Friday, 1 July 2011

Nasty weapon of defence though, a pump. Rough.

Well, I have never made a chicken pump before. But tonight I did just exactly that. She was apparently sh*t scared, literally, as I picked her firmly up to put her in her bed for the night, which is like wrestling a crocodile at the best of times, believe me. Nasty weapon of defence though, a pump. Rough.



Well, I’ve had a hectic few days, doing things like walking out of the supermarket, making youths chase after me yelling ‘Madame! Madame!’ and panting in the effort as I finally get they’re yelling me. Turns out as I reach the car and he hunts me down, I had forgotten both my car keys and Mitzi’s school report at the till…

Of late, I have matured, I think. With 8 moves in 9 years together, Alex and I have finally found somewhere we want to grow our roots for a bit, so to speak. I feel like a proper fully fledged grown up, we are settled, and love the community and it’s nice to think we’re staying put for a good while to come. I read the ‘classes for next year’ lists, and was thoroughly happy! The teachers I had begged asked to take my kids have done so! Brill! I was also offered a job, in real life! The woman (who’ll be my new boss), said she was delighted to have met me, and I was perfect for the job! In all honesty, I am perfect, but only coz I am English! It’s working 2 evenings a week with kids/teenagers/grown ups from all over, teaching them english. So I basically got the job on the basis of my nationality, but there you go, I got a job!! I am really excited about it, it’s fully manageable with the kids/animals/school hours/life in general, I can squeeze it in, and it’s just down the road. 

Lola on her new birthday bike-and loving it!! Sure there'll be plenty of this this summer...*anything to tire them out*
Tomorrow is the last time I will be picking up the kids from school, the summer hols are apon us! It’s always a mixture of emtions for me, loads of excitement, looking forward to less morning pressure, well, not having to be out the door by 8 with 4 washed, clean, dressed, breakfasted kids and a dog, was never on my ‘what do you want to be when you grow up’ list. Everyone seems in good spirits, and there’s 2 whole months of holidays-hell bliss. For some reason it’s also a melancholy time of year and not just because I haven’t managed to fashion a giant cgae to house them in over the holidays. Nor the fact that my washing machine is still broken, and I have done several loads, other than some that go to the laundrette, by hand (every time I feel like I am a ‘Little Women’…), nor the fact that I will have to cook INSANE amounts, clean INSANE amounts and entertain INSANE amounts, it’s melancholy because, yet again, we have finished another school year. Lola goes into ‘CP’ in September, big school over here, like junior school. Esmie even starts mini-school, Ecole Maternelle. Although I will put her in as necessary, as she’s my last, and she’s still tiny! But that’s it, another school year, raced by, before we’ve even stopped to wipe our ars*e. it makes me feel dizzy. I can’t slow the time down, they grow so quickly-where’s that effing Time Machine man?


Esmie walks out of her new school, we have just been and survived the showing round school evening. She looks up at me, ‘Mummy, my new Maitress is super lovely, I am very happy. I am happy for my new big girl school and big girl bed.’ Just like that. It was one of the cutest moments I had ever lived, and I’ve lived to see a few…! The school open evening went fairly well, in that Esmie did not smack her new teacher in the face or anything and well, there was the entrance I made… most unfortunate incident to precedent it. I stroll in, 4 kids in tow, explaining to Esmie this is her new school she’ll be coming to next year. I am out of nowhere, cornered by a ‘Mummy’, she asks me how I am and what do I think of the bilingual class then? (please see blog bellow to catch up with the news) whereupon I launch into a strong against it stance, using words such as ‘ridiculous’ ‘unbelievable’ ‘ridiculous’ again, no way hosea was I thinking of changing classes, thoroughly offensive. Waiting for her to pat me on the back in agreement, she looks bemused, curls her lip and says she is all for it, how the kids would be geniuses, not mine, coz being bilingual from a young age was such an advantage for them, making them more intelligent, capable of doing maths (yeah yeah) etc etc…whereupon I point out that in fact mine are in fact doing exactly that, they are English going to French schools in France…she looked p*ssed, and walked off. Oops. Note to self *next time hold forked tongue*…

Right I am off…I am all a kimbo here, I am going on Monty’s end of year school trip tomorrow with Ezza, and I can’t wait! Thankfully, this time I have remembered-oh sh*t, pic nics!…off to make pic nics at 10 pm now, see you all tomorrow!


Tamsyn x

Thursday, 30 June 2011

quick pic: A kid jumps...


Monty having a jump at the park at the beach the other day...SPLAT!

Wednesday, 29 June 2011

I start playing with all kinds of knobs, yank a big stick, and await further instruction.


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!

Monty and his Dad....
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.

Right, I am going to stop there, although I could go on for another ½ hour. You are all excused too! See you tomorrow,

Tamsyn

Tuesday, 28 June 2011

Anyway, moving on from elephants' arses...

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!





Tamsyn x



Monday, 27 June 2011

Cash for Tricks...

Monty cottoned onto the fact that he was getting bribed to do 'tricks' in the swimming pool, and went for it-he earned 47 euros! He deserved it though. It's the swimming pool at the House we stayed in this weekend, with uncle Jamie (behind) bribing him UP, as was uncle Nick and Dad.