before the storm...

I am now off to down some hits of gaviscon, I have eaten it UP this weekend, although as I commented on facebook, Easter without cadburys; is like ‘lift the flaps books’ without the flaps-nowhere near as much fun! I hope you have a great bank holiday Monday, and here’s to the shots of gaviscon working it’s magical white hand, and the next week being one where I am not left with the will to rip my own arm off, just so I can laugh about something, or behave in public places like Kevin and Perry on glue…!

Ps. And no ‘will-killing’ animals either…

Sunday, 24 April 2011

Silent Sunday

In the field at the bottom of our garden...(2yrs ago)