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....

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....

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.

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!

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.

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!

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!