Saturday, 14 May 2011

flashback, quick pic...

I have decided that inbetween blogs, I will put up a 'flashback, quick pic' a photo and caption, to fill in the blanks. And in my mind, there are many. So, here's the first of many more!!
A baby mitzi, photo was taken a few weeks after we moved to France, this is in our first House there. (She lost the baby chubble!!)

Friday, 13 May 2011

A woman would have done it already, with bells on.

Two summers ago...how it flies...

I have been trying to put this blog up, with full on bronchitis, horse sized antibiotics and my blogger thing being 'unavailable' all day. most frustrating, I have been in bed since 3pm (thanks hubby for holding the fort) and have got out of bed just this once to post up my blog...what dedication! mind you, probably won't be worth it now!


I ask Alex to grab me a cup of water as he went to the kitchen, he hands me a cup nearby, and I realise just as it touches my lips that it is the bath Lola had made for her plastic rabbit bath toy thingy. It’s luke warm soapy bath water that my daughter (littlest) weed in just to add to the flavour, and the sterility, although I hear wee is sterile, so that was potentially not the worst thing in there. Now with plastic toy in tow, I mention to Alex I would probably prefer a glass of fresh water. That is how my day ended yesterday, almost consuming wee, that and putting the small semi-psychotic herd of wart hogs to bed, end of day hoover/mop/tidy/stack dishwasher etcetera, etcetera (posh voice needed).





So Thursday morning, I am up with the sparrows, and on the right side of the bed! Wowsers, I really thought that was just a myth. But it turns out, it is possible to get up on the right side. Then I wake up, at the crack of sparrows, and it had all been a dream. There is no right side, and I, as every morning, bleary eyed and wishing I could just grab and extra 24 hours worth of sleep, and pretend the day I have got up for never existed, must continue on. Never gonna happen, sleeping through a whole day, unluckily for me I was not named Sleeping Beauty and until Monsieur Time-Machine sorts himself out and actually fulfils his family name, I’ll be weathering it out. Come on Time Machine man, a woman would have done it already, with bells on. Still, I persevere with the day, and press on like a donkey after a carrot. I had no idea how I was possibly going to fit in all I had to do, phone calls to make, Make-up lady to take to the shops, letters to write, translations to be done, places to collect things from, places to take things too, recycling to be done, tidying, cleaning, kids…you get it, right? Good, then I shan’t add the latter half of the list. Do you know what? I got almost all of it done, and even managed to polish the bin, who does that??! Have you ever polished your bin? No? Well, don’t, imagine the results: ‘Oooo I can even see my face in the bin, not to mention I could drink off my floor’ because you know what? I reckon no one is ever, ever going to mention that to dinner guests, like ever. Something weird came over me, and the polish frenzy whilst toddler slept took me over. But I really nearly did it! Oh well, better luck tomorrow. 

The Time Machine ... come on someone, fashion it...


Yesterday, as there’s no school here on Wednesdays as all regular readers know, but that I still have to state, in case there are newbies (poor sods), so I booked in to go on like a locally arranged garden walk thing. Being a mummy who would like to live 24/7 outdoors (better out than in, you see, just keeps it’s relevance), and also that I have ‘nature’ children (hmmmmm, WHACK across face with ‘nature’ leaf and twig handbag to posh bitch mum in St. Albans), the children share my outdoor enthusiasm. I had been sceptical; it was in public after all, with the 4 kids. But it was amazing. I was brimming with pride as my son asked nonstop questions about the flora and fauna, and tasted every leaf going (the edible ones I might add). He kept looking around ‘wowing’ at trees and getting his sisters to taste the plants (the daisy didn’t go down too well) and putting his hand up, bouncing round the Leader dude, what would their title be? Chief Garden Walker of Groups? Anyway, around him, asking questions and answering everything before the guy had finished (not always right, but nice effort!). It was such a wonderful walk, and such a success that I shall sign up for the next one! To the Wood-mobile to go to the shop to buy everyone crampons!



I did mention that I went to see make up lady, to take her to shops. In actual fact she reads cards, (clairvoyance, I think?) and without realising, as she was on the phone, I shuffle the cards and lay them out, and she read them for me (wasn’t planned, just happened, I thought I was just putting the cards out for her, as I am not 100 % comfortable with knowing your future...it's in our hands, and I am not sure playing with it by predicting it is wholly wholesome, if you see what I mean, but I am open to everyone's discussion!)….I am choosing to keep it to myself, what I was told! My lips are sealed! (Unless there's some heavy-ass Twiglet and Cadbury chocolate bribing going down).





Well, until tomorrow peeps,





Tamsyn x

Thursday, 12 May 2011

Wednesday, 11 May 2011

Easy peasy lemon squeezy...


Everybody now, and 'aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh'
On the way home from school, I am informed by Monty that his best mate Enzo is giving him a kitten tomorrow, and it would be fine apparently, he’d bring it home by carrying it in his sack, so I didn’t have to carry it. Thoughtful. And erm, NO! He tries to convince me by telling me how cute and fluffy and white it is…I nearly fall for it too, who can resist a cute fluffy pussy? But I stand my ground, as I know it would be a “It’s me or the kitten” chat from my husband, and who knows where that’d end up?




I have realised of late, I am a compulsive volunteer. I just cannot help myself. It ranges from baking cakes for school, to doing the Bibliotech (library), to face painting at school fetes, to looking after school pets (and killing them, disclaimer: accidentally), to being a real live ‘pin the tail on the Donkey mum’ (never actually happened, but I probably would volunteer for that too). The most recent of volunteering my little self has seen me carting home dozens of books from the Library at my son’s school, to repair, cover and categorise. I have no idea where the HELL I have put the fooking library books. On some tidying frenzy I must have stashed them away somewhere ‘safe’. ‘Ooo I’ll remember where that is, as it’s such a random place to put something’ I tell myself, as I gaily chat to myself on clearing duties. But I never find it again. I am hoping I will come across these books, as I have no inclination to be hauled infront of the Headmaster, demanding me with menaces what I did with the Bibliotech books. We shall see. I don’t know what the volunteering myself for everything is all about, but at least it gets me out. In fact I am now the ‘go-to’ mum, if anything needs doing at school, it’s all ‘oh, Madame Wood, we are asking you as we know you don’t work, so would you be free to….’ Yeah, I don’t ‘work’…HAVE YOU ANY IDEA???!!!! (Don't get me wrong, I am for no second saying I do more than the next person, all I am trying to justify is the fact I definitely do not sit on my pie-ass all day) I feel like screaming in their faces, although probably not the best tack to take considering they teach my kids. I already have a more than dodgy reputation, so wouldn’t want to push it.


I have been on a quest today, to sort all kinds of French things out, I have painted the toilet white (the walls), cooked, cleaned like a trooper, stitched up throws/trousers/a skirt, seen to the kids, the school runs, baked cakes for some event tomorrow, and I am still going. I have felt like I have passed better days, if I am honest, I went everywhere I was supposed to go, went to ring everyone I was supposed to, when the phone died for no apparent reason (another electrical appliance committing suicide, contagious), so phone calls were not done, I went to pay the rent, 2 times, and noone was in (not an entirely easy task with 4 kids in tow), so now we look like we’re late with it. And everyone I went to see, I did not have the correct paper work for, and have to go away and do more homework. I even was on time (despite the considerably unfavourable odds) to my long awaited (2 months) dentist appointment, only to be turned away as the 4 kids I had in tow with me would not wash. He couldn’t possibly tackle my teeth with 4 kids in the same room. Why? Coz I will scream like a snake being tied in a knot, and scare them stupid? Or because he is secretly afraid that my ‘nature’ children (please see previous blog for explanation http://manic-mums.blogspot.com/2011/05/negotiating-with-toddler-hitler-is-not.html) will secretly be syringing each other and pulling out each other’s teeth whilst he performs. Well, the crux of it is, I was turned away. I have had better times licking my own feet clean. In fact I even caught myself wishing I was a chicken today. I watch them boc round, flapping about in the dust, wandering around eating and pecking at anything and everything that wriggles or doesn’t. Easy peasy lemon squeezy (did you used to say that too? No? Oh well, I did) life. But then, I’d be a giant orange beaked flapping ostrich beast, that people may or may not take to, so I’ve left my options open. 


Tomorrow I am going AT the world, I shall rip open my pyjamas, without un-buttoning them, eat my slippers, all roaring and chest pumping the kids over their weetabix. With Rhino-man like prowess (does a Rhino-man exist?) I shall be unbeatable, unstoppable, un…forgettable, gorilla warfare, Madame Wood style. Wow, that’s quite a mission statement, We’ll see how it goes…


I took them up to bed one by one tonight (yes, a bit like loading them onto an Ark, only not in pairs, and they’re going to bed, not off to sea in a giant boat built by a dude called Noah, as the whole world's been flooded, but there’s a little likeness), and read them a story. Lola and Monty were looking at a storybook together when I came down to fetch Lola. I colour it in with Lola for a while, and she remarks that Ariel (the Disney character) has big boobies in her shell bikini. Monty looks over, goes yeah, Lola, you’re right, she has got big Tinsels’…Lord only knows where he got that expression! ‘Alex…!!!!’

That’s it for today *deafened by calls of ‘phew’*. So I’ll see you all tomorrow,

Tamsy x

Ps, look, you see that, I cannot even spell my own name thesedays…!

Monday, 9 May 2011

Read too much of my drivel, and you’ll end up dumber than a sack o’ spanners...


Little less work to do...with the now 'big' two...

Alex hung his punch bag up on a tree a few weeks ago. He likes to have a little punch now and again. He has, however as I remarked this evening, as we hang out for a bit outside preferring to do this the days it’s nice weather-my motto; better out than in, hung it up on the walnut tree. A recipe for punching and thus being pelted by walnuts that genuinely feel like small rocks when they fall on you. He will be being attacked by determined little walnut-rocks trying to take him/anyone within pelting range, out. They would be sat up there perching on their branches waiting, and waiting, and waiting, until someone wanders innocently by and the walnutters yell ‘Now boys, now! This is the moment you have all been trained for. Steady yourselves…aaaaannnndddd, PELT!’ So due to suicide-walnuts,  suffice to say, he may need to consider a punch bag relocation in Autumn.

I've got a luverly bunch of wallllllynuts, diddly dum...

There’s lots gone on this weekend for us. It’s busy times here, we are in the process of (already) preparing for the 2 month school holidays, preceded by weeks on end of 2/3 day weeks, due to the astronomical amounts of bank holidays the French like to blame on various Saints leading up to it. There are jobs being worked, the House to run, vegetable patch to be tended to, nice word that, ‘tended’. Animals to be fed/wormedwatered/de-flead/de-ticked/fussed over/walked (I am grateful chickens don’t have to be ‘walked’. I would be parading giant Ostriches on leads, flapping ferociously to keep up, chicken hooves cliperty clopping behind me, killing everyone in their path, and pecking everything else to within an inch of their lives. They would too, you know. Freak giant chickens. There is also work Alex and I are trying to set up together, with the aim being to earn an income whilst working from home, thus being around to always be with the kids and be able to hang out as a family as much as possible, before the kids turn into teenagers and HATE us. You may well find Alex and I locked in a cupboard by our own doing in years to come, with 4 (or 5, if I have my way!) teenagers at loose. I’ll keep you posted.



The latest craze in Monty’s school is ‘Toupis’, which are spinny disks that one launches into battle with said friend’s Toupi, to see which wins. Various special codes can be used in battle to help you win. Fascinating. Anyway, Monty got his first one at Christmas, obsessively playing with it, only to launch it down a mini tunnel in the wall at the beach, sending it plopping into the sea. It was a devastating moment, and I have still not recovered from the pain on Monty’s face as we watched on in slow motion with him screaming ‘NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!’ and dropping to his knees in tears at it plops into the ocean. He had to wait ages for his next one as they were out of stock in the shops for ages. This week, we spy them in the shop, another is bought with his pocket money. He is too excited, and we race to the park to see if his mates are there so he can have ‘Toupi battles’. He launches this effing Toupi off the slide and it gets buried in the teeny stones they have there, never ever to be found again, despite my looking for TWENTY FIVE minutes…that’s dedication to the cause. Yesterday we got him a new, new, new one. He goes to the loo, and as they’re carried around everywhere, it plops into the toilet buried this time in his poo. Nice. “Alex…!” His dad eventually (after dry retching for what seemed like hours, T-shirt up over his nose to stifle the smell) fished it out for him with BBQ tongs, I suggest you hesitate before accepting a BBQ invitation chez the Woods.

Well I must love you and leave you, I have not even mentioned the half of this weekend’s events, but it’ll do for now. Read too much of my drivel, and you’ll end up dumber than a sack o’ spanners, I say.

Till the next time, Tamsyn x

Sunday, 8 May 2011

Lola's 6th birthday fast approaching...from babba to BIGses...

Baby Lola

My first of 3 bald babies....only my son had hair.

To Driver...yep, we put blocks on her feet, and off she went!

To little girl....(and grew the hair)
Me and my baby, here just turned 5-year-old...her party was held in the garage as it weed it down with rain-14 kids had been invited, you can imagine how that went....!