There are times when I think I've got this motherhood lark down to a fine art and there are other times when I do something so unbelievably naive that I amaze myself!
I took the boy to Tesco. I needed gin. That makes it sound like I'm dependent upon the stuff to function in a normal day. That's not strictly true. Although today I have wanted a G&T since 4.30 this afternoon. A time that roughly coincides with my putting my shopping through the till at Tesco.
I don't often shop at Tesco's due to not agreeing with their programme of world domination and cynical marketing strategy, namely, lets force all the small shopkeepers out of business then move in and open small corner shops of our own!
However I do occasionally pop in and as a result I'd amassed about £30 worth of clubcard points. We were nearly out of gin and Tesco had litre bottles of "Mummy's special medicine" on offer!
For a kick off it was really, really windy and the boy insisted on sticking both legs in one side of the child seat in the trolley! Whilst trying to manoeuvre him to sit straight with one hand I was desperately trying to stop the trolley from being carried off towards the car next to me and denting it. Luckily I'd got one of small handful of parent and child parking spaces on offer so I had some wiggle room.
Once inside, looking windswept and weary before we'd even started, I remembered that Lemon Cake Boy has some cool toy cars from Tesco that my boy loves to play with when we visit. In our local store the toy aisle is just to the left as you enter and this where my naivety came in..
I went there first!
For Mega Blocks sake what was I thinking of?
"Car, car, car, CAR, CAR, CARRRRRRRRRRR!"
"Yes darling, just calm down, Mummy is going to get you some cars."
I started to browse. I use the term loosely as you can't browse with an over excitable toddler in a shopping trolley. I couldn't find the ones I wanted quickly enough before he spotted it. I'd clocked it moments earlier, sitting on the bottom shelf, all red shiny and large.
"Nanu!" he cried "Nanu, nanu, nanu!"
It was a bloody fire engine. I have a house full of bloody fire engines and I wasn't about to buy another one. We'd come for cars and I still had all the rest of my shopping to do.
"Nanu. Nanu. Nanu. NANU. NANUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!"
People were starting to stare. The other day in the park Hubby had a rather terse conversation with a women who insisted our son had a Mork and Mindy fixation and wouldn't believe Nanu referred to the noise a fire engine makes. I was concerned a fellow shopper was going to report me to social services any moment on the grounds of neglect for subjecting my child to DVD's of old 1970's ITV shows. I can imagine it now,
"I realise darts is a pub game your honour but we watch Bullseye because it helps with his mental arithmetic."
Anyway I found the last box of four cars, down a pound to £2.50. Lovely old job as we say in these parts.
The boy was getting more and more stressed and louder and louder as I wheeled him away from the "Nanu".
One of things about motherhood I struggle with most is you can't reason with a 17 month old. Or any month old.
"You have lots of fire engines at home darling" and "Mummy has got you some new cars sweetheart" just doesn't cut it. Neither does "Shut the &*%^ up you're being ungrateful, acting like a spoiled brat and making me look like a sh*t Mum here"
So I didn't say any of them. I just took him down a neutral aisle like towels and bathroom accessories, offered a drink and a snack, stroked his hair and said gently "Calm down darling" over and over. To be fair I'm not normally that controlled but thanks to Hippy Chick Mum and my confidence coaching I'm getting better. It worked. The boy stopped screaming and smiled. Peace was restored.
"Right lets go and get Mummy's gin. Mummy needs gin" Boy did Mummy need gin!
It was here, buoyed with confidence that I'd handled the situation well I made naive rookie error number two.
I gave him the box of cars to hold as we went round.
What in holy mother and baby awards was I thinking now!
The boy didn't want the box. He wanted the cars! He wanted the cars out of the box.
I was bending down to get packets of baby wipes when I heard the first rip.
The boy has the strength of Samson on pro active conditioner and he'd managed to rip apart the cardboard case and pull open the plastic packaging inside. Card, plastic and cars went flying in different directions and scattered over Tescos floor. I scooped them all up whilst smiling wryly at passers by
"He's excited about his new cars!" I said through gritted teeth "Bless him!"
When we got to the till the operator looked at the tangled jumble of toy vehicles and box sailing towards her on the conveyor belt and raised an eyebrow at me,
"Yes sorry about that" I said "My little boy got over excited and wanted the cars to hold."
Silence
"I expect that happens a lot?" I asked
"No. Not really." she replied leaving me feeling like an errant school girl.
Now repeat after me one hundred times
Don't go to the toy aisle until you've done the rest of your shopping.....
Monday, 8 August 2011
Sunday, 7 August 2011
The One with the Chunky Monkey Cake, the Roast Dinner and the Cleaning
The last couple of weeks have been particularly tough for various reasons. Worries about friends, family, my work, Granddad Ah Oh's work and Hubby's work have all come together like buses. Or Nanu's as the boy would say!
We're coming through it and soon I'll be able to tell you more but what I can say at the moment is that I've been surprised by my reaction to it all.
I've come over all house proud!
I've made a list of all the chores that need doing around the home. Nothing unusual about that. I love a list. But I've actually been doing them!
Yesterday I swept floors, did the food shopping, threw out dead flowers and re-arranged the live ones, cleaned the kitchen cupboards, surfaces and sink, made a cake and cooked a roast dinner.
Here's the link for the recipe for Chunky Monkey Cake.
http://www.foodnetwork.co.uk/recipes/yummy-chunky-monkey-cake-ru289832.html
Because I don't think I've ever made a recipe I haven't fiddled with, I replaced three teaspoons of plain flour with cocoa. I only used three bananas, otherwise the mixture is too sloppy. I used milk chocolate chips and instead of walnuts I used dried apricots, but sometimes I use raisins or sultanas, I just didn't have any in because the boy had eaten them all!
I have a cup of tea and a slice by my side as I type.
The boy helped me. Well in as much as he stood and watched as I explained each stirring, whisking, chopping, bowl scraping process and shouted "cake, cake, cake" at me assuming that it would magically appear like the shopkeeper in Mr Benn. It's very hard to get a 17 month old to understand it takes 45 minutes to cook at Gas mark 5!
After the boy had gone to bed I did roast chicken for mine and hubby's dinner with a very drinkable glass of Pinot Grigio (or two!)
Bless hubby, after all that activity he washed up what the dishwasher wouldn't take.
I have no idea if this flurry of cleaning, tidying, cooking and general housewifery will last but I'm finding it all very strange.
For Christ sake I even did some ironing!
Things must be bad!
We're coming through it and soon I'll be able to tell you more but what I can say at the moment is that I've been surprised by my reaction to it all.
I've come over all house proud!
I've made a list of all the chores that need doing around the home. Nothing unusual about that. I love a list. But I've actually been doing them!
Yesterday I swept floors, did the food shopping, threw out dead flowers and re-arranged the live ones, cleaned the kitchen cupboards, surfaces and sink, made a cake and cooked a roast dinner.
Here's the link for the recipe for Chunky Monkey Cake.
http://www.foodnetwork.co.uk/recipes/yummy-chunky-monkey-cake-ru289832.html
Because I don't think I've ever made a recipe I haven't fiddled with, I replaced three teaspoons of plain flour with cocoa. I only used three bananas, otherwise the mixture is too sloppy. I used milk chocolate chips and instead of walnuts I used dried apricots, but sometimes I use raisins or sultanas, I just didn't have any in because the boy had eaten them all!
I have a cup of tea and a slice by my side as I type.
The boy helped me. Well in as much as he stood and watched as I explained each stirring, whisking, chopping, bowl scraping process and shouted "cake, cake, cake" at me assuming that it would magically appear like the shopkeeper in Mr Benn. It's very hard to get a 17 month old to understand it takes 45 minutes to cook at Gas mark 5!
After the boy had gone to bed I did roast chicken for mine and hubby's dinner with a very drinkable glass of Pinot Grigio (or two!)
Bless hubby, after all that activity he washed up what the dishwasher wouldn't take.
I have no idea if this flurry of cleaning, tidying, cooking and general housewifery will last but I'm finding it all very strange.
For Christ sake I even did some ironing!
Things must be bad!
Sunday, 31 July 2011
The One with the Chinese Whispers
Friday night was an NCT girlie night out!
Much needed and now most of us are back at work we don't get the opportunity to get together as much as we would like, either with or without our little ones, so they are much missed.
Two couldn't make it due to family commitments and illness but otherwise it was a fine turnout. It's easier to get into the White House than it is to get eight busy working Mum's together so six of us was good going.
The last time we went out the gin and secrets flowed so we decided this time food might be in order to soak up the booze!
So we went for a Chinese meal.
The feast was gorgeous, the gin and wine flowed again, the company was beautiful, inspiring and as always wonderfully supportive. We talked about our children sure but we also talked about us, our work, our families, our troubles and then our... hmm hmm ...nether regions!
It is a truth universally acknowledged that when a group of women get together and there is any kind of drink involved, the conversation will always turn to an intimate nature. But amazingly it wasn't about lack of control, sensitivity or peeing when you run, this was about "adornments"!
One of us got the ball rolling with a piercing but that was soon trumped by a revelation about not one but two tattoos!
What amazed me was the girlfriend in question, when she told us she had something written "down there" (yes actual text), whispered the expression "lady garden"! What a wonderfully coy and old fashioned term to use when you're the kind of gutsy girl to have your Fru Fru tattooed in the first place! Personally I think it's genius. You're never without something to read and I love having something to read on me.
Of course me being me didn't carry on the Chinese whisper theme and said in my fog horn voice,
"Lady garden? What you really mean is you're got writing on your fanny! That brings a whole new meaning to the expression "bedtime reading".
We laughed. Because we always do when we are together and because I have discovered that nothing bonds eight women more than having babies within six weeks of each other.
If we hadn't have joined NCT we'd have never met. Myself and Lady Garden Lady especially would've had no reason too. She's the youngest, I'm the oldest. Our worlds just wouldn't have crossed. Yet I love her more than I can say and she makes me laugh more than I could've imagined.
They all do. And I wouldn't be without them for the world. Even if only for the fact that I now know at least one of them has always got something on her for me to read......
Much needed and now most of us are back at work we don't get the opportunity to get together as much as we would like, either with or without our little ones, so they are much missed.
Two couldn't make it due to family commitments and illness but otherwise it was a fine turnout. It's easier to get into the White House than it is to get eight busy working Mum's together so six of us was good going.
The last time we went out the gin and secrets flowed so we decided this time food might be in order to soak up the booze!
So we went for a Chinese meal.
The feast was gorgeous, the gin and wine flowed again, the company was beautiful, inspiring and as always wonderfully supportive. We talked about our children sure but we also talked about us, our work, our families, our troubles and then our... hmm hmm ...nether regions!
It is a truth universally acknowledged that when a group of women get together and there is any kind of drink involved, the conversation will always turn to an intimate nature. But amazingly it wasn't about lack of control, sensitivity or peeing when you run, this was about "adornments"!
One of us got the ball rolling with a piercing but that was soon trumped by a revelation about not one but two tattoos!
What amazed me was the girlfriend in question, when she told us she had something written "down there" (yes actual text), whispered the expression "lady garden"! What a wonderfully coy and old fashioned term to use when you're the kind of gutsy girl to have your Fru Fru tattooed in the first place! Personally I think it's genius. You're never without something to read and I love having something to read on me.
Of course me being me didn't carry on the Chinese whisper theme and said in my fog horn voice,
"Lady garden? What you really mean is you're got writing on your fanny! That brings a whole new meaning to the expression "bedtime reading".
We laughed. Because we always do when we are together and because I have discovered that nothing bonds eight women more than having babies within six weeks of each other.
If we hadn't have joined NCT we'd have never met. Myself and Lady Garden Lady especially would've had no reason too. She's the youngest, I'm the oldest. Our worlds just wouldn't have crossed. Yet I love her more than I can say and she makes me laugh more than I could've imagined.
They all do. And I wouldn't be without them for the world. Even if only for the fact that I now know at least one of them has always got something on her for me to read......
Friday, 29 July 2011
The One with the Spa Day
Last week was a bad week! For a variety of reasons!
But at least when Friday came I had a spa day booked with my Mum. A day of rest, relaxation and pampering and after the week I'd had I needed it.
We arrived early, donned our white fluffy robes and spent the first part of the morning chatting, drinking tea and sharing muffins. I know we were supposed to be doing something healthy like swimming lengths or sweating our bums off in the sauna but hey this was a day off! No work, no chores, no boy to tempt into eating sweet potato and chicken I'd lovingly prepared and he then throws on the floor, no CBeebies and no singing endless verses of "This Old Man he played...whatever number you care to think of and make up a rhyme for because I can't remember the words".
Once we moved into the main health spa we started off with the hydro pool. This is a small swimming pool, with bubbly edges like a Jacuzzi and then a three pronged water fall effect at the other end, where you can stand underneath the pounding jets of water and have your back and shoulders pummelled. I had a quick pummel. It was like someone sticking wet knives in the knots in my shoulders. Amazingly it felt good.
We then went on to have a swim and a proper Jacuzzi. You hear some terrible scare mongering stories about Jacuzzis but I tried not to think about it as I let the hot bubbles burst across my back. I could feel the stress of the last few days melting away in the heat of the water.
Mum has high blood pressure so the sauna and steam rooms are out for her but she was happy to have a lie down on a sun lounger while I went off to feel the burn.
I started slowly with the aromatherapy room, which is a gentle, mild heat and has a, frankly hypnotic, colour changing glass pyramid that I couldn't take my eyes off. The scents also change, from camomile to eucalyptus to lavender. In hindsight it smelt like an old ladies knickers but at the time the combination of slowly changing colours and the heady smell, coupled with the heat made me slightly trippy and I liked it!
Next I tried the sauna!
Now for some reason which I will never fully be able to explain I thought the sauna was empty and again for some reason and I have no idea why, I decided to start singing "Get Your Freak On" as I entered the sauna.
It wasn't empty!
There was a lone chap in there and by the sweat pouring off his ample body I guessed he'd been in there some time. Maybe a little too long. He was hot and not in a good way. I don't know whether he heard my appalling white, middle aged attempts at a rap song by Missy Elliot but there was that awful silence in the time that elapses when if he walks out too soon it'll look rude but he quite clearly feels uncomfortable now I'm in here so has to stay for a bit.
To fill the time he felt was sufficient to stay before he could legitimately leave he didn't just lay still and sweat. Oh no! He decided it would be a good idea to do some exaggerated yoga style stretches which involved him lifting his bottom off the bench and thrusting his middle to nether regions up towards the ceiling. He was wearing garish white , long swim shorts with large green flowers on and he wasn't a small man. I sat transfixed and relieved that my snatch of singing wasn't the most embarrassing thing that had happened in that sauna all day.
Just thank goodness my Mum missed it, with her high blood pressure she'd have never coped!
When I came out there was an Aqua Aerobics class going on in the main pool, the music was pounding and it was hard to hear
"A guy in the sauna was doing the plank" I told Mum
"Doing WHAT?" shouted my Mum over the din.
"No not THAT! PLANK!"
Over lunch I explained the yoga move plank before Mum's blood pressure shot up again!
After lunch we had treatments booked. Back, neck and shoulder massage, manicure and pedicure.
The whole day had been lovely.
On the way home we did what women do when they get together, enjoy each other's company in a relaxing and tranquil setting and bond and connect as females.
We discussed everyone else we'd seen in the spa all day and systematically pulled them apart.
"Did you see the size of that women getting out of the pool? She was like a beached whale"
"And what about the girl nearly wearing that pink bikini?"
"They weren't real for a start!"
"The bottom half of her body bore no resemblance to the top half. She had a tiny waist and legs but enormous boobs. She looked like one of those kids books where you flip half the page over and get a different head on a different body."
We drove home laughing and content that our own bodies were no where near as bad as we thought they were.
The sights you see when you haven't got your gun, hey!
But at least when Friday came I had a spa day booked with my Mum. A day of rest, relaxation and pampering and after the week I'd had I needed it.
We arrived early, donned our white fluffy robes and spent the first part of the morning chatting, drinking tea and sharing muffins. I know we were supposed to be doing something healthy like swimming lengths or sweating our bums off in the sauna but hey this was a day off! No work, no chores, no boy to tempt into eating sweet potato and chicken I'd lovingly prepared and he then throws on the floor, no CBeebies and no singing endless verses of "This Old Man he played...whatever number you care to think of and make up a rhyme for because I can't remember the words".
Once we moved into the main health spa we started off with the hydro pool. This is a small swimming pool, with bubbly edges like a Jacuzzi and then a three pronged water fall effect at the other end, where you can stand underneath the pounding jets of water and have your back and shoulders pummelled. I had a quick pummel. It was like someone sticking wet knives in the knots in my shoulders. Amazingly it felt good.
We then went on to have a swim and a proper Jacuzzi. You hear some terrible scare mongering stories about Jacuzzis but I tried not to think about it as I let the hot bubbles burst across my back. I could feel the stress of the last few days melting away in the heat of the water.
Mum has high blood pressure so the sauna and steam rooms are out for her but she was happy to have a lie down on a sun lounger while I went off to feel the burn.
I started slowly with the aromatherapy room, which is a gentle, mild heat and has a, frankly hypnotic, colour changing glass pyramid that I couldn't take my eyes off. The scents also change, from camomile to eucalyptus to lavender. In hindsight it smelt like an old ladies knickers but at the time the combination of slowly changing colours and the heady smell, coupled with the heat made me slightly trippy and I liked it!
Next I tried the sauna!
Now for some reason which I will never fully be able to explain I thought the sauna was empty and again for some reason and I have no idea why, I decided to start singing "Get Your Freak On" as I entered the sauna.
It wasn't empty!
There was a lone chap in there and by the sweat pouring off his ample body I guessed he'd been in there some time. Maybe a little too long. He was hot and not in a good way. I don't know whether he heard my appalling white, middle aged attempts at a rap song by Missy Elliot but there was that awful silence in the time that elapses when if he walks out too soon it'll look rude but he quite clearly feels uncomfortable now I'm in here so has to stay for a bit.
To fill the time he felt was sufficient to stay before he could legitimately leave he didn't just lay still and sweat. Oh no! He decided it would be a good idea to do some exaggerated yoga style stretches which involved him lifting his bottom off the bench and thrusting his middle to nether regions up towards the ceiling. He was wearing garish white , long swim shorts with large green flowers on and he wasn't a small man. I sat transfixed and relieved that my snatch of singing wasn't the most embarrassing thing that had happened in that sauna all day.
Just thank goodness my Mum missed it, with her high blood pressure she'd have never coped!
When I came out there was an Aqua Aerobics class going on in the main pool, the music was pounding and it was hard to hear
"A guy in the sauna was doing the plank" I told Mum
"Doing WHAT?" shouted my Mum over the din.
"No not THAT! PLANK!"
Over lunch I explained the yoga move plank before Mum's blood pressure shot up again!
After lunch we had treatments booked. Back, neck and shoulder massage, manicure and pedicure.
The whole day had been lovely.
On the way home we did what women do when they get together, enjoy each other's company in a relaxing and tranquil setting and bond and connect as females.
We discussed everyone else we'd seen in the spa all day and systematically pulled them apart.
"Did you see the size of that women getting out of the pool? She was like a beached whale"
"And what about the girl nearly wearing that pink bikini?"
"They weren't real for a start!"
"The bottom half of her body bore no resemblance to the top half. She had a tiny waist and legs but enormous boobs. She looked like one of those kids books where you flip half the page over and get a different head on a different body."
We drove home laughing and content that our own bodies were no where near as bad as we thought they were.
The sights you see when you haven't got your gun, hey!
Monday, 18 July 2011
The One with the Nanu's!
The boy has become obsessed with fire engines!
He obviously can't say fire engine yet so to exclaim his pleasure at seeing one, or anything that remotely resembles one, he makes the noise of a fire engine, "Nanu, Nanu, Nanu".
This he does over and over and over again!
So obsessed is he by them that he now thinks all trucks, lorries, big vans, dustcarts and diggers are in-fact "Nanu's". They don't even need to be red!
Monday is bin day and I have never seen anyone as distraught as the boy today calling "Nanu, Nanu", like something out of "Mork and Mindy", after the dustmen and their lorry as they drove down the road after collecting our rubbish. I tried to explain that short of smothering a blaze in old yogurt pots and baked bean cans they would struggle to put out many fires.
The boy took no notice. Mainly for two reasons. 1, he's 16 months old and hadn't got a clue what I was on about and 2, I'm not red with a blue flashing light on my head and I don't go "Nanu, Nanu" and frankly until I do I might as well not exist at the moment.
To try and pacify his disappointment that the dustmen didn't come with hose and helmet (and lets face it we're all disappointed at that) and to channel this new craze I took the boy to Mothercare to buy a big red fire engine to play with.
When we arrived I got distracted by Clark's sale and ended up getting him two pairs of shoes in the sale, but after this minor diversion he spotted it.
Bright and shiny and red, with an extendable ladder, flashing lights, two little fire fighters and best of all a "Nanu, Nanu" sound to press over and over and over again.
He had to hold it in the car on the way home and even though we only live no more than ten minutes away he was mightily frustrated that he couldn't get it out of the box.
Toys are so bound up with wires and bits of plastic and cardboard now you need a degree in engineering just to get the box open but as soon as we got indoors I had to try and rip apart the packaging, which isn't easy to do with an over excited toddler standing over you shouting "Nanu, Nanu, Nanu" in your ear.
Eventually we freed the "Nanu" from it's cardboard prison ready to fight fires, knock down piles of bricks and rescue a sleepy and reluctant Oscar from the armchair.
We spent the rest of the morning happily playing and after lunch the boy went for a nap. After an hour and half I thought he'd woken up. It's not unlike him, an hour and half is a good nap for the boy, but all I heard over the monitor was;
"Nanu!"
Just once, perfectly clearly, as if he were wide awake. Then silence. I went in to check on him, he'd turned over and gone back to sleep with a dreamy smile on his face.
I now believe the boy is dreaming of fire engines too.
And why not? After all it runs in the family.
I've been dreaming about firemen for years.....
He obviously can't say fire engine yet so to exclaim his pleasure at seeing one, or anything that remotely resembles one, he makes the noise of a fire engine, "Nanu, Nanu, Nanu".
This he does over and over and over again!
So obsessed is he by them that he now thinks all trucks, lorries, big vans, dustcarts and diggers are in-fact "Nanu's". They don't even need to be red!
Monday is bin day and I have never seen anyone as distraught as the boy today calling "Nanu, Nanu", like something out of "Mork and Mindy", after the dustmen and their lorry as they drove down the road after collecting our rubbish. I tried to explain that short of smothering a blaze in old yogurt pots and baked bean cans they would struggle to put out many fires.
The boy took no notice. Mainly for two reasons. 1, he's 16 months old and hadn't got a clue what I was on about and 2, I'm not red with a blue flashing light on my head and I don't go "Nanu, Nanu" and frankly until I do I might as well not exist at the moment.
To try and pacify his disappointment that the dustmen didn't come with hose and helmet (and lets face it we're all disappointed at that) and to channel this new craze I took the boy to Mothercare to buy a big red fire engine to play with.
When we arrived I got distracted by Clark's sale and ended up getting him two pairs of shoes in the sale, but after this minor diversion he spotted it.
Bright and shiny and red, with an extendable ladder, flashing lights, two little fire fighters and best of all a "Nanu, Nanu" sound to press over and over and over again.
He had to hold it in the car on the way home and even though we only live no more than ten minutes away he was mightily frustrated that he couldn't get it out of the box.
Toys are so bound up with wires and bits of plastic and cardboard now you need a degree in engineering just to get the box open but as soon as we got indoors I had to try and rip apart the packaging, which isn't easy to do with an over excited toddler standing over you shouting "Nanu, Nanu, Nanu" in your ear.
Eventually we freed the "Nanu" from it's cardboard prison ready to fight fires, knock down piles of bricks and rescue a sleepy and reluctant Oscar from the armchair.
We spent the rest of the morning happily playing and after lunch the boy went for a nap. After an hour and half I thought he'd woken up. It's not unlike him, an hour and half is a good nap for the boy, but all I heard over the monitor was;
"Nanu!"
Just once, perfectly clearly, as if he were wide awake. Then silence. I went in to check on him, he'd turned over and gone back to sleep with a dreamy smile on his face.
I now believe the boy is dreaming of fire engines too.
And why not? After all it runs in the family.
I've been dreaming about firemen for years.....
Saturday, 16 July 2011
The One with the Umbrella and the Toilet
The rampant seagulls are still terrorising the car park at work. The baby gull is now born and extremely cute but this means Brian and Sharon have now recruited helpers to guard all entrances, exits and security camera posts. It's literally excess no areas. As a result I'm parking further up the road.
But yesterday the main drain backed up and all our toilets in the office started to overflow. They were out of order for most of the day so the only option was to go across to our other office, which is situated at the edge of the car park, and use theirs.
This meant crossing quite a busy road and braving Brian and co!
I am acutely aware that calling the birds Brian and Co makes them sound like 70's dance sensation Legs and Co from Tops of the Pops. To be fair they probably have the same amount of grace, charm and co-ordination. I'm sure at some point Legs and Co dressed up as birds for one of their numbers, no doubt for a track by Wings!
The only thing that seems to deter Brian and Co is waving an open umbrella in the air. Someone has taken to attaching a stone to the end of their tie and swinging it over their head Tarzan style but that does seem a trifle extreme.
So off we trotted, like girls always do when going to the loo, in gangs of three, holding our umbrellas aloft in the bright sunshine just to go and pee.
What on earth the assorted vans drivers and motorists made of this spectacle is beyond me!
Needless to say fluid consumption was down in the afternoon as frankly neither I, Ken nor Byron could be arsed to keep taking a ten minute round trip to tiddle.
Even though I was gasping I turned down several offers of a cup of tea.
It's bad enough with all the paraphernalia that ladies have to take to the loo sometimes without having to bring a brolly as well!
But yesterday the main drain backed up and all our toilets in the office started to overflow. They were out of order for most of the day so the only option was to go across to our other office, which is situated at the edge of the car park, and use theirs.
This meant crossing quite a busy road and braving Brian and co!
I am acutely aware that calling the birds Brian and Co makes them sound like 70's dance sensation Legs and Co from Tops of the Pops. To be fair they probably have the same amount of grace, charm and co-ordination. I'm sure at some point Legs and Co dressed up as birds for one of their numbers, no doubt for a track by Wings!
The only thing that seems to deter Brian and Co is waving an open umbrella in the air. Someone has taken to attaching a stone to the end of their tie and swinging it over their head Tarzan style but that does seem a trifle extreme.
So off we trotted, like girls always do when going to the loo, in gangs of three, holding our umbrellas aloft in the bright sunshine just to go and pee.
What on earth the assorted vans drivers and motorists made of this spectacle is beyond me!
Needless to say fluid consumption was down in the afternoon as frankly neither I, Ken nor Byron could be arsed to keep taking a ten minute round trip to tiddle.
Even though I was gasping I turned down several offers of a cup of tea.
It's bad enough with all the paraphernalia that ladies have to take to the loo sometimes without having to bring a brolly as well!
Thursday, 14 July 2011
The One Where We Visit My Work
For weeks now my work colleagues have been saying bring the boy into the office one day for a quick visit.
Several of them haven't seen him for a while and they liked the idea of him coming in, running around, causing havoc for 20 minutes or so and then clearing off again.
Well it breaks up the day doesn't it.
So this afternoon we made a flying visit to my work. In hindsight it probably wasn't the wisest thing to do as the boy hadn't had his usual two hour nap. He'd fallen asleep whilst driving home from Jingles class this morning and Hubby and I weren't successful in getting him from car to cot without him waking up. I reckon he'd had 15 minutes kip tops!
I thought I'd try to get him to sleep again after lunch but I still had no luck, so needing a supermarket near to my work, I bundled him into the car for an adventure!
After clearing reception and buzzing in I set him down to run towards an unsuspecting office of people trying to do some work. Or at least look like they were if any directors were watching!
We really wanted to see Ken, as she's one of the boys Godmothers, but she was in a meeting so my intended 15 minutes stop soon turned to half an hour!
One thing I've had confirmed to me today is he's not shy my boy!
He made himself right at home. First he zoned in on a desk decorated for a chap getting married this Saturday. It was festooned with balloons and streamers!
"Ball. Ball. Ball" the boy demanded. Anything round in his mind is a ball. One of the balloons popped loudly as it was being detached from it's sellotape. He didn't even flinch!
Next thing I knew he had been presented with two balloons which he then held to his chest proudly and declared
"Muma?"
I thought Byron was going to fall off her chair from laughing.
Next he decided to explore the copy room. Several times. Barbie tried closing the door but the boy found a way through.
I stopped to talk to someone for a second, I lost sight of him. It was ok he was just hurtling towards the accounts department brandishing my calculator like some sort of manic mini number cruncher.
He nipped behind a directors desk. He ran into the boardroom. He sat on a swivel chair and twirled around whilst holding a pencil my boss had given him.
Despite his lack of sleep he smiled, laughed, charmed, bewitched and beguiled everyone.
He ran me ragged!
It was remarked upon, more than once, that I must be kept fit by all this chasing around and now the boy is sturdy on his feet I should expect a nice slim figure to emerge. I have to admit given those frantic 30 minutes I mused to myself why I'm not a size 8?
After we left I was exhausted and the boy still seemed no nearer a sleep, not even with the motion of the car. We stopped off at the Asda close by. I was frazzled and hungry. Bags of Cadburys Chocolate Fingers were on offer for £1.
I think there I have the answer to my question and you can guess the rest......
Several of them haven't seen him for a while and they liked the idea of him coming in, running around, causing havoc for 20 minutes or so and then clearing off again.
Well it breaks up the day doesn't it.
So this afternoon we made a flying visit to my work. In hindsight it probably wasn't the wisest thing to do as the boy hadn't had his usual two hour nap. He'd fallen asleep whilst driving home from Jingles class this morning and Hubby and I weren't successful in getting him from car to cot without him waking up. I reckon he'd had 15 minutes kip tops!
I thought I'd try to get him to sleep again after lunch but I still had no luck, so needing a supermarket near to my work, I bundled him into the car for an adventure!
After clearing reception and buzzing in I set him down to run towards an unsuspecting office of people trying to do some work. Or at least look like they were if any directors were watching!
We really wanted to see Ken, as she's one of the boys Godmothers, but she was in a meeting so my intended 15 minutes stop soon turned to half an hour!
One thing I've had confirmed to me today is he's not shy my boy!
He made himself right at home. First he zoned in on a desk decorated for a chap getting married this Saturday. It was festooned with balloons and streamers!
"Ball. Ball. Ball" the boy demanded. Anything round in his mind is a ball. One of the balloons popped loudly as it was being detached from it's sellotape. He didn't even flinch!
Next thing I knew he had been presented with two balloons which he then held to his chest proudly and declared
"Muma?"
I thought Byron was going to fall off her chair from laughing.
Next he decided to explore the copy room. Several times. Barbie tried closing the door but the boy found a way through.
I stopped to talk to someone for a second, I lost sight of him. It was ok he was just hurtling towards the accounts department brandishing my calculator like some sort of manic mini number cruncher.
He nipped behind a directors desk. He ran into the boardroom. He sat on a swivel chair and twirled around whilst holding a pencil my boss had given him.
Despite his lack of sleep he smiled, laughed, charmed, bewitched and beguiled everyone.
He ran me ragged!
It was remarked upon, more than once, that I must be kept fit by all this chasing around and now the boy is sturdy on his feet I should expect a nice slim figure to emerge. I have to admit given those frantic 30 minutes I mused to myself why I'm not a size 8?
After we left I was exhausted and the boy still seemed no nearer a sleep, not even with the motion of the car. We stopped off at the Asda close by. I was frazzled and hungry. Bags of Cadburys Chocolate Fingers were on offer for £1.
I think there I have the answer to my question and you can guess the rest......
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