Monty having a jump at the park at the beach the other day...SPLAT!
Wednesday, 29 June 2011
|Everyone was 'out' on the way home from the weekend...|
I have just picked up my friend’s 18 month old who I am looking after for the day-her husband has been away for 6 months, they have 3 kids, and he’d just got back. So I looked after the baby whilst her bigger 2 were at school. That way they had the day to themselves (lucky b*st*rds, bet they weren’t thinking of me and my day??!). Actually I offered, so I am keeping schtum. As I drove off, baby K screaming her heart out as we tackle the 'separation from mummy' difficulties by singing really badly French nursery rhymes. They’ll never be to me, like the English ones, I should maybe have educated her, and sung ‘God Save the Queen’ with gay abandon or something English and traditional, but this was maybe not the moment. Out of nowhere, as I am driving along, I squint quite hard, making my eyes hurt, and just about recognising, OMG, WTF? Screeeeching to a halt, I realise I have just been flagged down by Make-Up lady, in al her glory, arms wildly flailing round, bouncing up and down, like i was gonna miss her or something…She has finally managed to buy a car *praises the God of cars and finances to get them and the God of no more trips for me bringing little miss ‘I can’t hear you, ever, speaking as I am always too busy talking myself, about ME!’* (because those Gods exist). It’s like, well, really, really rude, really…it’s like I am chatting to a child who finds me boring and is thus forced to do the kid putting fingers in ears, whilst singing ‘I can’t hear you, I can’t hear you, I can’t hear you’. She’d be f***d if I did the other popular kid gesture-put my hands across my eyes so she couldn’t see me. But I don’t, quite fortunately, well, haven’t yet. She hoys her whole body (she’s not a small lady) out into the road, waving wildly, jewels flying everywhere, lip gloss and phone in other hand. Oh no, what’s happened. I pull up, to be met with a torrent of woe and despair, and a car broken down. As other cars whizz by beeping coz we’re in the way, which BTW, WTF is that about? To put it in triples. ‘Get in!’ she practically screeches, ordering me and half pushing me into the car, ‘I’ll push, you steer’. Again, another triple, because WTF is going on here? I turn to question her logic, but her hand is now on my head squeezing me into her Nissan teeny tiny mobile, one of those cars for no liscence drivers. They call them ‘yoghurt pots’ over here, which is not the funniest thing I’ve ever heard. But there you go.
|Lola Grace snooooozing it up after the weekend, love this pic...|
I start playing with all kinds of knobs, yank a big stick, and await further instruction. This is when the Police pull up (not that my train of thought went anywhere with the ‘knobs’ thing ooooooo, controversial!) They all get out to help push, thoroughly pissed off, and giving us evils. The whole time this is going on, I am dying of mortification, having to drive a car I could not sit up straight in, Make-up lady standing up for herself to the police, me internally, weeping. They try pushing for what seems like the whole rest of the day, the car is going nowhere. ‘Can’t we just pick it up?’ I attempted humour, it went down like a sack of sh*t, but I tried. The police man looks in the car, ‘this yours?’ For fook's sake, make an effort Policeman Plod, mine’s parked right next to you. We then work out why the car is not moving, I have my foot, thinking it’s the clutch, flat to the floor on the brake.
So no, that trip did not go well. Today at school I turned up 10 minutes late, was remarkable, as we’d got up at 7.50 am! Not the most stress free of wake up calls. I bump into my friend who asks me if I’ve brought my picnic? Why? Because I had forgotten I was supposed to be ‘sit in’ in the school today, in protest. They want to do a class of bilingual students, learning the language that has not been spoken for centuries. Fair enough, if you want to do that, but there are only 13, which means the 2 other classes for the non-bilingual students will have to accommodate 30 in each class. We say ‘NO FAIR’. And I thus signed a petition, ran home, grabbed some bread and water (I did it Jesus style, although I have never, apart from that once, been able to turn the water into Mannies…If my husband reads this, I meant to say Nannies, OK?). and got my pie ass back to school to 'sit'. It was actually on the National radio news and everything!
I ‘sat’ for one and a half hours, then just had to get to the house work…fairly good performance I reckon, and plus my friend was leaving, and she was giving me a lift, as Alex’s car is broken down, and we are shuffling life with one car-not the easiest task around, and so he had mine, I therefore had to leave. Excused.
|Monty and his Dad....|
Right, I am going to stop there, although I could go on for another ½ hour. You are all excused too! See you tomorrow,
Posted by Manic Mum at 12:01
Tuesday, 28 June 2011
|The girls in the pool, 'case you didn't get it...|
I am completely cream crackered, we have just got back in and carried 4 out of it with tiredness kids up to their beds, fed the animal brigade and unpacked the car. It’s 9 pm and it’s still 37 degrees…This weekend we went to have a BBQ at a friend’s house a bit further inland. I have had THE most amazing weekend, and scorched myself in the sun (sun 30 factored up and sunnies, well, I’m clocking on and must think of the wrinkles, they befall us all…). I am now, unfortunately at that ages where I am no longer avoiding getting wrinkles, but avoiding getting worse wrinkles, it’s like a zoo keeper has had a field day with left over’s elephant backside and played a practical joke on me and I woke up one morning more minging than ever, and now an elephant’s backside’s face…Too cruel this world.
|Esmie fell in at one point, which was an event, but it was all fine in the end!|
Anyway, moving on from elephants' arses, the weekend saw loads of close friends coming up to have a BBQ in hot weather, swim in the pool, and by the end of it, we had 3 of the 4 kids swimming. Monty did a whole width under water without coming for air! Good on ya son! It was fabulous, and they are consequently proper zonked now, RESULT! The kids on Sunday spent from 10.30 am, till 5.30 pm in the swimming pool. They got out once to eat, and then to bath (?) and get to BED!
|Mitzi-moo, the mermaid|
Friday night was Monty’s end of year spectacle. Which saw Monty dancing like Happy Foot (a penguin in a Disney (think it's Disney?) kiddie film who cannot sing as he is supposed to as a penguin, but he tap dances like a, well like a Disney penguin, I guess...) I realise I am on a bit of a Monty big up tonight, but credit where credit’s due- you can check out his moves for yourself beneath…By the way, so as you know, he is all in black, wearing a bright yellow skirt, dancing it UP with the blonde longish hair-got to cut, mental memo, as pretty long now for a boy, sorry son. He is not the very blonde boy to his RHS, neither is he the dark haired one next to him on his right, bless his little heart, he gave it his best!
Not bad hey?! Seconds before we walk out the door, I think Monty is all, finally ready, he then turns round to me and tells me he needs necklaces and bracelets with an African theme…WTF? Really? You’re gonna tell me now, Monty?? Apparently he is, and have no choice, I quickly find my threads and wools and strategically weave ‘Africanly’ colours around him. It has a kinda ‘you’ll get away with it’ look, and we set off. The theme was an ‘African’ one-bet you didn’t see that coming? My son comes on, necklaces, bracelets, and a bright yellow skirt…he points at it and looks down, curling his mouth and making ‘ahhh’ screaming noises and laughing. He asks me afterwards ‘did I notice he was wearing a skirt?’ ‘Erm, nope’. He also tells me it’s the first time he has ever worn one, he has gone to bed gutted tonight, believing I dressed him in skirts till the age of 3, so he wouldn’t remember. Sometimes, he does not find his mother very funny!!
|Monty taking a plunge for cash...next time, mum's doing it for cash...|
Well, I have another ‘catch up’ blog to write, this weekend threw me completely, my friend at school asked me if needed to see a mental health specialist earlier on, fair enough, there are probably more sane people institutionalised. I have somehow managed to forget everything today, you’ll hear more of that in my next installment. Oh, and my latest encounter with Make-Up lady-she’s still going strong! So I am off to write some more-see you tomorrow!
Posted by Manic Mum at 10:28
Monday, 27 June 2011
Posted by Manic Mum at 21:07
Saturday, 25 June 2011
As I am off for a BBQ weekend away with the family, to see (surrogate) family and friends, I am today, putting up my 'thought for the day' as I will not get the chance this weekend. It is due to be 33 degrees, we are staying overnight at a friends' house, where they have a pool, goats, pygmy sheep, a polar bear named Cher, and the Pistache HQ where the boys run their ship...check them out.
|Monty sporting an XWing design hoody by the boys...|
The beauty is, staying at friends means, when the kids go to sleep and the baby phone's on, the grown ups get to party!! Bring it on!
So I am here with leaving you with my 'Thought for the day', and wishing you as good a weekend as I am about to have!!
"The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing."
Posted by Manic Mum at 10:22
Friday, 24 June 2011
The night time wanderer is at loose. She is in her Big girl bed! Finally! I took the plunge. Well, for the last few months she has been getting herself in and out of her cot, so it was a sign. I have dragged my feet letting Esmie into the Big girl bed world, for the reason now staring me in the face, asking me for a ‘dwink’ and batting her big blue eyes. Cute, but ‘GET BACK INTO BED!!!!!!!’ She is gone, but I am more than sure that within seconds, she will be out again…Wish me luck! This tries me, officially, she’s testing me, and I am gonna lose (it). Right, Esmie is out again, what do I do? Come on folks, help me put here. This is a real live nightmare.
|At Lola's birthday party, last Saturday...|
She finally gave up at 9.30. I have a cat sleeping on my knees, and arms, making typing nigh-on impossible. But there could be worse things sitting on my lap, right? I spent Wednesday, at rainy day activity action stations, ALL day. We got out for about 15 minutes, but the kids stood in the rain, on the forecourt raindrops dropping off their eyelashes, going ‘can we go in yet mummy?’ So I hastily gave up. Human rights I suppose, and all that…
Esmie has been paddying on and off ALL DAY LONG. Because, get this, she ‘hates’ jeans. She only ever wants to wear leggings, and as her fave pair were on the line drying (still no washing machine, laundrette becoming both impractical and extortionate). She puts all kinds of objects together to climb up and rag them off the line. The whole day is her spent cussing me for the fact I am in charge, and she is the loser today…! At the end of the day, the kids are eating every last bit of fruit I bought at the shops today, it’s too good the fresh fruit at the mo, and esmie, I watch, deliberately squish a strawberry into her onerous jeans. She swiftly looks up, declares there’s been an accident, they are wet and dirty, and cannot be warn anymore. She runs off to get ‘new chowsers’ and comes back in all made up with herself, sporting the forbidden leggings. Mummy power zero, toddler power 1...
Anyway, that aside, I have been dreading for a while doing what I am about to tell you I did. You’ll see why-bear with me (as always)…The teacher that has had both Monty, and now Lola, I think is brilliant. It’s been tough for the kids to begin with going to school, not speaking the language, and having to spend a day trying to understand, and be understood. It has been heartache every time I left them at school for the morning. They are so adaptable though, kids, and they learn SO much faster than we do. They have easily picked up the language, and the teachers have been fabulous helping them in this. After school, I took a deep breath, I wanted to ask Lola’s teacher if he would consider having Mitzi next year. I cover my ears and eyes and run away into the kiddie toilets. He comes in and finds me with a big grin on his face…actually, I am changing the direction of this, that just sounded WRONG. I didn’t run away, I looked at him and mumbled my question, then when he didn’t hear me, told him it didn’t matter, ‘no, Madame Wood, go on’. So I did go on, I tend to have verbal diarrhoea at the best of times, and if you catch me on an answering machine ... bloody hell (often cut off middle of message, and am forced to ring back to finish it), he looked at me with a big smile (that’s better, and it’s the truth) told me he’d be delighted, he loved both Monty and Lola and was privileged to be asked, flattered. OMG! Didn’t expect that. I check for signs of drug addiction-all clear. The only thing is, Mitzi-moo is not exactly the same temperament as the big two, Little does he know...mwahahahahahahah. Well, she is super adorable actually, and has reformed of late, being good as gold (the whole ‘yes mum’, right away, mum', from previous blog) it's just, she’s just a bit more, well, climby? Active? Wild? ;) It'll be reet…Sozza Maitre.
|Mitzi moo-moo, dancing it UP at the school spectacle (in brown)|
I have just received my first ever massage from a kid-Lola. Ace! I then, however, get Mitzi coming up behind me, informing me she is about to give me a ‘masscharge’ for a minute, I am a little bit scared, I have no idea what to expect!! Wasn’t too bad as it turns out-well, at least she didn’t accidentally pull a chunk of hair out as Esmie did when it was her turn to do it to me.
I am off, busy day tomorrow, plus I am looking after my friend's 18 month-old all day too, she's got to do something, in a foreign country, never to come home again, oh dear. And her baby's having separation difficulties from mum at the mo, screaming like a (Monty just came down, and I asked him 'screaming like a ...what?' to which he replied 'err, a lion?' so here's me giving my son credit, but not understanding in the least, his logic) lion. And then this weekend, a trip up to friends’ for our first sheep BBQ. Thanks bus driver!
See ya, Tamsyn x
Posted by Manic Mum at 10:10
Thursday, 23 June 2011
Wednesday, 22 June 2011
At 11.30 last night, the chocolate withdrawal symptoms kicked in big time. We were watching a film in bed, and decided it would be a great idea to make chocolate cornflake cakes. Which we did. I had made loads of chocolate cakes the other day, I was on a roll, so I baked some extras for the freezer. We chopped a load of that up and chucked cornflakes into melted chocolate and butter. Half an hour in the freezer, and tasted divine!!! So this morning at 6am, when I got up, after just going to bed 4 hours earlier, I was baggy eyed and pathetic…the kids want to get in the swimming pool before breakfast and going to school, but I held my ground, by looking at them and going ‘er, AS IF?!’ And we got on like good kids with our porridge.
|At my fave beach the other day-there's a park, and it sells coffee to parents-DREAM world!!|
I took Ezza to the beach Monday afternoon, and made sand castles and wandered along picking up stones and shells, and a bit of dog poo, which was neurotically scraped off by a stick, and then hands strerilised in the sea. All within seconds of contact. It was lovely, and so relaxing, considering the weekend’s antics. Back home to reality with a thud-my effing tax forms I have not yet done, due in on the 31st May. OK, deadline been and gone, no more excuses. I sit down to apply myself. But how can you ever, ever be applied when you have a toddler demanding spiders, butterflies, tractors, squares and circles and stars to be drawn after every ‘multiple guess’ questions on my tax forms (which there are about 68 pages of…)? Who can be applied when ‘twinkle ‘twinkle little star is to sung often and slowly as I am told to ‘hang on’ as she catches up? Who can be applied when a toddler is running up to you, pinching you, then running off cackling with their hands over their mouth? And when all else fails, as she does not have my complete and utter, ‘you are the centre of my world, I shall stare only at you all day long’ undivided attention, she starts going ’pile of s***’-an expression picked up from someone, I am not mentioning. ALEX! OK, toddler swearing, need to do tax forms, alright, she wins. I toss the millions of papers and ‘how to fill your million page tax forms out’ instructions, they were in fact a pile of s***, to the side, and take the EZterminator to the park.
|Get that kid to the park!!|
After school, I realise I had forgotten to make bread that morning (oh noooo, we’re all gonna starve…) so have to swing by the Boulangerie to grab a few brown baguettes. I have been trying to get the kids doing a few ‘grown up things’ by themselves. I figure it’s good for them, and I don’t want them to feel smothered, although I never want them out of my sight either (tricky one!!) but you can obviously never be too careful these days. So I parked outside, and let Lola and Monty run in. They walk up hand in hand, Lola with a big grin on her face as she is very proud to be going into a shop with her brother for the fist time on their own. And then all of a sudden, Lola is back at the car sobbing her little heart out. Fooking fantastic, the first time I do this, and something’s gone wrong. It turns out that she got scared, and didn’t want to go in in the end! Bless her. And Monty came out with the wrong bread coz he couldn’t remember what I’d said! But there you go, bread happens…
Alex is sneezing like the pepper fairy, and I hope so very much, this does not mean there is a new bug going round. We’re 2 and a bit weeks from the end of term *rents GIANT cage with Gianter padlock for holidays, realises noone as yet does this, has found niche in market, will get rich!* and leading up to this, I need all the strength in the world. Although today, I did manage to do my tax forms-you know how?? I went in all ‘damsel in distress’ style: ‘I’m English, I'm tired, I am normally a strong woman, but I am here, before you now, a broken one, and I’m not being funny but what the f*** is all this b**ll**s?? Can you pleeeeease help me monsieur?’ And he did! He did it all for me!! Get in! And so now, my tax is complete, and I am no longer chastised by all the rest of the French whom I tell I have not yet done it, who regard me with looks of horror, concern and sometimes disgust. One man told me I would go to prison. For fook’s sake (some of) the French nation- get over yourselves!!
Now, the ducks are in, they are asleep next to a mirror, they think there’s other ducks there, stoooopidos. And then Monty, taking the change of seasons quite literally, today is the first day of Summer, and so he is wearing pyjama shorts to bed he shows me. And lets me know he will be doing this until the first day of Autumn…Goodness, what a house I live in!!
See you soon, Tamsyn x
Posted by Manic Mum at 10:37
Tuesday, 21 June 2011
Couldn't find a photo of Alex and all the kids the other day, so this was taken on Father's day...Doesn't he look pretty in his necklace?? And I am digging my son's style-army welly boots and swimming shorts, gonna be wearing the same myself next time I have a big night out...!
Posted by Manic Mum at 10:37
Monday, 20 June 2011
Not one of the brightest, or most successful of ideas I have had to date. I am talking about inviting 2 of Lola’s friends for a sleep over the night before her birthday…they are still up, it’s 10 to 10, and I am knackered, big fat knackered. GO TO SLEEEEPPPP!!!!!! There’s nothing but a baked potato for Alex and me for tea, as I was not even able to cook, it was all I could do to find time to hoy a potato in the oven. So a baked potato it is. It’s ended up in tears…and it still goes on, they’re all in front of me now, unable to pronounce my name, I am now known as Tamzoom. Well, it’s better than s*** face, so I am not complaining. We are off inforce now upstairs. Alex has just arrived home, and as his absence has BEEN noted, I’ll tell you his excuse in a moment…Right, I am back, Alex’s ‘firm’ voice did the trick! Well, for a bit…I wish I had a man’s voice-so much more authoratitive, not like mine, I sound like a dwarf who has respondedly remarkably badly to steroid treatments when I try and do ‘man stern voice’. OK, Alex’s excuse, he tells me, as I fly out the door again, late, at 4 this afternoon, ‘oh, I am going out now honey, I won’t be back till late. Good luck with the sleep over…!’ And with that, he is gone, in a whirlwind. He has in fact, saved all his chores up for the end of the day. He also informed me earlier there were ‘important things I can’t get out of tomorrow’, they would be starting at 6 am too…yeah yeah, see ya!!
|Lola and her 2 best friends, they've been best mates since they were 3...Now they're all 6, that's half their lifetime they've been best buds!! Well cute...|
So I was all alone to fend off the masses of kids *note to self, never, ever have 6 kids. 5 is fine, but 6 moves into the realms of child takeover, well, 1 does to be fair, but that’s just my experience! Oh no, I have not yet put the chickens and ducks to bed *boos self*. Because now it means I have the evening Olympics ahead of me, flying around the garden, sprinting like a maniac herding the poultry to bed. Sporadically failing a rugby tackle hither and thither, sending ostriches and cute ducks flapping violently off going ‘ner ner ner ner ner’ and blowing raspberries…Everyone takes the p*ss out of me in this house.
Monty is very old fashioned bless him, earlier this evening, he requested one of Lola’s friends if she would 'mind not swearing’, it ‘offends’ him, apparently! He was in tears at one point too, as there were so many scary girls, all trying to kiss him…It's late now, and Alex has just nearly passed out blowing out balloons, getting ready for Lola’s birthday tomorrow (Saturday). Me, well I was there, wrapping like a trooper, wrapping presents till I passed out, we started at 11.30 pm…
|Lola with Daddy, on her new birthday bike...|
On Saturday evening, finally, at 6.30pm, I pull in to my drive. I had partied all morning from 5am, yes, that was getting up time after the 11 o’clock finally everyone’s asleep (ish) I was so relieved to be back too. Party time all morning, making things, drawing, painting, hair, nails, dressing up, babies. All girly girly things, indoor activities, it weed it down. Thank you God. *waggles fist angrily at sky*. I cook dinner, turn round to a crying Esmie, who takes my hand and informs me she has just shoved a tree bud thing up her snoz. Superb. So now, we are off to A and E, at 7 pm on a Saturday night, and a sneezy toddler. The doctor had walked in, finally, and I stood up, to realise I had stepped into GIANT world. I was the giant, for the first time nearly ever in my life I was Giant. She was hands down, the smallest woman in the whole wide world. But to give her her due, she got it out!! It was extracted…. 2 ½ hrs later, we’re clear. They attempted to hoover it out, pincer it out and slosh it out. To no avail, and a by then we had a hysterical toddler, they informed me they need to call the resident ENT specialist. She’d give it one more go. Thank god , she succeeded! Whey hey! We can go home. 10 o’clock. Not too bad…Hmmmmmm.
|This was the offending article. Well done Ez.|
I give up. I have literally spent the last half hour trying to get Mickey and Minnie (wish the kids had liked posh and Beaks, such cooler names…) to bed (the ducks, for those who are not up to date). I am bright red, puffing, probably sweating, although I am too wet to notice as I had to wade through their little pond to try and get at them, to fall into a bush of stinging nettles, which OMG that f*****g stings, FYI, to end up prodding them with a large stick through the bush to get them back into the garden and in the direction of the garage. I thought I could out run them, but they have cottoned on to the fact that there is safety beneath the caravan. Millions of weapons of mass chicken and duck and cat evacuations lie strewn across the ground. Too small to fit anything but a small child, but this is adult world. Hard core out-running, rugby tackling falling in steams and nettle bushes to get at poultry and the like unadulterated adult world.
|Dad giving 'now, stay in sight, do not run off where we can't see you' instructions to the troops...|
So, Sunday night, and we had a gorgeous calm, hot, swimming pool in the garden, watering the veg, going for bike rides and a dog walk day. Eveyone’s sparko, and I am going to have myself a well earned bath. Night all! See you tomorrow,
Posted by Manic Mum at 09:58
Sunday, 19 June 2011
We love him so so much, because we just do.....
|(yep, he got hairy for a bit.....)|
Because he's very funny...
Because he says 'pull my finger' and he pumps so loud and it makes us laugh...
Because he gives lovely cuddles and kisses...
Because he is so nice...
Because he plays with us
Because he is kind
Because he looks after us ...
Because he is THE BEST DAD EVER!!!
|I love you honey, you're the best most loving, caring, affectionate, funny lovely Dad...The kids are very lucky to have you....As am I xxxxxx|
Posted by Manic Mum at 11:26
Saturday, 18 June 2011
|My big girl and her cake I made...|
|And the kids!!!! at 6.30 this morning, after going to bed at 10.30 pm...what fun was had by all. NOTE TO SELF: never, ever, ever have another 'sleep over' as long as all of us live...|
Posted by Manic Mum at 09:51
Friday, 17 June 2011
I’m not a vicious person…but today, on the phone, being spoken to as rudely as I was, I wanted to barge into her office and kick her in. How aggressive?? But how necessary, considering. The French amuse and bemuse me. They seem to be a nation (disclaimer, I know there must be lots of you out there who are not going to fit into my following description, but who, at the same time, will see EXACTLY where I am coming from. Erhem, *and begins*) they are people who ‘follow orders’ they have SO many rules and regulations, you have to prove everything, 8 times over to 97 different enterprises, and even then it’s never sure you’ve done the correct thing. They are a nation of not looking outside the box, if they do not recognise something, then you’re f*ck*d, basically, and have to get official translations of English birth certificates, because, you know, it’s really hard to read the same numbers…AND then they even get my daughter’s date of birth wrong. According to them she was born 3 months after my other daughter, which is remarkable, not even I could do that! I mean come on, really.
Anyway, I was angry and feeling aggressive today. To top it all off, I have Mitzi who following another ear infection the other day, got so poorly she was being sick every hour for 48 hours, the medicine finally kicked in late this afternoon, and she kept a bit of food down at last, woohoo. As the Dr had warned if she was sick one more time, it would be on a drip at hospital. Not again. Please supoositories do your magic (ha ha, just read my typo back, and so leaving it!). So suffice to say, a day on 4-year-old daughter puking at hourly intervals, WHISLT my washing machine has decided to die on me, has been eventful. Alex actually took a hammer to the washing machine today. He destroyed it in frustration. Well, not exactly, he wasn’t stood there cursing the washing machine Basil Faulty styley, going ‘RIGHT, I’m giving you a count of three to work, 1…2…3 RIGHT! That’s it! I’m going to get my hammer and I am going to hit you SO hard, you’ll be sorry, don’t say I didn’t warn you….’ BANG! Not quite, I had to get my washing out, which had been in there since Thursday last. Hence the desperate measures and all.
Now, I don’t know how I have managed to do it…but I have fully trained Mitzi! Finally ground her down. I have gone from every time I ask her to do anything, her looking at me as though I had just ripped my own head off and asked her to eat in. Followed by ‘well, I can’t I’m…’ or ‘but I am just …’ (sound familiar?) I am now hearing (and bear in mind this has been going on for 2 weeks now, so it’s a milestone, ‘good behaviour for 2 weeks’ definitely goes alongside ‘First white female 13-year-old Prime Minister’. True that) she looks at me when I tell her something, and with out hesitating, smiles and goes ‘yes Mum’. Hey, other parents out there, you alright? I heard world wide thuds of parents fainting all over. It’s true. She is a little angel. I can’t remember how I did it, but I am bloody chuffed with myself. I DO have power..AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA *laughs meglamaniacally, runs out of breath, falls on floor, gets back up, carries on blogging* *phew*.
Esmie has just been yelling ‘MUMMY!’ and alerting me to the fact (coz I hadn’t noticed) that ‘I’m crying up here’ but she is saying it in such an angry way, it’s just making me laugh. ‘I WANT A CUGGLE!’, ‘I’m STILL crying you know’. So there is at least one normal, naughty, rude, abusive, relentless LOUD child in our midst. Well, Ezza wouldn’t let us down, would she?! (Disclaimer: I love you Ez, and I love that you are not boring, and have a character, even if you do scare me).
It is a relatively stressful situation receiving a dead sheep. I still have not quite recovered-I have the reminder legs/chumps/neck etc staring at me and poking out at me in the freezer (I get in there and shut myself in sometimes to ‘get away’ for a bit, it’s f*****g freeeezing, but it’s quiet). The weekend after this, we are having our first sheep meal, a BBQ, we are going to cook it in the earth, ‘Hangi’ style (google it). As I have said before, although I am vegetarian, for me, if I don’t know you and you invite me round to eat, and you have cooked me meat, I will gratefully eat it. It’s worse ‘karma’ for me to be rude and offend you by not eating it out of my ‘principles’. You have gone to the effort, so I am grateful. You see? So, I will be having some lamb. I have to say, I am not looking forward to it, but it has to be done, like most things in life…well, at least once…??!
See you tomorrow!
Posted by Manic Mum at 10:15
Thursday, 16 June 2011
Wednesday, 15 June 2011
Our 15-year-old has left with Alex today to fly home. I know coz the fridge has stayed full for 15 minutes! My god, I am startled, where do they put it? I have seen more meat on a jockey’s whip. Ewww what a horrendous saying, that’s just hideous, last time I use it. Update: he missed his flight, and is back! Bye-bye fridge contents…!
Well suppository time tonight with a poorly Mitzi, who has an ear infection in her other ear, and has been being sick on and off all night and all day, was fun. The suppositories had been lift (I've turned into a South African talking) in a hot car, and as they are vaseliney in texture, this was not a nice task. But half the job was done, and after washing my hands, again, I am off to cook.
Monty did not like Posh and Becks, despite my pleas, coz I think they’re cool. I actually made him cry I was so insistent, going ‘go on, let’s call them Posh and Beaks, go on, they’re great names…’ I reduced the poor sod to tears! So now on a guilt trip, the ducks have been renamed ‘Mickey’ and ‘Minnie’. Partly due to the fact we reckon one’s a dude, thank god the word for a male duck is less abusive a ‘Drake’, I’m done with cocks and partly due to the fact that Esmie is obsessed with Minnie Mouse. So Esmie is happy, and the kids decided on the names for Esmie’s sake, as she has not yet much contributed to the naming ceremonies in the house yet.
|I am so getting this car....|
|And this one, for when the kids are naughty and the animals are pissing me off....|
|And this one for Alex, if he mops my floors for me tonight...!|
These days I am reversing out the drive, avoiding a plethora of livestock-chickens, ducks, cats, dog, humans. Reversing scares me, it’s one of my phobias. I have ‘Reversing phobia’ and if that doesn’t exist, then it should, because I have it, I am living proof. It’s been brought on by circumstance, obviously, avoiding animals and kids/bikes/surfboards/the other car and the like. Talking of reversing-you’ll follow, keep with it…We have issues chez us. Night time issues, of a magnitude that Mother Theresa nor Super Nanny could endure. Esmie, how does one reverse behaviour? I have not yet braved the ‘Big girl bed’ thing with Ezza as we affectionately refer to her, well it makes us laugh, it’s like ‘Shazza’ no offense Shaz, but your name sucks…! So Ezza, she is climbing out of her cot and terrorising her sisters and brother. HELP! I am going to ‘Youtube’ Super Nanny, and see whether this can put paid to my misery. Nothing is working, and I need to write my blog, so I cannot sit up there putting her in her bed every 2 seconds…anyway, that’s by-the-by, I wanted to tell you, that tonight after school, Jeannot the bus driver-who gave us the whole dead sheep, salutes me, as he is a bit cross eyed, I never know whether he is looking at me or watching out to see if the bus is coming….So I am pretty sure it was me, and I gaily wave and rub my tummy in appreciative ‘thanks for the dead sheep’ gestures. I think he got it...? I do hope today, I am able to post up a blog, we’ve had internet issues too at our house, and I frustratingly couldn’t do anything yesterday. But panic ye not-I am back today! Hoorah. And I will see you tomorrow, internet temporamentalities taken into consideration…
Posted by Manic Mum at 10:51
Monday, 13 June 2011
I was grateful and all that, but my god, at the end of the day, I had just been handed a dead sheep.
|look who we found in our bath this morning....|
First of all, welcome to our world Daisy and Minnie! Our 2 new ducks! They swam around for ages in our massive paddling pool. And then Lola and Monty took them off to their bed in the garage. Hoorah! They are well cute, and I am convinced one of them is a male, although they reckon they’ve caught me 2 girls. Well, time will tell whether Daisy/Minnie are in fact Brendan/Barry. Oh, and the names are not certain yet…
Friday night, the school spectacle-the girls’ danced like boogy queens, and I nearly fell off the bench filming, I was unfortunately at the back, and had to stand on a bench to see, *damns self for being so small* and they are like Lilliputs doing twirls and boogying to French songs, but I filmed it nonetheless. Bravo me. And then after…OMG, I nearly died tressing girls’ hair. The queue was immense, and my heart sunk into my flip-flops when I saw it. The tressing was endless, I tressed like a Trojan on speed and did dozens and dozens. I check the clock, it’s 9.15 pm, I have been here literally for 2 and a half hours. I make my excuses, and die on the spot. Then I come back to life, realised I was being let off for good behaviour, and rounded up the 3 out of 4 kids, as Lola was going to be staying at her friend’s that night. I walk out to the car park, realising Alex had dropped me off, parked and come back. He had not told me where. But it was all alright-I see the car! We walk over the otherside of the car park, I go to open the door and put the kids in, and realise it’s locked. AHA! Our car, does not lock. This is not my car. I drag 3 hyper-tired kids back to the School, make a call on a friend’s phone to ask Alex where he parked. Miles away, that’s where. But at least I know, and off we trot.
|The 'tresses'....that nearly killed their mother...|
My garage smells like an abattoir, my fridge like vampires have been nesting in there, and I feel violated. 9.40 am, Saturday morning there’s a knock at the door, I am in the shower as I was expecting the knock at 10, in my house every second counts. It’s the bus driver, his wife and gorgeous little adopted son and one MAHOOSIVE dead sheep, in plastic. Thank yous and kisses and tears ensued. Well, not the tears, I was grateful and all that, but my god, at the end of the day, I had just been handed a dead sheep. It’ll feed us for a month, and the rest (well not if the 15-year-old who’s staying here with us stays…). It arrived, thankfully headless (don’t think I’ve ever said that before…), necessarily ‘hoofless’, and already gutted. Alex got his best mate Jamie Bennett up to help, and to bring a sharp knife-veggie household=blunt knives. Well who needs a sharp knife to cut up a lentil? So the deed was done, we have legs/necks/breast/chumps/loins/other bits I cannot remember the name’s of. I did draw a diagram for Alex before carving procedures ensued, I ‘Wikipediad’ ‘carving up a sheep’ and the diagram seemed self explanatory enough. The music was blaring, and I kept doing the finger in the ears thing saying ‘I can’t hear it, I can’t hear it, I can’t hear it’ in vein attempts to drown out the hacking saw through bone noises, and cracking sounds. Too rank.
On a brighter note, we have our friends’ son’s 1st birthday party tomorrow afternoon, weather is to be sunny, and the kids will be caked up, coked up (the fizzy pop coked up, she hastily adds) and played out. So hopefully they’ll sleep in…?
You can but wish….See you Tuesday!
Posted by Manic Mum at 11:06
Sunday, 12 June 2011
Hello, and welcome! So you’re back for more of my Thoughts for the Day….Are you all sitting comfortably? Good, then I’ll begin. This is one of my MOST favourite quotes of all time, it is from again, one of my most favourite authors of all time too, J.R.R Tolkien. In Lord of the Rings Gandalf the Grey replies to Frodo:
Frodo: "I wish none of this had happened." Gandalf: "So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us."
Well, I know what it means to me, and I will leave you to reflect on it, and do your homework…!
Have a peaceful Sunday,
Posted by Manic Mum at 10:58