The One with the Eurovision

Last night I watched the second Eurovision semi final!

I can't comment on Tuesday's extravaganza, as I didn't see it. On Tuesday the UK could vote, Last night we couldn't. As Scott Mills commented on BBC3 "I don't need to be impartial tonight, you lot can't vote”.

In light of this remark here's my take on proceedings. 

It’s as mad as a box of frogs!

We had dolly bird twins with two I's - Twiins. Moldavians with foot long black dunces caps on, a sand artist whilst a woman with wings belted out a ballad, a woman swinging a soft brick over her head and 1998 Israeli winner Dana International who strangely didn't look a day older now than when she won in Birmingham 13 years ago.

And at that point we hadn't even got to the homegrown madness that is Jedward!

I fear the UK entry, Blue, may not cut the mustard in the bonkers stakes.

I do love a bit of Eurovision but it's not secret that here in the UK we don't really take it "that" seriously. So as I know I have a lot of readers all over Europe please send me your comments or tweets @RandomHousehold about your thoughts on Eurovision.

Do you take it seriously? Are you having a party on Saturday night? (I'm going to one) Who do you want to win?

Let me know your thoughts. Goes without saying but the random the better!

The One with Two Twirls and a Weight Watchers Magazine

I need to shift some weight! 


And by some I mean a lot. The awful realisation hit me recently when I saw pictures of myself on our recent weekend away to Devon to visit family - on which, by the way, the boy was a star and my fears of treacherous long car journeys were to the most part unfounded. Obviously The Wheels On The Bus had to be employed as did copious amounts of apple rice cakes but all in all we all survived it.


Anyway these pictures. Sis in law 2 (hubby has three sisters - maybe I should change his blog name to Chekhov? - so for the purposes of blog identity I rank them according to birth) lives on a farm and with Spring upon us the lambs were out and gambolling in the field, that's running playfully not playing poker! I had my picture taken feeding them and holding one along with the boy who fell instantly in love with the "ba, ba's" and stroked and fed them too.


On the resulting photograph I am huge and not sure if the poor lamb looks startled because of my novice farming skills or because it was frightened I was going to eat it! 


I can no longer hide behind baby weight or the excuse of "I've just had a baby". I haven't "just had a baby", he's nearly 15 months old. 


The awful truth is that I probably have shifted any excess baby weight but what I am carrying is the overweight body I had before I fell pregnant, and some more!


A combination of body loathing, tiredness and rounds of visiting friends and family have given me opportunity and craving for sweet things. And savoury things. Good things. And bad things. As I explained to my doctor it's not that I don't like my fruit and veg. I love fruit and veg! I love all food, that's my problem. I'll eat anything.


Except lamb! 


The irony!


So on Saturday night I went out for dinner with  one of the boys fairy godmothers. She has in recent years slimmed down to gorgeous proportions. She has done this through watching what she eats and getting off her fabulous butt and dancing, walking and doing yoga to achieve her shape. She's not used Weight Watchers or Slimming World or any of the other options out there but just done it herself.


She still enjoys a glass of wine or a G&T and she still enjoys chocolate. Just in moderation!


Therefore we skipped dessert at the restaurant and walked home via little Tesco's to buy us and our hubbies something sweet to take home.


I got us both a Twirl. I was full and didn't need it but I did it anyway. I totally lack discipline. 


I have in the past lost three stone using Weight Watchers and found the structure of it really useful. It's just this time I've become so used to my treats and biscuits with a cuppa when the boy has a sleep and finishing off the boys tea now he has what we eat and.... oh god I can see how this has happened!


I looked at my friend. She was having a dark chocolate Kit Kat. She looks great. This can be done. I can do it.


I bought a Weight Watchers magazine with my chocolate.


The irony was not lost on me or the late night assistant in the store.


I can do it I told myself as I tucked my goodies in my handbag and folded the magazine under my arm.


Just not on my own.....

The One Where the Boy Walks

We have lift off! 


The boy has turned one small step for boy-kind in several small steps and taken that giant leap into walking around unaided!


He's been furniture surfing since he could pull himself up at 8 months old and on Mother's Day at the start of April he took a couple of steps towards me and from then on would walk if you held his hand but the lack of confidence to let go, coupled with the knowledge that he could cover a lot more ground crawling, made him reluctant to fly solo.


On Friday he made the passage from baby to toddler and walked across Nanny P's lounge. She's got a big lounge my Mum so that was no mean feat (or feet if you want the full pantomime pun) and from then on there's been no stopping him.


I have to say I am so relived. Nothing it would seem brings out the judgemental nature of friends and family like a 13/14 month old who hasn't started walking. I wish I'd had a pound for every time I'd heard "Is that child not walking yet". 


I have, on occasions, been tempted to retort that it's difficult to stand up straight with people on your back all the time but politeness prevented me from such sarcasm! 


Now he is walking, those very same people nod knowingly at you and say "Oh now the fun really begins. He'll be into everything and you'll be run off your feet." 


Charming! If that's the case why have you been on at me to get him to walk! 


But really I don't care. He can explore everything if he wants. I'm just so proud my little man is up and about. Don't touch that darling. Oh mind Nanny's ornaments. Hang on babe you'll bump your head.... 


I see what the well meaning busybodies meant now...


These might be giant steps for a little man but Houston we have a problem....

The One with the Space Hopper

The boy has discovered the great outdoors!


I don't know if it's because Easter is late this year but for a bank holiday weekend we have enjoyed the most glorious weather.

So the boy has been on the swings more times than I can count, had his first, fleeting taste of ice cream in the park (I had an old school 99 cornet so he licked the end of the flake then took a whooping great chunk off it) and spent loads of time in Nanny P's garden crawling around on the grass getting us all to play countless games with balls, hula hoops and a long forgotten and previously redundant Reebok trampoline (a one minute fitness wonder my Mum had that she swore she'd use use but went the same way as the hula hoop - the shed). 

But best of all he's fallen in love with a space hopper. A large, bright green space hopper with a little black face and two sticky up ears to hold onto. I had one as a child, although mine was orange and I used to call it a "hoppy" but regardless of colour or name I loved it too.

Nanny P had got it in a few summers ago for a visiting friend and her little boy so he had something to play with in her garden. She might be fickle with her keep fit equipment but she 's thoughtful like that my Mum. But if the friends lad and my boy happen to be there at the same time my money's on the boy to get in first with the bouncy bundle of boinginess! He has devised a game for it which evokes peels of laughter.

The only trouble is it's knackering!

The boy has the typical balance of a 14 month old. Fine one second and rubbish the next. So you have to position him on the space hopper, get him to grip the ears, then hold onto him for all your worth and bounce boy and hopper up and down across the lawn whilst saying "Boing. Boing. Boing!" repeatedly!

That's bloody tiring in anybodys book but with a dodgy back it's not only inadvisable but virtually impossible.

Enter, and god bless, Granddad G for his tireless grandson bouncing abilities! It's worth it to see the boys beaming smile and hear those infectious giggles but I remember bouncing around my Mum and Dad's garden as a kid unaided so I'm just waiting for the day when the boy can do the same.

And so is his Granddad!!

The One with the Car Journey

Today we took the boy to visit Hubby's relatives in North London.

This involves a 3 hour round trip in a day. This didn't used to be too much of a problem when the boy was younger as he used to sleep a lot more but recently he seems to be happy on a one nap strategy for about 2 hours or so.

This would be fine but the time of the naps seems to be changing from a morning, before lunch, nap to an after lunch one. Then the late afternoon nap has gone altogether. So travelling in the morning so he can have a big sleep and driving home around 4ish so he can kip then used to be a great option.

Today we discovered that this option isn't as great as it used to be!

The boy did sleep on the way there but only for half an hour.

On the way home he didn't sleep at all!

The apple rice cakes pacified him onto the M25 and a short while of the A12 but by the time we reached Chelmsford the snacks had run out and the only thing to quieten the  boy was music.

Hubby wanted the football scores on Radio 5 Live so that meant I had to start singing!

Now, as I have blogged before, we have used songs from the shows to keep the boy from the screaming ab dabs on a car journey but this time "Bali High" and "Shall We Dance" just wouldn't cut it. 

It's amazing how many animals you can come up with for Old MacDonalds farm and the variety of situations with noises you can conjure up for a bus with wheels that go round and round!

Even so I was exhausted and had exhausted all the possibilities about 20 miles later.

The football scores had to be abandoned and Classic FM employed to work miracles. I can't say it has divine properties but the screaming did subside for a while.

Only for a while mind you, so we could be having some very, very long car journey's coming to us this summer!

All together now, The Wheels on the Bus, go round and round.........

The One where Mummy's Got A Headache

Oh dear! For headache read hangover!


On Friday night I had "a bit of a do" at mine with some of the girls from work. What that "do" is and is called (it's "Bunnyfest", well I have it every year around Easter time) is a whole other post in it's own right, but suffice to say it's often a "boozy old do"!


This year was no exception!


We started straight from work, fairly modestly as the boy was up still up having his tea and loving a house full of attentive and pretty ladies (the boy is officially a flirt). Once he'd gone to bed the party really started as corks popped, pizza was cooked and crisps crunched. 


By the time the last reveller had left at 1.30am a lot of fizz had been consumed and I don't mean Panda Pop!


The next morning I was not myself. Who I was I wasn't sure but it wasn't me. Ah I remember who I was now, I was me but before I had the boy. Hung over on a Saturday morning after a night out, or in, with friends and worse than useless.


BTB I could put it away but now my tolerance for alcohol is considerably diminished as indeed is my taste for it. I like a G&T before a meal or a good glass of wine with it or even a brandy afterwards but not , now, all at the same time. It's one or other these days.


Hubby was a star, he'd got up with the boy and given him his milk and breakfast, tidied up, washed up and generally got on with a normal day.


When you're really young it doesn't seem to matter if you waste a day because you've had a bloody good night and don't get me wrong I'd had a bloody good night, but now my days are so precious I don't want to waste them being hung over anymore.


I got up at 9.30am and saw the boy smiling at me with all his expectant hope and innocent wonder at such simple things like a ping pong ball or a stacking cup (that boy is either the easiest audience I've ever had or has a surreal sense of humour as he spent an hour the other day laughing at a spoon) and I had a terrible feeling sweep over me.


Just like the joke where the little boy and all his friends are balloons and he pin pricks them, I'd let hubby down, I'd let the boy down and worst of all I'd let myself down!


I really felt guilty and that I wasn't being a good mum. I wasn't expecting to feel like that. I'm still a human being with friends and entitled to have fun. Hubby was fine, you had a great night he said you deserve it, stop worrying, you weren't sick or falling about or didn't know what you were doing. You didn't even wee yourself, which I can do at a moments notice sober nowadays, so all in all it was a result don't beat yourself up.


And yet what did I do all day...... You can fill in the blanks there.


I searched in the cupboard for Nurofen. It took away the headache but it didn't say anything about Mummy guilt on the box.


Determined not to waste the day I played with the boy, made walnut bread, went to see a matinee of Guys and Dolls at the local theatre and then had friends round for a civilised supper.


Virtue and calm was restored in my brain. 


Back in the day I would've spent the whole day in bed groaning so maybe my tipple tolerance is better than I thought it was.


Or maybe along with the Mummy guilt comes Mummy super powers to just get on with stuff however bad your headache is.... even self inflicted headaches!

The One with the Shameless Self Promotion - MAD Blog Awards

Today is my least favourite day of the year.

I find the day after my birthday frankly dull and mildly depressing. It's like Boxing Day, no presents, loads of leftover stale cake and a hangover!

At least, unlike the real Boxing Day, there wasn't wall to wall sport on TV all day today. Bearing in mind there'd been wall to wall sport on TV all weekend I was grateful for that. I like sport as much as the next man (the next man being my hubby) but after the Grand National, the Grand Prix and the Masters I'm all sported out until next weekend when we have the London Marathon and the World Snooker Championship.

So to cheer myself up I'm going to" big myself up big stylie" (see I'm down with the kids even at my age) and ask you all to nominate me for the MAD (Mum and Dad) Blog Awards 2011.

It might be shameless of me but I'm 41 and 1 day today, I've opened all my parcels, drunk all the champagne, eaten all the chocolates and the one long balloon with two round ones either side have shrivelled up so they no longer look like the proud comedy classic they are and more like an old man on a cold day!

I've been nominated so far in the following categories:

MAD Blogger of the Year
Best MAD Blog Writer
Best New MAD Blog
Best MAD Blog Post of the Year - these two posts have both received nominations but if you like a different one then go for it.


http://thoughtsfromrandomwoman.blogspot.com/2011/01/one-with-sinking-feeling.html


Or


http://thoughtsfromrandomwoman.blogspot.com/2011/02/one-with-last-day-and-physio.html




Best MAD Family Life Blog
Best MAD Blog for Family Fun
Best MAD Baby Blog

http://www.the-mads.com/nominate.htm

I'll leave it up to you but if you do put me forward for one of these you'll make an old woman very happy!

Or a middle aged mother slightly less p'd off......