Wednesday 30 September 2009

More evidence of the speed of growing up

Like every other parent on the planet, I often find myself saying "they're growing up so fast!". Although really, in the grand scheme of things, humans grow up unbelievably slowly - giraffes walk almost immediately after birth, while it takes us a year. But parents coo over every small developmental milestone, and I'm no exception.

Emsy's latest skill is the ability to sit up. Almost. Well, for a few seconds, until her head moves in one direction or another and drags her body inexorably after it. If she's gently propped though she can do pretty well, and is feeling justifiably proud of this acheivement.

Emily, sitting up

Isabel, on the other hand, is progressing into the role of schoolgirl at a rate of knots. She now has weekly maths homework and spellings to learn for a test every Friday, plus two reading books a week. She's expected to do 15 minutes of reading with us each night (not always easy to squeeze this in, but we're doing our best). I'm sure that when I was at primary school, in the late 1970s, we never had any homework at all. Going to secondary school proved quite a shock - now I'm just grateful for the years I didn't have any homework! She's also growing up in ways which weren't even thought of in my day. She now has her own Facebook account, and told her teacher today, as part of a discussion about which countries different foods come from, that she was growing dates on her Farmville farm on FB - I'd have loved to have heard the teacher's reply!

Tuesday 29 September 2009

Getting the ice cube trays out again

Yup, it's that time for little Emily - getting ready for weaning. We went to a post-natal group meeting on weaning this morning which provided some useful reminders, and I'm starting to get quite excited about getting going. However, it may be a couple of weeks yet, since (a) the advice is not to start until they're six months old and that won't be until 18 October, and (b) we're off to the Emerald Isle this weekend, so I really don't want to get started until we're back. However, I'm preparing, both mentally and physically - I'm getting ready for the fact that she'll quite often reject the food that I've made (I will not take it personally this time!) and that it'll be messy. So, today I peeled, chopped, boiled and pureed five pears and filled an ice cube tray. We still don't have a high chair although I quite like a wooden one I saw in Asda so might get that - for the time being we'll be using the Bumbo chair since Emily's probably too small for a high chair yet anyway. Bless her, the little pipsqueak!

Monday 28 September 2009

Repitition, repitition, repitition

I'm blogging while catching up with this weekend's X Factor, and it suddenly struck me how repititive it is. Obviously the format is repetitive, although they've made efforts to remedy that this year by holding the auditions in front of a live audience, but the voiceover is repetitive too, and it just doesn't need to be. I always quite liked Dermot O'Leary, but if I hear him saying "And no-one wants it more than Stacey from Dagenham", or whoever it happens to be, I swear I'll chuck something substantial at the telly. All of the contestants want to win, they all want to move out of their grotty flats and shed the detritis of their depressing lives - we know this, but none of them want it more than anyone else, stop going on about it!

Of course, the X Factor's not the only show guilty of this. After watching a series of Masterchef Goes Large I could pretty much do the voiceover myself. In fact, the only reality-type TV show that has studiously avoided this trap is Location, Location, Location - Kirstie and Phil are Gods of Property, and should be put forward as case studies at TV Presenter school. Sarah Beeny has her moments too, but she delivers her lines with a level of irritating smugness that Kirstie and Phil don't have. We know that they think the househunter in question is a moron, but in a friendly and non-offensive way. I may also have to take lessons, having thought about it - I think a lot of people are morons but I'm patronising about it, like Sarah Beeny, and thereby reveal my hand too early. Anyone got Kirstie's phone number?

Sunday 27 September 2009

When did weekends stop being relaxing?

Don't get me wrong, I've had a lovely weekend and thoroughly enjoyed it, but now I'm pooped! I remember the days when weekends meant getting up late (OK, I was never good at that, getting up at around 8.30am was always a lie-in for me!), watching several hours of TV which I'd recorded during the week, having an afternoon nap later on, and generally chilling out.

I know that the answer to my question is "when you had kids, you idiot, what did you expect?!", but I don't think I was prepared for the state of perpetual motion that weekends have become. This weekend was typical - took Isabel to ballet class from 11.15-12.15 on Saturday, with Emsy. Home for lunch while Emsy napped, then back into action - feeding, walk down the hill to the library, the chocolate shop and the park, more feeding, dinner, bathtimes and then general parental collapse. Today was slightly more chilled - quick trip to Sainsbury's, friends round for lunch with their toddler and small baby (9 weeks old and heavier than lil' Emily I think!), then homework with Isabel, dinner, bath and bed. Oh, and in amongst all this, Husbandio moved bunk beds from my dad's house to here, and a load of furniture to his sister's new place in London - this took him ALL DAY yesterday so he was properly shattered.

However, even though I'm tired I wouldn't have changed it - the girls have been lovely, I spent quality time with some good friends, I didn't spend too much money, and we have a tidy playroom. And a new bed for Isabel - she seems pretty chuffed with it, what do you think?

Friday 25 September 2009

Good job I'm not (gulp) scared of spiders

There was an article on the BBC News site this morning saying that more spiders than usual are expected in the UK this autumn because we had a wet autumn last year and a reasonably cool summer this year - perfect breeding conditions apparently. And it's definitely true in our neck of the woods. Each night recently we've had pretty big chunky house spiders scuttling across the lounge floor (luckily I usually sit with my feet up on the coffee table!). Other than that I haven't found more webs than usual in the house, but the ones outside are just magnificent. Some are so thick that they're more like cotton threads than webbing. And several have big spiders living in the middle just waiting for dinner to be served - as shown in the picture below.


It's lucky that spiders don't bother me I guess - although even I jumped earlier this evening as quite a big spider scuttled up my arm as I was feeding Emily. What does bother me however is the thought of a spider scuttling across her face as she's asleep - now that's creepy. Since I'm not really bothered by spiders, Isabel isn't either - in fact, if she sees a spider she descends upon it gleefully, saying "Sidney, I've missed you!". I think she may be going a little too far the other way...!

Thursday 24 September 2009

She's a Sixties child at heart

Over the last few months we've been expanding Isabel's musical interests beyond nursery rhymes and Disney songs. So far her favourites are the Beach Boys and, in the last few weeks, the Monkees. She likes the Beach Boys so much that she'll watch the Beach Boys DVD we have rather than Mickey Mouse Clubhouse (yay!), but the Monkees are quickly catching up.

I always loved the Monkees, and even saw them in concert several times as a teenager, and I'd love to get her watching the TV shows as well. I was going to buy them from Amazon, but Series One costs £34.98, which is just madness, and Series Two isn't much better at £31.98. Why so expensive?! Must be because there's quite a lot of content and not a massive demand. I'm considering setting up a petition to get the BBC to broadcast the shows again! I fear I may be the only signatory. Oh, and Isabel, now that she can write her own name! All together now, "Hey Hey, We're The Monkees, People say we're monkeying around!"

Wednesday 23 September 2009

Making friends

Isabel's now into her third term at school - she's settling into a group of friends, and even has a best friend. Interestingly, our neighbour's daughter, who is also in her class, is not in this group, and they don't really seem to interact at all at school. Both of them appear to have agreed that they are "home friends" but not school friends, and both are very happy with this. Strikes me as strange, but seems to work for them.

The issue which I'm thinking about at the moment is whether it's a good thing or not to have a best friend at this stage. I'm concerned that having a best friend may mean that Isabel doesn't interact as much as she could do with other children in the class, and that if the best friend relationship turns sour then she could be stranded without a network of other friends to fall back on. So far that seems to be a groundless fear since she does mention playing with other children (all girls, it should be added - boys don't seem to feature at all on her radar yet as potential playmates!). And I'm trying to encourage a range of friendships by inviting various children home for tea - we have one coming on Friday (sausages and mash for tea!) and another on Monday (macaroni cheese!). The best friend can come too of course, but a little later this term. Not quite brave enough to invite more than one child at a time - refereeing between two extremely over-excited five year olds is as much as I can manage at the moment.

I think the line I'll try to follow is to encourage her to have a best friend, but with the caveat that a group of friends can also be enormously valuable. As they say, "books and friends should be few but good".

Tuesday 22 September 2009

Back to the good old days

Times are tough, that's no secret. Times are particularly tough when you're on maternity leave pay rather than a proper salary. For these reasons, I'm trying to be better about not wasting food. In the past, I admit, I've thrown away bags of salad which I'd meant to eat but hadn't got to before it got slimy (or which I'd rejected in favour of something more appealing like a packet of pink wafer biscuits).

So, at the weekend we had a roast lunch - nice large chicken, a bargain at only £4.99. Although I failed to boil down the carcass to make stock (come on, life's too short) I did make soup out of the leftover broccoli and cabbage along with some of the chicken. And it was actually really nice, much better than I'd expected. Isabel slurped it down with gusto which was great, and declared that it was just like leek and potato soup. Funny, since there were no leeks or potatoes in it.

And today I made what I always think of as a really seventies dessert. Yummy, and again a bargain. I bought a flan case, filled it with sliced strawberries, blueberries and grapes, then poured in Quick Jel. It set in about 20 minutes, and looked so nice that Husbandio insisted I must have bought it. Unfortunately we ate it so quickly that there's no picture of it, so you'll just have to take my word for it!

Monday 21 September 2009

Breaking the habit

Emily is now in her own room, which is a momentous event for us, even if not for her. The joy of going to bed and reading for ten minutes before turning out the light, rather than creeping in under the cover of darkness, holding my breath and sliding silently under the duvet, then waiting in trepidation to see if I've disturbed her, can barely be overstated.

BUT. You knew there had to be a but. Ever since having a cold two weeks ago, she's developed a terrible habit of waking up at 1am to feed, and then she can't sleep much longer than about 5.30am. Feeding her twice in the night is not ideal, to say the least. Last night I managed to settle her again until about 6.45am, but just being woken up twice a night is really grinding me down. I'm OK all day until about 6.30pm and then I struggle through dinner, bathtime, final feed and stories for Isabel. After that, I only have enough brain power for an episode of the X Factor. And that's not much brain power at all. And it often makes me cry, which is pathetic. Can I still blame that on hormones? Anyway, apologies for weak blogging, I'll try to maybe write earlier in the day tomorrow when more than 10% of my brain still works...

Friday 18 September 2009

Just don't add it up

Yup, it's that time of year again when the after-school activities get started, and this inevitably means parents forking out some hard earned cash. Isabel's doing a few things this year, but not too many (must keep remembering she's only five!). Even then, we'll be spending over £200 just between now and the end of the year. And that's even before you factor in buying equipment. Gulp. Should have taken my own advice and not added that up.

One thing which she's continuing with is ballet (and now, since she's older, the classes also include tap and modern). When she started, about 18 months ago, our neighbour's daughter and two other friends also did the class, but they've all slowly fallen by the wayside. Luckily, one of Isabel's classmates is trialling the class tomorrow - hope she likes it, as it's nice to have some friends there. Isabel's also continuing with disco on a Monday after school, and swimming on a Wednesday. Oh, and then there's French on Monday lunchtimes, and singing club on Thursday lunchtimes. But that's it, honest! I hope this isn't overloading her - will have to watch for signs of undue fatigue. But she seems keen to do it all, and in fact has turned down several other opportunities including judo, football, touch rugby and tennis. Perhaps competitive sport won't be the route she chooses to take in life - Husbandio will be disappointed, as he's hoping she'll win him an Olympic gold. Not setting our expectations too high then!

Wednesday 16 September 2009

Online shopping brings out the worst in me

Understandably, I haven't been out much recently on any exciting shopping expeditions. No, Husbandio, Sainsbury's doesn't count. While I was still working I was pregnant so there was no point buying any new clothes, and now I'm skint since statutory maternity pay comes nowhere near my actual salary. Plus, shopping with kids in tow is not much of a pleasure. We went to the new Westfield shopping centre over the summer holidays which looks marvellous, but dragging small people round naturally curtailed the amount of time we could spend there.

Anyway, one really annoying habit which I have is that I am pretty tight with money. Or at least, I don't mind spending it, but it can take me ages to decide whether I definitely want to spend the money on something. And the more expensive the item, the worse the problem - it took me forever to finally get an iPod Touch although I really wanted one, and even then it was a birthday present! Anyway, online shopping only serves to fuel this because (a) I always feel I can get the desired item cheaper on another site and (b) it's really easy to prevaricate and ultimately fail to buy whatever it is, or find it's gone out of stock.

The latest thing is that I've seen a Boden coat which I really want but, despite a 12% discount voucher plus free P&P I just can't decide whether to get it. I probably will in the end, but I'll tiptoe around the decision for ages. We also need a highchair for Emsy and I've seen a great one, at a good price, in Asda, but I still can't quite press "Buy" - why is this? Maybe it's the worry that it won't quite be what I want and then it'll be a pain in the arse to return, or maybe it's just that I'm cheap. I don't really need any comments in response to that though....!

Tuesday 15 September 2009

You can choose your friends...

I realised the other day that, while I very much enjoyed my university experience, almost all of my really close friends are either from school or from periods after university, such as when I was on a kibbutz for nine months. What happened to those uni friends? Where did they go? Was it something I said?

Having mulled this strange phenomenon for a little while, I've come to the conclusion that uni was probably such a melting pot that, while I was close to a lot of people while I was there, there can't have been that many people with whom I really had a lot in common. My school friends and I must have had more fundamentals in common, and it's those friendships which have endured. Kibbutz friendships have also proved very resilient - in fact, this very weekend I have two such friends coming for a sleepover, and I'm really looking forward to it. Actually, I suppose you could say three friends, since Husbandio is also a kibbutz friend, so it'll be a really nice mini-reunion. I thought being on FB would throw a lot more people at me whom I didn't really want to be in touch with any more - luckily that's not been the case. I hope I haven't spoken too soon.....!

Monday 14 September 2009

Mobile living

Although I love a gadget, I've never been big into mobile phones. I just want a phone that allows me to make and receive calls, send texts and, if I'm really lucky, take photos that don't look as if the phone was hidden inside a pair of tights when the picture was taken. However, I don't like being ripped off, and when I realised last week that I was spending about £35-40 a month on half an hour of phone calls and 70-odd texts, while Husbandio spends £25 for bloody hours on the phone and loads of texts, I got cross. Of course, it's not in the mobile phone company's interest to put me on a better tariff if I haven't had the nous to notice that I'm getting stiffed, but that's not the point. It's just rude.

So, tonight I resolved to sort it out. With Husbandio's help of course - he's great at sorting out these kinds of things, and having him on speakerphone clinched me a better deal than I would otherwise have got. That, and calling the company in question just before their lines closed - the guy was desperate to go home! So, I now have a £25 monthly tariff discounted to just under £10, and a shiny new phone. Not a very exciting phone, but a new phone nonetheless. And I'm no longer being ripped off. So, while I have a bit of a headache from all the hard work involved, I'm feeling at peace with the world.

Sunday 13 September 2009

Twelve Years

Today is our twelfth wedding anniversary. Twelfth! I'm just not quite sure where all those years have gone. I have a reasonably clear recollection of the five years since Isabel was born, but that seems to now account for 90% of the time we've been married, while the previous seven years have shrunk to a meagre 10%. What on earth did we do before Isabel was born? It's all very hazy, but I think the answers are probably:
  1. Worked too many hours for no extra pay. I used to think it was standard to arrive at work at 8.30am and leave at 7pm. Since my paid hours were 9.30am - 5.30pm this meant I was doing at least a day's overtime each week. How kind of me! Since I was working for my dad at the time, and very much enjoyed what I was doing, I didn't really mind, so I'm not whinging. But looking back, I wish I'd left on time more often and maybe done a course in something completely separate from anything I've done before, like carpentry or auto repair. Just to clarify - I also very much enjoy my current job, but work much more to the clock since having kids. Nothing to do with the job, just a re-balancing of priorities - if a small girl needs feeding then Mum's got to leave the office on time!
  2. Just popped out for a quick drink, or dinner and a movie, without marshalling a small army of babysitters and other helpers. Again, I wish I'd done this more, but I think that finances may have prevented this!
I've just read a blog by a woman with two sons under five who decided, despite her kids and the fact that she's running her own business, to join the Clipper Round the World Race - she's sailing from the UK to Brazil over the next five weeks. While I'm not suggesting I want to do anything like this, I am looking forward to the day when I can carve out a little slot in my life to do something new and different, whether that's more travelling or just learning something new. However, unlike the sailor lady, I think I'll put this on hold for the next ten years or so, which should give me plenty of time to come up with something interesting! In the meantime, I'll set a short term goal - once Emily turns a year old, and breastfeeding is done with, I'll be getting back to aqua aerobics. Remind me of this next April to make sure I do it!

Saturday 12 September 2009

A small adventure

I know, I know, every day with kids is an adventure. Today, however, Emily and I went off on our own mini-adventure, venturing down a hitherto unexplored public footpath. Husbandio and elsdest daughter were off on a mystery mission to Costco, so after Ems had woken up from her nap and had some milk we set off. I took my camera since it was a beautiful Indian summer day, and here are the highlights...

As we set off, I spotted this tree in our neighbour's garden, and it looked beautiful against the sky.

Since the berries looked so nice, I decided to see if I could find any other berries or fruit along the way. Just a few paces later I came across this schizophrenic bush:

Further down the road we came across someone growing grapes, which was a bit of a surprise.

Finding a damson tree was only to be expected:

And sloes of course (while I love sloe gin I'm not sure I can be bothered to pick and prick all the necessary sloes!)

And, of course, the ubiquitous blackberries.

After all this fruit-spotting excitement, we came across a public footpath sign, and soon found ourselves venturing down a mysterious path...

Unfortunately, at the end, we came across a small difficulty which prevented us going any further.

Which was a pity, since it looked beautiful.

However, it all proved rather too much excitement for young Emsy.

When we got home, we decided to have some chilling time in the hammock.

Thursday 10 September 2009

Different shades of cold

Isn't it weird how colds affect people in different ways, even when it's the same cold virus? We've all had colds this week which has been less fun than giving myself a paper cut and pouring lemon juice in in it (OK, I stole that line from Billy Crystal in The Princess Bride, so sue me). Isabel shrugged it off, and was left with a slight cough which I think we've knocked on the head with Triaminic, a US cough medicine which works miles better than anything we've ever bought in the UK. The trouble is that Isabel, like me, will cough for a good two weeks after a cold if we don't try to get rid of it quickly. When this happened to me last year I was pregnant, had a weakened immune system, and ended up with three successive chest infections and bad asthma which lasted til the end of the pregnancy. So we try not to let coughs linger!

Husbandio, however, never gets a cough. He gets what he describes as a fog in his head, and this can take a while to clear, even after the cold has gone. With this cold he's also had really sensitive ears, so Isabel's driving him mad because she's naturally loud. She's even louder now however since I think the cold has left her a little deaf so she keeps shouting when she doesn't need to - it's like she's wearing headphones all the time!

As for me, I've been left with a cough, as ever, and very blocked sinuses which I hope doesn't mean I'll develop sinusitis, as I have in the past. The blocked sinuses also mean I've lost my sense of taste which is a right pain in the backside. I love my food, and miss tasting it - please, sense of taste, come back soon!

But how is it that one cold virus can affect all of us in such different ways? And who will Emsy take after? Not sure as yet, but she has her own talent down pat already - the girl can blow the biggest snot bubbles you've ever seen. If only I'd had my camera...!

Wednesday 9 September 2009

Reading or memorisation?

Last week, Isabel's school sent home a list of what it expects from parents and pupils, and in turn what we should expect from the school. The intention is that you read this document through with your child, then sign the form and return it to the school.

One of the expectations was that parents listen to their child read every night, so we've been trying to set time aside each evening to do this. The books Isabel brings home are, as previously discussed, from the Oxford Reading Tree series and therefore somewhat less exciting than watching paint dry. However, in her bag today I found a bookmark with a list of books on the back of it. Now, whether these are books they should be able to read, or good books to read with them, I'm not quite sure, but we took the plunge, found that we owned one of the books, and set off.

The book in question was Peace At Last, and Isabel looked very dubious as to whether she'd be able to read it. But she boldly plunged in and, to her surprise and mine, started ploughing through the pages with very few problems. She claims not to have read the book in question at school, and we've not read it together for ages. She struggled in places but was certainly able to read 90% of it. However, when she easily read words like "refrigerator" I got a bit suspicious, so either she's a genius reader, or she has an excellent memory, or she's using the picture clues very well. Either way, she did brilliantly, and Emsy, despite her cold, loved having her big sis read her a story. A good start to Year 1 - well done that girl!

Tuesday 8 September 2009

The Media Revolution

Let's have a show of hands: who watches anything live on TV nowadays? By live I don't mean a live concert or something like that, but simply watching a programme when it's actually being broadcast.

Here's my answer: never. If the programme I want is on a channel with adverts I always record it on Sky Plus and, even if I'm home, I'll start it 10 or 15 minutes late so I can scroll through the ads. And there's no guarantee that even if I'm taping it that I'll want to watch it then - programmes now fit my mood rather than me watching whatever's on just for the sake of it.

Recently, however, things have got even more exciting. Previously, if I wanted to watch something, I needed to know beforehand and remember to set the box to record it. The launch of BBC iPlayer changed all that, and I occasionally used it to catch up with stuff I'd missed. The problem, however, was that iPlayer only worked through my laptop or, since my birthday, my iPod, and neither of those devices are very good for watching a programme with someone else. Curling up together with the laptop just doesn't cut it for me.

The newest development has changed all that - good old Auntie Beeb has joined forces with Sony, and we now have iPlayer available through the PS3. Fantastic! Today I'd read Rob Brydon's tweets about his panel show Would I Lie To You, which I'd forgotten to record, so instead we watched it on the TV through iPlayer. OK, it froze a couple of times, but mostly it was perfect - and even with glitches it's better than huddling round the laptop. Let's hope the BBC's great work in this area will spur on the other broadcasters, because at the moment they're trailing way behind.

Monday 7 September 2009

Developing a sense of irony

I have a cold. I haven't had one in ages and, as if to make up for lost time, this one is a corker. I've been streaming all afternoon, walking around the house miserably clutching half a toilet roll and a Vicks inhaler. I caught it from Isabel who must have picked it up on Thursday when she went back to school - she was runny-nosed all weekend, while I only started today.

At least I have company - Husbandio and Emily have also got the dreaded lurgy. Poor Ems - at one point today she got herself into such a state that her face was just covered with tears, dribble and snot. She had no idea how to cope, so just fell asleep eventually. There's my girl.

After I'd fed Emily and put her to bed tonight I went in to read a final story to Isabel. Who, with a gleam in her eye, handed me a Charlie and Lola book entitled "I'm Really Ever So Not Well", in which Lola has a terrible cold, and passes it on to Charlie. Oh, how I laughed....

Sunday 6 September 2009

Language pedantics

My last blog post generated such an animated discussion that I thought I might try to think of something equally contentious to write about tonight. This has proven tricky since (a) I didn't realise I would stir so much passion with the last post, and (b) I'm not really sure I want to start another mini-war! However, I then started watching the last episode of On Thin Ice (yes, we're about six weeks behind, but thanks to the beauty of Sky Plus we're battling on), and the narrator said something so annoying that I realised I'd found my topic.

The thing that the narrator said was "they're really got a mountain to climb now, as they traverse the vast Antarctic plateau" - eh? Mountain or plateau? Can't be both! I am known for being a terrible grammatical pedant and a stickler for spelling (something which Isabel will learn to her cost as she proceeds through Years 1 and 2) - it's something I inherited from both of my parents, and also something for which I'm grateful.

I love to read well-written books, and hate reading things like Dan Brown's The Da Vinci Code since the language grated on me throughout. I could say the same of the current book I'm struggling through (OK, the book which I've been ignoring for about three weeks, and blaming this on the summer holidays) - Gregory David Roberts' Shantaram. It's so overly flowery that it's really distracting me from what could be quite an interesting story. One example: "She walked into Leopold's at the usual time, and when she stopped a table near me to talk to friends, I tried once more to find the words for the foliant blaze of her green eyes". The what? Foliant blaze?! This is making it really hard for me to finish the bloody book, and I've only got to page 124 out of 933. And I'm reading it for a book group, so I can't give up. In fact, I never give up on a book - I still have a bookmark in the middle of Vanity Fair and have done since I was 15. I'll finish it one day. I hope I can kickstart my reading of Shantaram so the same thing doesn't happen....

Saturday 5 September 2009

Virtual farming - why?!

Several of my friends and family members are devotees of the virtual farming applications you can get on Facebook, and I just don't get it. This may be another example of me having a complete sense of humour failure - similar to my loathing of so-called comedians like Will Ferrell and Jim Carrey. Since I've never played either of these apps I guess it's a bit unfair to write a blog post slagging them off. But hey, it's my blog, so live with it.

At present, I have two Farmville invitations and 32 (!) Farm Town requests. I'm too polite to turn down requests to be someone's neighbour or refuse gifts of plum trees, so I've just left them to fester in my inbox. The thing is that I just don't see the point. I don't see what could possibly be entertaining about growing virtual crops. Can you eat them? No. I rest my case.

My 14 year old brother, who is a fan, tried to convince me of the efficacy of these games by saying, "It's so exciting harvesting them and watching them grow - I watched them growing last night, 1% every hour". What?! Needless to say, this did not sway me. Husbandio did a slightly better job - he says it's therapeutic. I can understand that, in fact that's why I write this blog. That, and it keeps my writing muscle exercised. And because I can say what I want without anyone interrupting me.

I suppose what it comes down to is that I have a very limited amount of time in my life for entertainment, so I have to be selective. And virtual farming just doesn't cut it. As an aside, I also don't understand why boys like console games where you have to spend ages customising a character or a car before you fight or race - that just seems to me like playing with virtual Barbies. And since I never liked real world Barbies, that doesn't appeal either! But if anyone can convince me as to why these farming games might be fun then I'll give it a go....but don't hold you breath.

Friday 4 September 2009

Social restrictions

This evening we were invited to go to the pub with my Dad and stepmother for dinner. I didn't really think much of it until last night, when I started to question why I'd accepted this kind invitation - Emsy fusses from about 6pm onwards because it's the end of the day and she's tired, and we wanted to take this fussing four month old out for an evening? Madness! I could suddenly envisage Husbandio and I eating as fast as we could in shifts while trying to keep Emily happy, and then rushing home to get her into bed. Where's the fun in that?

I thought I'd been quite good this time round about accepting the social limitations of having a small baby but clearly my a small part of my brain still wishes for the freedom of a long ago life. When Isabel was small I felt for ages like I'd been imprisoned, and it took a long while to accept that we couldn't just pop out to a movie or for dinner as and when we felt like it. This time I knew what I was letting myself in for, so I haven't felt that at all. Rather than going out, we've had lots of people round for meals, or been to houses of friends with kids, usually for lunch. Doing anything after dark has been a no-no (other than one venture out to a friend's book group, which was a five minute walk up the road!).

Yet all this slipped my mind earlier this week, and I blithely accepted the invitation, only to then realise that I really didn't want to struggle through that situation. I don't like being ruled by baby schedules, but I accept that if you keep a small baby in a reasonably strict routine you end up with a baby who sleeps well and is fairly predictable. So, for the next few months (realistically, at least a year I'd say) we will be mostly staying in in the evening - but hopefully this will be interspersed with visitors, and nights of silly card games and vodka. Because that is currently my idea of a great night!

Thursday 3 September 2009

Back to reality

Isabel went back to school today, her first day in Year One. I'd thought she might be a bit nervous since she was towards the end of last year - mind you, that was because she thought she was the only member of her class going up to Year One, and that she wouldn't know anyone. Ah, the self-centred world of the five year old!

However, today dawned bright and windy (very windy - blew the cover off the garden furniture twice!), and she skipped down the path to the school singing "first day back at school - hooray!". You gotta love the little geek. She was even happy going into a new classroom, no hanging on my sleeve, just pootled off - one kiss and she was gone. This is a far cry from the girl who used to have to be peeled off me when she went to her Montessori nursery school in Kilburn, before we moved out to the sticks. It's like she's had a personality transplant - the change in confidence levels is quite remarkable.

I must admit to a guilty sense of relief at sending her back to school. It's been lovely spending the summer with both of my girls (and Husbandio, for two weeks at least) but exhausting. Never mind salaried work, spending every day with a small baby and a five year old is far more draining. Small baby was the least of my problems, since she's now in a lovely routine, and sleeps from 9-9.45am, noon - 2pm, and 4-5pm. Which leaves plenty of time to get stuff done, and even have a nap. Or catch up with Holby. And that's exactly what I did today - my mum was here for the day, and she and I both napped during Emily's lunchtime siesta. But Isabel has no off switch - she's constantly chatting, questioning and, if given half a chance, misbehaving, for every waking second of the day. By about 5pm each day I usually had to say "Just be quiet for 10 minutes!" - this is why normally sane parents resort to the babysitter known as the television. They just can't stand the Chinese water torture of constant communication.

Wednesday 2 September 2009

International travels

Well, Ireland anyway. We're planning a small trip around a work conference I'm attending in October. Since I'm still breastfeeding, Ems is naturally coming too, and since I'll need a babysitter that means Husbandio is also tagging along behind. Actually, he's tagging ahead since he's going on a couple of days earlier to spend some time with his best friend who's lived over there for the last few years. I'm glad we're not going too far since I'll be flying alone with Emsy - OK, the flight's only 1hr and 20 mins but that could feel like an enormously long time if she screams all the way!

As I was feeding her last night and mulling over the trip I suddenly realised we didn't have a passport for her - duh! So today, rather than spending a quiet day getting Isabel ready for her first day back at school tomorrow, we spent a lot of time trying to get a decent passport photo taken of a four month old. Clearly using a photo booth was a bad plan, so we went to the Post Office which has a shop attached where they also take passport photos. Sorted, or so I thought. The guy seemed to know what he was doing, plopped Emily down on her back on a cushion, and proceeded to take a series of pictures that made her look like a vampire at best. Everytime I presented them at the Post Office counter (where they have a checking service so that you don't send your passport application off only for it to be rejected for some reason) they gave me a look which said "You don't really expect me to accept that photo do you?". This got me, and eventually Emily too, into a right stressed out state, largely because it made Isabel and I late for our hair appointments (I hate being late!).

The extreme level of incompetence of the man was made even more laughable by what happened later. After our haircuts (yes, we look lovely, thank you!) and a chill out session in Cafe Nero we walked up to the local camera shop, which also does passport photos. They were professionalism personified. We've been in there several times - my mum bought her new camera there when she broke the old one, and Husbandio bought mine when I lost the other one at Whipsnade, and they've been brilliant every time. So this post is now an advert for the camera shop - and deservedly so! I ended up with 8 perfect photos (OK, her ears are sticking out a bit, but that wasn't the photographer's fault!), and managed to send off the passport application this afternoon. Should take two weeks - hope it does, since we're off in a month!


We used the bottom picture in the end. Although I'd rather have used the one below - after all, she is really Pumpkin Rann!

Tuesday 1 September 2009

Crafty stuff

I've probably mentioned before, but I'm not really one for craft. I'm not terribly artistic, and Isabel's pictures now are pretty much as good as mine are! She got quite a lot of craft-type presents for her birthday, and we've played with quite a few of them now.

So far, my favourite by a country mile is Hama beads. You place small cylinders onto a peg board, complete a picture, and if you like it, you iron it and the pegs all melt together and hey presto, art! I like it because it's simple, clean (not like painting!) and you can produce something pretty cool looking without too much effort. We all like it actually - some evenings Husbandio, Isabel and I have all been gathered round the coffee table, being creative. We've been working hard on our Hama beads, and below are some of our best creations.


The close second in my book are Connecta Straws. I remember playing with these when I was a kid, and I still like them! We made a little family, although they needed a little help to sit up!


We'll be moving on to making windchimes and friendship bracelets soon - and of course expanding our Hama bead repertoire. Watch this space!