Ray of light

What was that ball of light that dared to show it's face in the sky this morning? Who painted the grey, blue? It always feels tremendously worse being cooped up indoors when it isn't pissing it down.  I rather fancied my chances at making a bid for freedom tomorrow yet I fear the Law of the Sod will turn the rain switch to 'on' again, bugger. Then there's the small inconvenience of the impending untrackable delivery of Thing Two's new lego that she chose with birthday money she received nearly 9 months ago. Double bugger.

Once again i'm failing miserably at getting back on the dieting wagon and yet still have another 14-21lbs to lose. My willpower is abysmal at the moment so whilst awaiting for it to get back on track.......I baked ginger biscuits. Sorry hips, I didn't mean to.  I do have the beginnings of a considerably epic ramble on weight loss in my drafts waiting to be completed yet alas it shall indeed have to wait a little longer. The internet is down, again and I have been forced to download an application for my phone to compose this and my thumb is about to wither from over exertion.

Thing Two is full of cold and Thing One walked approximately six miles with The Husband après school and yet they still had the energy to be little sods after tea the highlights of which included throwing cat food at each other and paper aeroplanes down the toilet (then at the walls) and lets not forget the fact one of them turned the heating up to 25c.

Despite teething three teeth, The Toddler is stupendously exhausting to watch and has managed to escape and do the stair game more times then I can count. The little hoodlum laughed in the face of The Husbands attempts to restrain these antics and in an exhibition of sheer anarchy managed to remove the door wedge and upturn the book box both of which should have foiled him.

Irregardless of his mighty escapades he still petitioned against sleep and another 1h45m bedtime ensued (with 5 stories) before he finally admitted defeat and boobed to sleep at around 22.45.

Im vastly losing the fading memories of whatever it was I used to actually do with my evenings before I was chained to the bed (steady on! Out of the gutter...) by boob and mummy dependants though The Husband (bless him) frequently tries to remind me at the most unorthodox times, usually earning himself a filthy glower and a pinch to bring him to his senses.  I'm too tired to be a sex goddess darling. Sleep is the new sex.



I'll leave you with another picture from this morning. I threw open the window and inhaled the light swallowing it soul deep and back again and for a glancing second I touched hope. Mere seconds in time and yet everything stopped and my mind was blissfully silent.

Baltic Amber

Excuse the poor photo, the only time The Toddler is remotely still is when he's nursing and even then he has a penchant for gymnastics.  So, Baltic Amber.  Specifically Baltic Amber teething necklaces.

For those who've never heard of them, Baltic amber is the only fossil resin that contains 3-8% succinic acid. The amber warms when in contact with skin and releases an oil that has analgesic properties.  It's been used for many centuries and is especially popular on the continent.

When Thing One was a baby I had no idea they existed.  Thing Two got one as a freebie but by then she had all her teeth.  The Toddler has had his necklace since he was really quite a small baby.  It has been taken off only a handful of times in his life, the only time that immediately springs to mind is when he needed a chest X-ray.  Otherwise he wears it 24/7, yes even in the bath.

Does it work though?  Good question.  All I can say is that he has a mouthful of teeth and half of them I had no idea where on there way until they'd already arrived.  He rarely drools or has red cheeks.  When teething he doesn't scream and cry, he just feeds even longer then usual (i.e throughout the entire day and night).  Even his molars have been no issue.  Infact the only issues with teething we've had is occasionally they bring upon cold symptoms and this exacerbates his breathing issues and has resulted with him being taken to hospital three times in four months. 

Just this week, he was giggling away and I took the opportunity to glance in his mouth and saw a tooth emerging, we had no idea yet in retrospect is does explain why he's upped his nursing antics lately.

So in my experience of three children with only one wearing Baltic Amber I'd have to say, yes.  I do believe it works.  Unfortunately The Husband remains sceptical, as he does with anything like this he believes it's all a load of old tosh.  Same with Arnica cream.  He doubted the magic cough relief of putting vapour rub on feet then socks on top at night time yet even he can't deny how well it works (yet he refuses to humour me and try the half an onion next to the bed cough cure)

So around a year ago I decided to purchase myself an Baltic Amber necklace and bracelet.  Amber bracelets are highly effective for controlling the pain of rheumatism, arthritis, and aching muscles and joints whereas necklaces can provide significant pain relief for head, neck and throat areas Baltic amber is also an anti-anxiety remedy that rids fatigue and weariness. As someone who suffers from Myalgic Encephalomyelitis, anxiety and depression I figured I could benefit from it.  Unfortunately despite the amazing effect it appears to have on The Toddler I can't say I noticed any affect at all.

Yet, before we completely write it off as total twaddle it's important to remember not all Baltic Amber that is sold is actually genuine.  There are some very simple tests to check the authenticity of Baltic Amber if you're at all in doubt.  Unfortunately I am doubtful of the authenticity of mine after carrying out the acetone test on my bracelet which may explain things. 

However, I feel I must mention that recently many small companies are recalling baby teething necklaces due to Trading Standards investigating the safety of infants wearing them so many makers are now having to market them at being suitable for for 3yrs and over.  There have been no incidents reported connected with them, it's purely speculation of potential danger.

I know one thing though, I won't be returning The Toddlers.  It's invaluable.

Nom Nom...

Phew.  Found the recipe.  Thing One had much fun making them.  I just wish they weren't so scrumptious..... oops, there goes another one.  Silly kamikaze Jammy Dodgers that simply insist on launching themselves into my mouth.  After their self sacrifice it would be churlish and somewhat disrespectful to not eat them, would it not?

It's a good job I worked out the calorie content after I devoured three of them..... at just under 200 calories a pop.  Ouch.

If it aint broke, don't fix it

I was in the midst of a good old rambling post, The Husband and Thing One had gone on an expedition and I'd promised Thing Two that we could bake.  She was looking quite forlorn as I happily typed away so in a moment of good ole Mummy guilt I saved as a draft and went into the kitchen to find the Jammie Dodgers recipe that we have baked many a time and love.  I have this habit of scrawling recipes on the backs of random envelopes and scraps of paper, without titles, and bunging them in the baking cupboard, I glanced through every last one and the recipe wasn't there.  Not to worry, I have it bookmarked online.  I should have took this as an Omen really and just left them to happily watch TV but no, onwards I went only to find dear Virgin has let me down, there was no Internet.  yes, no Internet. Oh. My God. Cue palpitations.  I swear there's more Internet then blood in my veins.  I kept pressing refresh like some maniac, I fiddled with the modem, I closed and reopened my browser and even rebooted the computer.  No Internet at all. Gah!.

Meanwhile, The Toddler is practising his latest 'game' of opening the door, escaping through the gap in the gate, going up the stairs at full speed, legging it to the bathroom and slamming the door.  This happened about ten times, I kid you not.  I'm dreaming of a cigarette, I haven't had one in nearly 9 years.

Plan two.  It's one thing doing sod all but quite another when you promised to do something.  So in a moment of what I can only describe as sheer madness when I lost all sense of judgement I emptied a large book tub and filled it with water, bubbles and red food dye.  I placed said tub on towels in the kitchen and dumped some toys in it then let in the kinders.  In another senile moment I thought I'd raid the skanky wheel barrow in the garden for the sand/water toys that had been festering there over the Winter, only to find The Toddler had opened the back door and was dancing on the pavement behind me.  The garden isn't child friendly at the moment so I grabbed him, tucked him under my arm and continued poking through the infestation of rank toys with him having a full blown tantrum under my arm.  I'm dreaming of Vodka, a bottle of, I haven't had alcohol in 2years and 9 months.

Once inside I lock the back door and place the toddler down.  Thing Two is in seventh heaven with the water play, has stripped half her kit off and is playing wondrously.  The Toddler decides to be an absolute pain in the arse and attempts to go through all the kitchen cupboards, mess around with the washing machine, put MaCabre on the stereo and commence headbanging whilst clambering up and down a chair with wet feet. ARGH.  Occasionally he'd wander to the water and have a play and then back to feats of amazing danger again.  Eventually I had to out my middle name of 'Kill Joy' and put an end to it before he skidded across the floor and cracked his head open.

I felt a tad guilty.  Thing Two had been having fun.  So yet another bad idea, I empty and dry the tub and dump all of The Toddlers rainbow rice in there, something he absolutely adores and spends ages entranced by it.  Apparently that is reserved for when he's a) on his own b) secured in his high chair with the rice in a tin on the table in front of him.  Once again, Thing Two is ecstatic and playing happily yet The Toddler inbetween screaming at her for daring to play with his rice, decides to fill the tub with dinosaurs so Thing One can't get to the rice and to top it off attempts a tug of war with me with the full intention of emptying rainbow rice all over the lounge. Don't think so buddy. I remove the rice and in retaliation The Toddler removes his nappy. His favourite thing at the moment is weeing, specifically weeing on things, purposefully.  So I hear the shrill call of Thing Two to tell me that The Toddler is peeing on her blanket. Great.  No really, fanbloodytastic.  He looks incredibly pleased, me? Not so pleased.

It doesn't stop here.  Thing Two goes up to the loo only she didn't quite make it and despite being dry for several years she wee's her knickers as she walks up the stairs.  This wasn't no puddle, this was a full on 10 gallon flood all the way up the stairs.  So whilst reassuring her it's no biggee, accidents happen I ask her to simply put some dry knicks on and get The Toddler a nappy, whilst I set about scrubbing the stairs.  I'm wondering how much of my Zoloft I have left.

Then a huge meltdown tantrum ensues as I dare to attempt to put  nappy and then trousers (to prevent him taking said nappy off) on him.

Finally, I take him to the sofa, snuggle up and he feeds (and feeds and feeds and feeds) and calm is eventually restored.

For now.

I'm now dreaming of an asylum stay.

The moral of this story? If the kids are happy pottering about, playing with toys and watching the TV, don't ever ever ever try and change that. Ever.

Oh and that blog entry I saved earlier? didn't actually save. 

Is it tomorrow yet?

Feet

<=== Is the sight that greeted me when I glanced at The Toddler fast asleep next to me in my bed last night.  Usually he sleeps in a fleece all-in-one over his jimmies as he undoubtedly wriggles and kicks off all blankets and that way I have the reassurance that no matter what acrobatics he practises, he'll not get cold.  Not to mention he looks absolutely adorable in one.  Yet The Toddler finds it hilarious to take it off, then hand back to me to put on again, rinse and repeat.  Needless to say I don't share his enthusiasm in this game, not even a little, not even at all.  I put my foot down last night and after putting it on  for the second time I declared 'No More', so he snuggled down for a mammoth boobing session and fell asleep.  Hence the gorgeous wee bare foot.

As a rule, I hate feet.  I find them abjectly hideous.  The Husband lives in the knowledge that he will never ever have his toes sucked nor a foot rub and if his foot so much as brushes any part of my anatomy, I'm liable to yelp, shudder then attack....viciously. The mere thought of adult feet (other then my own fair ones) sends my gag reflex into spasm and yet baby feet are simply adorable and beg to be sniffed affectionately and kissed.  It seem's like only  yesterday when The Toddler's feet were newborn, wrinkly and utterly scrumptious and the sight of plasters on them made me weep as they had to keep stealing his blood.

Now they're smooth and pesky and like to be 'sniffed' as you say 'pooooooooooooooooooo! stinky feet!' which makes The Toddler writhe in raptures of hysterics, squealing with delight.

On the subject of feet and indeed The Toddler, the poor darling managed to trip over thin air today.  I was busy bollocking refereeing  Thing One and Thing Two upstairs when I heard him wail.  When I came down despite being comforted by The Husband he was still sobbing his little heart out, most unlike him.  Usually when he has a little stumble he'll point to the offending appendage, hold it out to be kissed then be off again on his merry exploratory way.  Scooping him up he immediately burrowed for booby and yet despite curling into my side his suckling was punctuated by small gasped sobs.  Strange.  Booby fixes everything usually.

He kept pointing at his wee foot, which seemed neither red, swollen nor bruised and yet he'd take a few steps then burst into tears.  Up the stairs I carried him, slathered his entire foot/ankle/toes in Arnica cream, gave a spoonful of paracetamol and then snuggled him as he furled into me and fed and fed....and fed.  What do you know, he's now walking fine.  Arnica is an absolute wonder in this house, The Husband is a total and absolute sceptic yet I see proof of it's power all the time and simply wouldn't be without it. 

I also love the undoubted comfort breastfeeding provides him whether he's tired, ill, frightened or hurt.....a cuddle and feed is like Valium to him, a total smile bringer.

I dread the day when his problems can't be cured with a simple kiss and a cuddle yet for now, i'll cherish them and be grateful that I can fullfill my job description of 'cure all' aka Mum.

The 'C' word

Last week Thing One asked all about Cancer. Apparently he'd seen a young girl with no hair and was told she had Cancer and thus wanted to know if I've known anyone who had Cancer.

This is where it becomes tricky.  The need to be honest and factual balanced with hope because Thing One is a worry wart and we'd never here the end of his what if's.

So I admitted that yes, I've known people with Cancer.  I told him that my Grandad died of Cancer and so did The Husbands Aunt. I explained that it's a very sad disease that can make people extraordinarily poorly and that some people just get too poorly and can't fight the cancer and sadly die and others manage to beat it.  I explained how it's the treatment as opposed to the disease that can make peoples hair fall out and that not everyone who has Cancer, loses their hair. Like Nanna, my Mum.  She had Ovarian Cancer (The Silent Killer) in 2005? and thankfully after serious surgery and chemotherapy, she kicked it's arse (yet another pro of my extended breastfeeding of The Toddler and before him, Thing Two.  Breastfeeding can reduce the risk of cancer )  Everyday I cross everything that it stays away and never ever comes back.

Thing One's lip started to wobble, his eyes filled up somewhat and his breathing quickened ' I don't know what I'd do if Nanna died, I'd miss her so much.  I'd be so so very sad that I'd probably cry for something like five whole days'

Weekly meal planning

Oops, well I totally ballsed it up this week.  In my defence I was distracted and ever so tired.  I somehow managed to neglect to incorporate the weekend into my weekly meal plan so am two days short.  This is not good news especially considering the amount of the shopping bill total.

So 7 meals for 7 days (starting last night)

• Pork steaks in sage & onion crumb with beef savoury rice and giant flat garlic mushrooms.
• White fish in creamy sauce with boiled potatoes and sweetcorn.
• Hot Dogs 
• Fresh pasta tortellini and ravioli with marscapone sauce and garlic ciabatta
• Turkey escalopes with pasta in sauce
• Lentil stew with dumplings
• erm....... the 7th is tbc.

However, Häagen-Dazs was half price so it would have been dreadfully rude to not indulge so several spoon fulls straight from the tub soon lifted my spirits and feelings of failure.  Oh Pralines & Cream....come to Mama!

Fruit Loop

Although I heartily applaud The Toddler eating fruit, I do wish he wouldn't insist on depositing chewed up parts of it all over the place, you should have seen the carpet.  I suppose it serves me right for being a lazy Mummy and refusing to peel it yet the clever chappy manages to scrape the apple off the peel and spit the peel back out, in little pieces, everywhere.






He's like some mixed up little bird who is trying to single handedly replenish the apple society through attempting to grow an orchard in the front room.  Should I break the news that apples from from seeds not from their flesh?

Still, it kept him occupied and I suppose is slightly less lethal then lobbing the apple at things like you know, people etc.

What's in a name?

Everybody likes to be called something by their offspring.  I like 'Mama' when very young then 'Mummy' and will eventually settle for Mum when they deem Mummy too babyish.  I secretly like Mama and Mummy, I do.  One of the many super things about having small ones is being called Mummy, so why, yes why, does The Toddler  with a very limited vocabulary not only insist on calling me 'Mum' totally bypassing Mummy but has also perfected that teenage 'Muuuuuuuuuuuuuum' when he wants something?

You'd be surprised as to exactly how superbly expressive and conversational he can be, you know, what with the whole lacking in the actual words department.

Me: 'H...'
The Toddler: 'whaaaaat?!'
Me: 'please come back in here'
The Toddler: 'whhhhhhhy?'
Me: 'because it's safer in here darling'
The Toddler: [Huffs and sighs..loudly and dramatically]
 

Foiled by a toddler (again)

Our stair gates are ancient and don't actually go on the stairs, instead we have one in the bedroom doorway, one between the lounge and the minuscule hall and a final one between the lounge and kitchen. 

However over the years one of the poles has worked itself loose and The Toddler has realised he can slip through the gap, mess with the front door and be up the stairs quicker then a rat up a drainpipe.

So, The Husband in all his wisdom decided that if we threaded some cardboard through the bars The Toddler would no longer be bale to squeeze through.

Imagine his utter delight when he discovered that Daddy had kindly created an actual door to make it even more fun to escape.

Toddler Van Gogh

The Toddler got an easel for his birthday and he adores it. He's allowed the chalk and the alphabet magnets yet  I draw (aren't I the queen of puns today?) the line at using the paint pots and white board markers.  The latter he'd coat himself in and try to eat, yes still, and the former he'd coat the wall and carpet with.  I think he loves the spontaneity and availability of always having the chalk board and chalk and can thus oft be found drawing away.  However, from time to time the chalk board needs a thorough clean, as chalk boards do, and the little board buffer isn't quite up to the job so I have to sneakily intervene whilst he's not looking with ye olde.....wet kitchen roll.


Today I had one of those light bulb moments as The Toddler was looking mighty bored.  I filled one of the paint pots with water and let him 'paint' with water on the dusty board.  So not only did he get his artistic workout, the board also got cleaned, bonus.  He was thrilled and was engrossed by it for an impressively long time.  However, I may have, possibly, maybe.....kept a firm hold on the pot. I know, I know, stifling his Independence and all that but you see, The Toddler has form for emptying water all over the place, it's the reason he's no longer trusted with a beaker.  The carpet is not a garden and will not grow if watered.  Ever.  However, something might happen to shrink, that being my patience not to mention my ever decreasing sanity.

Green watch

Rain rain go away....I need to sort out the pallet bed and get planting! especially as The Postman delivered a rather charming and much appreciated package today from an exceedingly generous friend. little packets of seed with handwritten instructions and letter on the loveliest notepaper.

Lets just hope I don't manage to kill them.....

In other news, Thing Two's pot has given birth to yet another two seedlings.  That's six of the blighters now.  I haven't the foggiest idea what to do with them. The weather is dire, I have neither pots nor compost.  Am hoping The Inlaws may be kind enough to adopt them as they're somewhat more green fingered then me and I fear the seedlings will soon start to protest due to lack of room.  This wasn't supposed to happen.  they're weren't supposed to survive....

Wishy washy....

Yesterday I put a nappy wash on as usual yet was somewhat perturbed when very shortly after starting it, the light started flashing 'End'.  That definitely wasn't right.  So I did the usual extra rinse yet saw dreaded bubbles.  There shouldn't have been any detergent left to make bubbles, as every cloth nappy user knows you only use a tablespoon of it and a nappy wash is the only type of wash I use a full length cycle on so the original wash should have taken forever.  Hmmm.  Not good.  Not good at all.

Even worse, when The Husband went to hang them to dry on the maiden, he said they were too whiffy to do so.  No, no, no, no, no. They're never whiffy after a wash.  What was going on?  I went to inspect and they were still soaking wet and I could feel detergent on them making them slippery and bubble up when rubbed. Damn.

I gave the washing machine a lie in this morning in the hope he'd recover and tried a quick cycle on the machine just in case it was something all technical and totally beyond me connected to the type of cycle and, naively, thought well maybe a different cycle will work?

Once again there was way too much froth despite me having added no detergent whatsoever, just white vinegar to help strip the detergent and once again the cycle cut out half way through and the now sinister 'End' light was flashing despite me wailing 'but it can't be then end, you haven't finished the start or the middle yet!' Gah.

Never mind the overflowing pile of dirty washing upstairs, the nappies! the nappies! they're hostage in the machine. I haven't bought disposables in 22 months, I have no idea how much they are or what size The Toddler would need and not forgetting they'd give him a rash and, well, I don't like them! I could wax lyrical with stats and facts about why I don't like them but quite frankly I fear I bore you enough already without getting on my nappy soap box. 

We are somewhat cursed with electrical goods, no really.  Our last TV broke when the cat puked on it.  In 12 years we have had 4 hoovers, 4 microwaves, 3 tv's, 4 or 5 toasters, 3 computers (& a laptop), two tumble driers, 4 washing machines, 3 kettles, three stereos...you get the picture.  Thankfully the majority were hand-me-downs, refurbished or budget ranges.  The Husband is cursed with electrical items.  Literally thing's I'd owned BH (before husband) had lasted years without a problem yet a few months near The Husband and they mysteriously break down.  We half wonder if it's somehow connected to his own electrical current as he's always getting static shocks.

Last year we forked out £90 that we really couldn't spare to get our tumble drier fixed only for it to die (again) several months later leaving us in the predicament of neither being able to afford to fix it nor replace it.  We are barely managing without it (limited space, one maiden, lots of rain and 5 people in the house) the absence of a washing machine would quite literally spell disaster.

So The Husband decides to brave it and check the filter.  What did he find? Two single pennies jammed into it.  My money (hah!) is going on it being Thing One's doing.

So four towels mopping up later and two pence richer our fingers are crossed as we beg the machine to do it's job properly this time now it's had emergency surgery and for The Toddler not to have a poo marathon until the nappies are washed and dried.

Exploding Mums

Bed time was, to put it mildly, totally and absolutely disastrous.  Thing One was enjoying his reading book from school about an exploding mum, which to a seven year old boy is stupendously funny.  Unfortunately Thing Two found it alarmingly horrific and the tears came in floods despite usually having the grimmest and most morbid humour out of the lot of us, which is saying a lot.  She really is a macabre little madame, usually.

Needless to say overtiredness played a key part in that.  I know, I know 'overtiredness' is the excuse of a bad parent, we all know the scenarios, you get some vile child shaving a cats tail with a cut throat whilst punching their newborn sibling and their valiumed to the max mum chirrups 'oh dear, poor Maxy waxy is awfully wawfully tired aren't you darling' tutting endearingly whilst mock whispering to you 'it's awful when they get over tired isn't it?' when said little darling replies with an expletive two word sentence that ends in off and you end up biting your tongue rather then issuing the reply 'if he's so effing tired, why isn't he in bed?'

Despite me providing the context of the exploding mum (in the book the mum was pregnant and so large the boy thought surely she will explode) and reassuring her that mums don't really explode (unless you really piss us off) she declared she couldn't possibly sleep.  Bare in mind The Toddler breastfeeds to sleep and I have to stay in bed with him, even after he's asleep so we had The Toddler working through being tired into hyper manic woo-hooooo overtired (oops, see....i did it again) state whilst I tried to settle Thing Two.  The Husband had tried to settle her first however, she is declaring with increasing frequency as of late that  she 'doesn't like Dad' and 'loves mum more' which makes my internal audience whoop and cheer and the child in me want to poke my tongue out at The Husband (I know I know, although for the record, I never once claimed to be mature) The Husband in lacking in the sympathy gene and tries to totally rationalise away the triggers with good old common sense, distract them then failing that berate the upset out of them which just upsets Thing Two all the more not to mention, like myself, she finds his beard (that I affectionately name 'the roadkill') repulsive.

Thing Two, like myself, is a thinker.  She dwells on negatives despite us providing her with many positive paths of thought to think about.  She bemoaned midst sob that even when she doesn't talk about stuff out loud, she still talks about it in her head and she can't make that shut up and that even when she tries to think of something else she ends up talking about both in her head.  Boy am I glad I'm not a 5 year old.

We then had a fresh round of wailing because when The Toddler is older, the plan is to have him share a room with Thing One and then The Husband will return after many years absence to the marital bed (though only if he has a shave) yet Thing Two was hoping she could move back into my room then and 'Daddy can have my room and paint it black'.  I mentioned that perhaps Daddy might want to share a room with Mummy to which she cried with full wibbling bottom lip and huge saucer wide soaking wet eyes 'that means I'll be the only person sleeping on my own and I don't want to sleep on my own!'

Argh.

See technically although The Toddler obviously loves both his siblings he rather prefers and likes Thing Two more then Thing One.  However, there are 3.5 years between Thing Two and The Toddler and an obvious gender difference versus 5.5 years between Thing One and The Toddler so it's swings and roundabouts with logistics in rooming.

By this point Thing Two has worked through the point of sleepy tiredness and is now in the dreaded realms of wide awake tiredness and is finding excuses for everything i.e I hand her some books to read and she declares she's read them all so many times they're boring.  The Toddler is at the gate going 'Mum. Mum. Mum' I can't sleep until he sleeps and he can't sleep until plugged into the boobs.  Thing Two point blank refuses any comfort from The Husband because 'he's not as nice as you mum'.

Satisfied that there is no more I can do and she's now treading along the line of simply being pesky and no longer actually upset I return to The Toddler and he Husband offers to lie with her then when refused, in a bout of desperation or perhaps mere exasperation he tells her in no uncertain terms to GO TO SLEEP, puts her duvet on and goes downstairs.  My heart broke as I heard her sob, yet within literally a minute it had stopped and was replaced by silence as she had infact, finally, gone to sleep.

Going to the zoo, zoo zoo, what about you?

Nice weather for ducks.  Typically the day of Thing Two's first proper school trip (on a coach and everything...) the wind howls and the skies split open and pour.  Fortunately the school had waterproof suits and we provided wellies so fun was had by all at the Zoo. It probably comes as no surprise that a hoard of 4 and 5 year old enjoyed the zoo however had you been present for Thing Two's special day out last year (as Thing One went to see Iron Maiden) at the same zoo, we shall call the day Zoogate, when you'd have thought we'd taken her to a Maritime Museum or something, she looked far more melancholy then any small child has any business looking.  What should have been a fun day was a huge flop.  Had we actually paid cold hard cash (thank you Tesco clubcard!) I do believe The Husband and I would have had a lot more to say about it, including troll faces and grizzly voices.  You'd never have guessed that Thing Two had actually requested to go there.

So whilst Thing Two had a whale of a time, I sat and festered, still housebound, with rampant paranoia in hideous overdrive envisaging all kinds of awful awful things that could happen to my 'baby girl' whilst on real school trip.

I'm convinced someone is supplying The Toddler with Amphetamines as he was whizzing his proverbial tits off night before last, The Husband is convinced the Oreo biscuits were to blame.  Either way he spent the latter part of the afternoon doing some manic pseudo circuit training that involved much climbing and vaulting of himself from sofa's, rinse and repeat. Bedtime comprised of him putting all his In The Night Garden plushes to 'bed' in a secret code of arrangement uttering 'night night, love you' to each and then growling with frustration when he couldn't quite get the blanket to go the way he wanted.

Thing One had his 'special' day with The Grandparents after school yesterday so Thing Two and I had some time together, leaving The Toddler to walk all over The Husband.  We played lego and then bagsy with the Boden catalogue which is about as close as we'll get to anything Boden, still girls need to dream, neh? We finished up with some colouring however waking up ridiculously early and having a full day out had taken it's toll and she entered the phase of 'over tired' to which patience went on holiday and she had a small tantrum over not being able to colour neat enough and then she went to sulk,... in the dirty washing basket, as you do.

Diet Fail (...again)

See what happens when I'm housebound?  Not only do I eat superfluously and constantly I also bake, a lot.

When The Grandparents are in the country Thing One and Thing Two have a 'special' day each at their house which started before they were school age.  So tonight The Grandparents picked Thing Two up straight from school and tomorrow it will be Thing One's turn.

Not only do they get quality time with The Grandparents without having to compete for attention, they also get some time out away from each other at home so slightly less mayhem and spats here.

It's not often I get one on one time with Thing One as although we adore each other I often fear we're from entirely different planets and he much prefers to be walking miles on end on adventures with The Husband or learning Morbid Angel riffs on his guitar.

So, I waited till he returned home from school to bake today.  Many parents often bake with their young and hats off to them, they obviously have a much higher tolerance level and patience then me.  Usually baking avec les spawn makes me want to lock myself in the bathroom swigging gin from the bottle whilst gibbering in tongues.

 Today we made Oreo cookie cupcakes using this fabulous recipe.  You can't really see but at the bottom of the cupcake is a whole Oreo cookie (the white ones look better this is a double chocolate one)

They are utterly divine and the mere thought of the calorific content gives me the fears.  My willpower is a fickle and weak thing so as always I shall be palming them off on relatives and begging The Husband to eat them whilst I'm sleeping.

The Husband is attempting to teach Thing One how to play with The Toddler as unfortunately the darling child appears to be missing the play gene and has an innate inability to play with toys, always has done.  However Thing Two and The Toddler can amuse themselves with toys independently, spontaneously and thoroughly.  Thing One has to be running (I kid you not we used to nickname him Forrest), play wrestling or watching TV.  All games are physical and without toys which isn't necessarily a bad thing, just rather exhausting to watch and frustrating for himself as he struggles to play alone and other then lining cars up and writing lists his copious amount of toys gather dust..

It's exceedingly amusing watching The Toddler pin and tickle Thing One and a welcome break to not hear him constantly shout and scream at Thing One which is the norm between them. As always though the fun is somewhat getting out of control with their over excitement so operation 'got to keep them seperated' for a while is about to commence as The Husband and Thing One disappear up to my bed to watch a Carry On film on my television and no doubt The Toddler will attach himself to me and feed like the boob junkie he is.

I'm beginning to wonder if The Grandparents have stolen Thing Two.......I'm five minutes away from making the 'where is she and what have you done with my daughter?' call.

Urghhhhh.

This morning I was simply forced to eat a jar (yes, as in a whole one) of chocolate mess for breakfast due to Thing One and Thing Two demolishing the entire box of Honey Shreddies in three days.  Woe is me.

Sometimes it's incredibly hard being a Mum. 

The Toddler just gently cradled one of Thing Two's dolls and brought her over to me, I asked him if he'd give her a kiss to which he said 'URGHHHHH!' and looked positively repulsed by the mere idea.  Needless to say he returned to his current occupation, the time consuming none stop art of wrecking the entire room.  An 85.5cm tall, one boy ball of utter and total destruction. I swear we have carpet somewhere beneath the sea of debris.

The Toddler still doesn't actually 'say' much, so imagine our sheer dismay when despite this he has still grasped and has started utilising the 'why' phenomena, about everything.

In other news I'm inexplicably excited about a bargain steam cleaner that should arrive either tomorrow or the day after.  I'm as undomesticated as they get and yet I'm dreaming of sparkly surfaces.  poor Thing One has eczema and Four out of five of us have asthma so hopefully it should help.

What has become of me?  I used to dream about pvc and debauchery and now it's steam cleaners and cake.

One day my pretties, I'll get a life again.  Honest.

I need to hit the hard stuff I'm afraid.  Pepsi, none of that prissy diet stuff we're talking the real deal, preferably intravenously.

Whispering sweet nothings.....

The Husband: 'If you looked like Holly Willoughby, you wouldn't have a say in it you'd be F**ked all the time'

Me: 'If I looked like Holly Willoughby, I wouldn't be here with you.'

Baking Fail.

On a whim I decided to attempt to make some red velvet jar cakes, having never actually made or tasted red velvet cake or jar cake (yes, you can actually bake cakes in jars how utterly sublime is that?)

Yet despite emptying an entire small tube of red gel food colouring it remained an underwhelming brown.  Definately not at all red.

Never mind, onwards and upwards and all that jazz.  It's amazing what a speck of uncharacteristic optimism can do.

So I managed to make 12 cupcakes and 4 jars of cake.  The cupcakes were quite delectable, super light and fluffy.  However, the same cannot be said about the jarred cake which resembled a chocolate mess albeit a moist, squishy, rich, tasty, chocolate mess.  Having realised they weren't possibly fit, aesthetically, for the original top secret purpose I bunged a load of chocolate marscapone frosting on to them then plonked the lids on.  Thing One adores them, then again he literally inhales his food so that isn't exactly a dependable opinion. 

Back to the drawing board, am torn between admitting defeat and attempting a different type of jar cake.....

Meanwhile Thing Two's pot of melon seems to be thriving.... which will make it all the more devastating for her when they're transplanted outside and subsequently die.  Mayhaps we could buy some watermelons and sneak out one night leaving them outside where the seedlings go?




My ankle is still in pain, not that The Husband cares a jot.  However he was a smidgen more compassionate about my lack of sleep resultant from The Toddler feeding constantly due to teething and/or a growth spurt and 'allowed' me to whale in the bath for a while.  I haven't been out in a week, the cabin fever is mind numbing.  Thing One very helpfully dropped a full bottle of distilled vinegar on my ankle yesterday creating a brand new bruise to decorate the huge old one that still takes up the entire side of one ankle/foot.  Add to this I appear to have the skanky spots of doom devouring my throat I'm not a happy glamper.

Best dash, Thing Two is attractively lifting up her princess dress (complimented by stripy huggalugs on her arms) and pulling down her knickers (yes she remembered to wear some today, small mercies an all that...) to fart at Thing Two who's been howling (yes, literally as in wolf like) constantly just to irritate her.  She first tried to shut him up by throwing a tambourine at his head but that just got her into trouble.

The Toddler is stood next to where I'm sat, feeding (as usual) whilst transfixed to Willy Wonka, so mesmerised that he keeps forgetting to suck and then suckles furiously to catch up.

The room looks like we've been burgled and I must tidy it so The Husband can hoover. I'm half tempted to throw everything into The Toddlers house. If I wiggle when I bend over to do it, he'll be too distracted to care. He's fickle ( simple) like that.

'What happened to tidying your room [Thing Two]?' .... '...Another bomb must have gone off Mum' I have too many sighs and not nearly enough breath.

Be careful what you ask for, darling.

The Husband is an awkward sod.  He ridicules my indecisiveness and yet refuses to give a straight answer to incredibly simple questions or given set choices he will choose something not on offer.  Like tonight,  I issued him with several perfectly acceptable options for tea and yet none suited.  He wittered on about wanting a fry up and sausages, repeatedly, refusing any alternative.  So  being the dutiful wife that I am, he wanted a fry up?  he got one.

To be precise he got 6 sausages, four fried eggs, two slices of fried bread, mushrooms, three potato waffles, two thick rashers of bacon and a shed load of beans.   

Whilst being ever so particular about what he wanted, he neglected to state quantities.  ooops.  His face when presented with it nearly made the sufferance of enduring his perpetual awkwardness worthwhile, nearly.

At least he can't say I'm not obedient or generous.

Oh and just for shits and giggles I sinned...I left the foil cover on the new tub of butter purely to annoy him.  Petty? Moi?

The Tea pot chronicles

For his second birthday last week, one of The Toddlers gifts (from Thing Two) was a tea set.

It's been a major hit and he adores playing with it.

However, I have a problem.  When it comes to new toys that have pieces I'm a tad obsessive.  When Thing One got a toy cooker when he was a toddler I'd spend ages obsessing over the accessories, searching high and low each evening until they were all present and correct places in the exact right places.  When The Toddler got a fabulous wooden double decker bus for Christmas, I'd fixate over the little wooden people even recruiting Thing One and Thing Two each evening to scour the hazard zone also known as our lounge until they were all located and aboard the bus.  This strange compulsive behaviour is especially bemusing considering that I'm actually somewhat of a scruffy bint.

So it starts again, this particular tea set came complete in a rather nifty carrying case, perfect for ensuring all pieces are kept together, just as they should be.  After all, a partial tea set is a particularly crap tea set, no?

On the first day, a spoon went missing.  The green one to be exact.  I could feel that twitch in my chest like the rapid motion of wasp wings as my eyes darted panic ridden around the room yet somehow I managed to sedate my irrational mania with copious amounts of chocolate whilst my inner zen chanted 'there is no spoon....'

It worked.  For a while.  I was absolutely calm...serenity was my new middle name.  Chilled, cool that was me.

Then, the teapot went missing.  Now that I could not ignore, there was no suppressing the frantic anxiety this time, it leap loose like a beast that had been caged and went rabid.  I looked everywhere.  I emptied boxes, tubs draws, his house.  I moved the sofas (& then pretended I hadn't seen all the junk that had accumulated beneath it and pushed the sofa back in place.  No time to sort that out.  There was an AWOL tea pot) Even the recovering of the green spoon wasn't enough to sate my melancholy.

Things became desperate.  The Husband refused to look.  He just doesn't understand, oh the devastating woe of a husband who just doesn't understand! How could he not even be a smidgen perturbed by a missing tea pot?  how on earth can one play tea parties with no blasted tea pot! It absolutely and irrevocably ruined the entire tea set and terminated all future prospects of fun.

So I called in reinforcements.  I set Thing One and Thing Two loose on the case with the promised reward of £1.50 to whoever found it.

Bingo! Thing Two, my super finder of all things missing, found it.  Give the girl a prize, or £1.50 should I say.

So I sat, lovingly placing it all neatly into the case (which The Toddler always grabs as soon as I finish doing this and with a manic grin and a glint of possession in his eyes he twirls the case and throws it's entire contents scattering around the room.  Gah)

Didn't matter though.  I genuinely didn't care because we had the tea pot!

Until that evening.  Somebody help me, the tea pot had no lid.  No lid?! Did you hear me, the tea pot had no lid! So with my heart clenched like an aggravated fist, nostrils flaring, eyes fierce and piercing through the deluge of toys and remnants of three children's daily mess, I set about rampantly rummaging through the entire room.

Total, absolute cataclysm.

I went to bed thinking of teapots.  Not helpful to an insomniac.

However, Thing Two to the rescue.  She found it and it only cost me an extra 50p!

Usually the fixation of completeness wears off.  I hope it happens soon.  I don't think my fragile sanity can take much more of this.

The moral to this tale?  If you are obsessive with pieces, don't buy small children anything that has them.  Ever.

Tutorial: Rainbow Rice

So a few people have asked how to make rainbow rice, it's easy peasy, trust me it would have to be for me to do it as I'm shall we say craft-challenged with a raging Patience deficiency.

So, what do you need?

• Baking sheet with either grease proof paper, newspaper or foil.
• White rice
• Sealable bag
• Hand sanitiser (it smells nicer then rubbing alcohol and you need it to 'set' the dye')
• Food colouring (I used natural green colouring however, more vibrant results are achieved with the none natural kind, moreso with the the gels as they give super vibrant results)

 Put the rice in your sealable bag and add the food colouring and a decent squirt of hand sanitiser.

Get your resident princess to give it a really decent shake and
 squish to coat all the rice

Empty it all out onto your baking tray and spread out.  Leave it to dry, it works great if it's a sunny day you can just put it outside then or you could use your airing cupboard.  If you're super impatient like me you can put it in your oven for about 10-20 mins on around 160-175 degrees.  However keep checking it before it burns!

When it's cool, add to your tub/tray/tin with other colours you've made and let the fun commence.  This would work really well in a large shallow tub, as a sandpit type of play. Draw in it with your fingers, use measuring cups and jugs to pour, drive cars and dinosaurs through it.  You could even make pictures with it and glue it to paper.

The Toddler loves it so much that when he saw me put the tin away today, he cried.  Lots.




You can also dye pasta for a different feel/sound when playing with :

Fashion Police

The Toddler really does have a terrific sense of fashion.......he has a penchant for parading around in his sisters things.

I made a tutu for a friends toddler once and I used The Toddler for size, he looked rather fetching in reams of pink, white and lilac tulle, I had to literally prise it away from him.

Facebook

I appear to have a facebook page....

https://www.facebook.com/ConfessionsOfAStayAtHomeMumBlog

Not quite sure what to actually do with it quite yet but hopefully some of you will join me there too for a touch of interaction.

I must say you're all awfully quiet here on the blog....

Play time

Some time ago in one of those 'I must get off the pc and be a good mother' moments, I decided to try and be more creative with play at home.  I dutifully dyed rice and stored them in three separate jam jars, one for each of the three colours.  Predictably, I then did sod all with them and they've been gathering dust atop the pantry ever since as The Toddler is incredibly happy just pottering around, playing with his toys, having cuddles and being read to.

So today in one of those spontaneous moods that rarely occur and hardly any good ever comes from them I felt somewhat inspired and emptied all the rice together into an empty Cadbury's biscuit tin and plonked it in front of The Toddler who was still in his highchair following dinner.

I must admit there was something quite cathartic and mesmerising about lifting up handfuls of rainbows and letting them slip through your fingers and The Toddler obviously agreed for he was utterly fascinated by it!  We added some measuring cups to scoop and pour etc It was around this time that The Husband saw fit to remove himself from the room getting increasingly twitchy about the mess, oh no the mess! as the rice inevitably ended up on the table..on the floor....etc with the instructions 'YOU can sweep it up afterwards if you're letting him do that' well not too bad a price for the pleasure of seeing the toddler have so much fun.  We'll definitely be doing this again, however I do feel we need more rice, it wasn't really that deep and I feel the urge to add some green rice too.

Thing Two looked rather sorrowful playing outside on her lonesome tonight, so for a change from the chunky bright colourful chalks I crept out and presented her with an ice cream tub full of water and two paintbrushes.  To say she looked bewildered was an understatement. I think for a moment she doubted my sanity, even more so then usual.

The perplexity soon turned into childish intrigue as she saw me 'paint' the path with water and she couldn't wait to have a go.  Another success.  I must admit I love to encourage real childhood pursuits when outside such as chalking, hula hooping and skipping as I fear far too many children these days are cooped up in bedrooms with several games consoles and only go out armed with an iphone.  Though to be honest they don't need much encouragement, they're active little snotlings and adore being outside amongst the sticks, grass and dirt just being children.  Childhood is so precious and so short, if only children realise they have a lifetime to be boring grownups.

Meal planning friday

So today is Friday which is weekly shopping day.  I do the shop online since we don't drive and it helps to keep a track on spending.

As usual I go through adding things to my basket and then spend an excruciating amount of time removing said items trying to feed us and be able to actually pay for said food.  I find it ridiculous that 12-18 months ago we'd buy more and actually pay less.

It's becoming increasingly hard to afford it to be quite frank.  especially seeing as we don't smoke, The Husband rarely drinks and we very rarely buy any treats whatsoever, it really is the basics.

Like many families on a tight budget these days we utilise menu planning to try and ensure we only buy what we need and what will be eaten.  Granted I rarely stick to the days meals and pick whichever one I feel like cooking each day.

So what's for tea next week?

Saturday: Pork steaks in sage & onion crust with savoury rice and large flat garlic mushrooms.
Sunday: White fish in creamy sauce with boiled potatoes and brown bread
Monday: Chicken chop suey
Tuesday: Hot bacon, sausage,  mushroom and potato salad
Wednesday: Enchiladas
Thursday:  Lentil & veg stew with dumplings or Chicken korma
Friday: Sweet chilli & garlic beef with egg fried rice

I should probably mention that the meals are generally for The Husband, The Toddler and myself with Thing One and Thing Two being fussy little sods.  Where did we go wrong?  They used to eat real food when they were weaned!

Feeding time at the zoo

Tonight's feeding time at the zoo (aka tea time) was a typical example of life as our party of five.

Thing Two declared she doesn't like hammock [haddock] and was vexed by the fact that apparently one of her chips didn't have any potato in it.  Yes, really. How very dare it.  Then as usual, once everyone else had finished and she still had over half her meal left, which has as usual gone cold, she turns those saucer wide eyes upon us and whimpers that she has a tummy ache (again) and can't possibly eat anything else.  Funny how she managed to force a banana down once she saw Thing Two (having demolished his tea and tried to cadge everyone elses) be allowed some Easter egg. [Family rules state that after their main course the children have fruit, if they eat their fruit they then get a yogurt and occasionally if there is a treat to be had, they must have eaten all the aforementioned in order to get it]

Thing One assaulted our sanity as per usual with intensely irritating silliness and then tried to gas us all with a huge pump, which of course he denied producing.  The child is toxic.  Seriously, you've never smelled owt like it. Roadkill would smell more pleasant. After shovelling his food down his gullet he then proceeded to knock his cup of water, everywhere.  Poor kid has inherited my clumsiness (the smell however comes from The Husbands side...)

The Toddler threw his plate of food on the floor then proceeded to steal The Husbands, tiny handful by tiny handful pausing only to aid The Husband in making a chip buttie seemingly making the delicate process of arranging chips on bread into some adorable art form.  The banana also had a flying lesson and the yogurt was spat out.  I swear he survives on boobie juice and carpet fluff.

The kitchen resembles a trough that's in the process of making a dirty protest.

Welcome to our world.............

Never eat yellow snow (or licorice penguins)

Anyone that has the unfortunate pleasure of knowing me will recall I have a penguin fetish.  I simply adore penguins.  For my birthday last year The Husband got me balloon penguins.  For Valentines day I got a cuddly penguin/owl hybrid and a penguin jigsaw.  Before children I had a huge cuddly penguin on the bed.

So imagine my internal audience giving a standing ovation when upon returning from Spain The Mother presented me with something that encompasses two of my favourite things.... Haribo's that happened to be....penguins!

After surviving the inner guilt involved in deciding to eat the cute little guys, imagine the overwhelming disgust when I realised they were licorice flavoured.  Yuck.  I mean, really, licorice Haribo? It's simply wrong.To quote a friend they were absolutely 'bogging'.

Questions from a five year old.

Thing Two is overflowing with random questions, so in a bad mummy moment I said maybe she should write down any questions she had and keep them in a book or something.  I don't for a minute want to curb her enthusiasm and inquisitiveness however, I did want a small auditory and mental break from the near Tsunami of questions she unleashed at me, usually whilst I'm in the midst of something!

She then gets to ask me them whilst I sort laundry and nappies out when the bath is running.  Any I don't answer she's going to ask her teacher.  I bet her teacher is going to love me.

So her first list of questions:

1. How many strips of hair do we have?
2. How many pieces of skin do we have?
3. How do we make seeds?
4. How do we grow?
5.Why do we have birthdays?
6. How do w lose things?
7. How do we run out of clothes?
8. How do we get money?
9. How do we design dresses?
10. How do we get poorly?

Our little heart breaker..

When we jovially comment that The Toddler is destined to be a real heart breaker we had no idea that he'd take it so utterly literally.

For Valentines this year I gave The Husband two chocolate hearts wrapped in red foil.  Unfortunately The Husband neglected to take into account the sheer lengths The Toddler could climb, and not to mention the nifty extending arms rivalling Mr Tickles that all toddlers appear to have and two became one as The Toddler proudly tore off the foil and took a big bite.

We admit it was quite amusing and resourceful of him so The Husband but the remaining heart firmly out of reach.

Unfortunately The Toddler appears to have been practising his amazing physical feats and yes, you guessed it.... Nom went the second heart.  Oops.  The Husband doesn't know yet.  he's napping on the bed under the guise of 'watching a film with Thing One'.  Perhaps this will teach him not to bugger off for a nap all the flaming time, especially when I didn't get a nap today due to The Toddler deciding to Poo instead of napping. Did I mention I'm tired?

Love is...

...knocking on a random strangers door and asking if they'd mind you having the pallet in their garden then carrying it home in the rain just because your wife wants it.

Why on earth would I want a pallet? Well..... I've had a corner of the garden that has become a junk patch that originally was supposed to be my 'veggie patch'  However, I'm terminally lazy and the mere thought of having to actually dig it out and prepare it and then have to actually plant things was a tad overwhelming so the idea got waylaid and the patch is now a dumping ground for toys.

I then decided to just buy pots and bags, an easier option however funds aren't exactly in abundance and there's always something much more important to buy like...food.  Apparently feeding The Children is a must.

So, am I actually going anywhere with this?

With any luck the above pallet (and hopefully one or two others) will become one of these.  Nifty, neh?

I know the kids will be positively aglow at the idea of 'growing stuff'.  I am however a gardening virgin and about as green as a ripe banana......this could prove to be a rather interesting endeavour.  I'm naively hoping that I can just plant from seed and you know...leave them there to grow or whatever it is veggies do.  If I have to start faffing and transplanting etc I fear I may give up at the first hurdle.

In other green news, Thing Two's pot of surprises appears to be sprouting another two small shoots....oh Bollocks.  What on earth is one to do with melon seedlings in cold, grey, wet April?