Mummy cuddles

Mummy cuddles, originally uploaded by Little Nut Tree.

This is the girls watching Peppa Pig at the end of the day today.

I got home from work and took Rowan to the shop. When we got back Peppa Pig had already been on TV and so we put a DVD on for 15 minutes.

Honestly - I know I go about this but it is ‘drug-like’ in it’s effect.

They go limp like lettuce and gawp at the telly for as long as it plays.

It’s like TV Valium for children. Well my children at least.

What *is* nice … is I get to sit there (here in fact - right where I am now - there in this picture) for 15 minutes and have nice cuddles and a relax before the onslaught of bath time…. ah the peace…..

(Click picture for extra notes on Flickr…)

For my sister

You cram so much into this life of yours. So incredibly busy and full, yet a message of love & loss and longing that is to be seen in every nook and cranny of every family. The not so universal is your grace in learning to allow yourself to flow forward with life’s current while trailing a finger behind in the water.

You can do it x

Family Day

Good day today - in fact the whole Easter thing has been pretty good. We haven’t lazed around really. We’ve both found the time to get a lie in - which was wonderful and we got the house cleaned up a bit. Tomorrow should involve some measuring up and a trip to B&Q - which lets face it - kinda makes it Easter (none of this religion nonsense)

Also - we’ve managed to fit in holiday with family. The girls came over with Max and we had a really nice time. That sounds really lame but actually it was lovely.

Merry and Joey couldn’t come unfortunately which left a bit of a hole in the day. But the weather was gorgeous .. Lincoln totally behaved itself - there was no foul people hanging around with beer cans - although actually of course, there were - but they kept themselves to themselves and we didn’t have to listen to them.

We made our way to Lincoln Castle through the Arboretum - had a great run around and when we got to the Castle there was a .. a thing. People dressed up and making things and being all like Robin Hoody… except Robin Hood wasn’t there.. it was a thing.. you know. A thing.

I have no idea what you call these things. They were all camping there - all kids and folk and they were kind of making shields and bags and slippers and capes and bread and stuff… just lots of stuff.

It was good. Really good. Right down to the rolling on the grass verges.. I didn’t actually partake in the rolling down the hills but it did remind me of times when I did.. which was good.

Some photies

All the Girls - Maddy, Fran, Rowan and Amelie at Lincoln Castle

The Campy Goodness of the Camp thing.

Some Lovin’ Between Cousins.. In a good way!

Lock ‘em in the Dungeon!!

Oh the Grinding of the Flour!

(We had a mini Rowan moment when she was eventually dragged away from the flour grinding to see the rest of the camp - she was not impressed!!)

The kind of thing my mum did.. Bad Language I warn you.

It was when I was 15 or 16 I realised I WAS the absolute dog’s bollocks.

I was cool. Hey, I was 16. I was the smartest.. the most smart mouthed, cheeky, answering back, sarcastic and probably disagreeable little pubescent girl in my house.

My parents were pretty strict. They had rules and regulations. Some I understood and some I didn’t. They had a lifestyle planned out for us that we were expected to adhere to.

We would work hard, do well at school, get good marks, get good exam results, get good jobs, be self sufficient, independent women. And Rich

We lived in a village, just outside .. about 3 miles outside the nearest town. Just recently I’ve found out that this was strategically planned to control us as children (and teenagers) with minimum enforcement required on their part. They knew that as we were growing up and going out (as non drivers) that we would require their assistance in order to get anywhere… because we were in the middle of fucking nowhere!! .. and more importantly.. get BACK from anywhere. Late at night. When you don’t want to spend money on cabs!

Hence.. the clever bastards.. they always got to take us to and pick us up to wherever and from wherever we were.

Genius. They always knew where we were. And we didn’t even guess really. Or should I say.. I didn’t. I am too trusting. As we all know.

Anyway.

They weren’t the kind of parents that promoted ‘out of grounds’ activity really. They were home oriented. Still are. They love being at home, with each other and were quite happy to have all their family around them. I had a job round the corner at the local pub. I didn’t really have my rebellious stage until about 3 years later so I was pretty well behaved at this time.

I didn’t watch things on TV that they didn’t want me to. I did my homework. Usually. I didn’t drink. I didn’t go places that I wasn’t supposed to. I wasn’t out doing rude things with boys. Much. I didn’t swear… at home..!

My parents had a very particular position on swearing. We didn’t do it.

I think I managed to sneak out a ‘bloody’ now and again when either one of them was in a particularly good mood but generally speaking… it just wasn’t acceptable for us to swear. Ever.

It was an unspoken rule. They didn’t swear. I don’t ever remember asking.. ‘Hey, why don’t you swear?’ It was just fact. They didn’t do it. And you knew that you didn’t do it either.

Something about never hearing someone swear.. just kind of means you don’t either. When you’re with them. Of course.. at school/college.. I was cool! I swore like a trooper.

So one day.. my mum and I were having a raging argument discussion and the yells shouts and screams sensibly discussed points were firing sailing backward and forward in a pubescent parental kind of way that we all remember (or are living right now!)

“Oh.. why don’t you JUST FUCK OFF!!!!!!” I suddenly retorted.

And that was it. It was that moment I knew my life was over as I knew it.

At least for the forseeable future. You just didn’t yell FUCK OFF at my parents.

Not if you wanted to live.

Not if you valued your life in any way - shape - or form.

My mum yelled in situations like this. She involved my dad (ever weary at the female arguments in the house, he would always take mum’s side in whatever was happening.. basically because he just didn’t want to be bothered with it.. and that was far easier for him to do.. I kind of understand that looking back on it now)

So. This was it. There would be shouting. There would be door slamming. There would be punishment. There would be screaming. Probably a slap. Recriminations for days.

Or so I thought.

I closed my eyes ready for the onslaught of hysteria, yelling, reprimanding and general blood bath… but no.

“oooohh FUCK OFF” she mimicked with a smirk on her face.. An extremely mischievous smirk that instantly had my dana puckering in a way that was not entirely pleasant..

My stomach sank as I realised that this … This.was.not.good.

Humour in this kind of situation only means one thing to the child. You lose.

“You want me to fuck off? Why don’t you fuck off? Fuck off back to your fucking room and come fucking back when you’re ready to have a fucking adult conversation.” she replied in a sing song tone that spelled utter misery and pending humiliation for me.

Everything from that point on for days. and days. and DAYS!! was ‘fuck this’ and ‘fuck that’.

‘Greer, it’s time for fucking tea, come down fucking stairs now’

‘Greer, fucking phone for you…………!’ Yelled up the stairs..

‘It’s time to fucking get up now!!!!!’ first thing in the morning for college.

There were notes left for me with general instructions to ‘put out milk bottles for the fucking milkman’, ‘tidy your fucking room’… so many more that I can’t remember…

After about a week.. I gave in.

‘I’m soooo-ooo-ooorrryyy…. puurrrrr - leeeeeeeeeeease stop. I can’t take it… I’ll never swear again..

EVER! I promise.’

Mum slowly smiled. Winked. Spun her office chair back round to her desk and carried on typing.

‘I know’ she said.

Clever cow

I return!

Well.. what a lovely weekend.

I shall catch you up in a nutshell.. it’s what nuts do best

Ran to Boots Friday afternoon to get last minute baby supplies for our weekend away and spotted little Easter treats for the girls. Picked up five for The Girls and one for Rowan.

Faux Pas as obviously Amelie cannot eat chocolate. She was so good when she said ‘Oh is this something that I can eat?’ Suddenly it dawned on me and I felt awful. I explained that I was an idiot of the highest proportions and that I would go out in the morning and get her something that she could have and that I had picked them up without thinking.

I asked her if she could forgive me and in typical loving Amelie style she said ‘Of course I forgive you because I love you’ *Heart melts*.. What a beautiful little girl..

So.. Rich arrived and all the girls got to play and harass him to within an inch of his conscious state. He had been to an awards do on Friday night and gone to bed at about 2am I think. Got up at 7am and immediately got on a train to Loughborough. I think he did sleep all the way.. but he still looked pretty shit!!

Sorry Rich.. but you did!! hehe

Uuuuuummm…. All the girls got on brilliantly for 98% of the time. There were several Rowan-related reported incidents that I spent quite a great deal of the weekend explaining that they could deal with. We tried…

How would you deal with this if it were Josie?
I don’t mind at all if you need to tell Rowan off..
If she’s being naughty then you have my authority to make sure she behaves.. Honestly it’s absolutely fine..

I think by the end I may have lost interest somewhat.. and resorted to ‘Fran/Maddy/Amelie, how old are you? OK. How old is Rowan? OK. *Hug/kiss* Do you think you could possibly sort out the fact that she keeps running of with your shoes without having to tell me? (Very sweet though!)

I think they were worried that they couldn’t intervene in the same way with Rowan as they can with Joey.. but it only took a few well placed tellings off from me (for Rowan), for the girls to see they were welcome to take charge

Rowan is at the most irritating stage of childhood I think hope beg & plead with anyone that she is going to be for a while. She is gratingly stubborn. Stubborn to the point where she would rather go without the present that Granny bought them all from the shop on Saturday than say thank you! I mean please, how ridiculous!?

Rowan was guilty of many things this weekend (TRUST ME!!) but reportedly naughtily slamming a door whilst simultaneously sitting on the computer chair playing space junkie… wasn’t one of them.

However… pouring the begged for Fruit Shoot into Grampty’s shoes was! She only said sorry when she was at the side of her bed faced with the reality of a nap if she didn’t! My daughter honestly!

Saturday evening was lovely - we drank wine, laughed, relaxed … looked at photos.. giggled and got drunk! I went to bed far too late both nights but bizarrely both my children decided this weekend was the time when they would both sleep in till 7.30am both days!! YAY

There is so much more to this but my best mate has phoned so I can’t type and talk at the same time!!!

Am away for weekend..

I am away for the weekend enjoying the company of my brother, three of my nieces, my parents, my girls, BN and rather a large box of Sauvignon Blanc…

Ah yes.. I know how to live it up …

Develop-mental!

I’m trying to get the urge to blog tonight. I just don’t feel like I have any time at the moment!!

Everything is getting very busy. Work is hectic. I’m going crazy mental with to-do lists of stuff that needs to be done. I’ve already slipped into the whole forgetting family birthdays thing.. never getting shopping.. forgetting to go to the bank at lunch (ha! What lunch!?) because I have no time to remember I actually have personal errands to run..

I get home somewhere between 6.15pm and 6.30pm Monday to Friday and it’s straight into teatime (if not already happened or happening) and bath time, bedtime.

I see Rowan and Ella for about an hour after I get home and we go through our little schedule. Rowan is just delighted with our routine and happily reels off all the stages one by one until we say ‘.. and what comes after bath time?’

‘..dry ‘air’ (Rowan consistently drops her h’s on every single h word)

‘.. and what’s next?’

‘BEDTIME!!!!’ she yells!! So happy to be going to bed. It’s so very strange and easy with her and not really what I was expecting with a little one to be honest

By the time I sit down it’s 8pm and I just want to veg. Lay like broccoli. I’ve had a bit of a Pretty Woman theme this week, I think..

My job is just sooo time consuming! And highly targeted & pressured and so it’s getting the end of the fifth week back and I think I’ve done a 55 hour week every one of those weeks. And that has been hard.

As you know, Ella has been unwell, so I don’t think I’ve had a full nights sleep in any of those weeks so far..

Also in that time, Ella has learned to roll over, (she is almost sitting up unaided now) and Rowan has learned to draw a ‘w’ and a ‘t’… not to mention the leaps and bounds in her vocabulary and communication skills..

Not just satisfied with ‘no’ anymore, Rowan has now progressed to ‘I don’t want it’ said in a very posh little tone!

I got home yesterday and Rowan said ‘I can’t reach’.. for something I forget now..

‘I didn’t know she could say that.’

‘Oh yes’, he said ’she’s been saying that for a while now.’

Sniff sniff

Bad mother.

Missed all these things.

I’ve missed all these things .. missing development and milestones but then I know what I’m doing is providing them with things that I want them to have.

When they go to school, I’ll miss loads of things as well. But they will tell me about them. I don’t welcome the idea of them going to school. But then actually, I panicked completely about the idea of leaving Rowan in someone else’s care altogether and yet most mornings when I leave her at nursery, I don’t even look back!!

One morning, I actually forgot to wave goodbye!

I was late for work.

Bad mother.

But.

I’m bringing home the bacon. Making the dough. Being the breadwinner.
And many other food related analogies for making money.

It feels like a tough decision sometimes but then when I think about being at home with them day in day out.. I know what I’m doing is a good thing. I don’t want to be with them all day. I would hate it. Rowan drives me round the bend just at the weekend! I have no patience for the two year old.

Endless patience for the baby. Just not for the two year old.

It’s basically this: As soon as free will comes into it.. they piss me off.
Not all the time obviously. But just in general throughout the day. It’s the persistent, insistent, consistent pushing of buttons till you snap. Realising that saying ‘I’m tired’ might get them out of the penalty zone.

Even understanding (God dammit!! ) that being hungry might get her out of something she’s done wrong!

I didn’t mean it mummy.. ‘I’m ‘ungry!!’ whine whine… argh!! *tears hair out*

I don’t want to be at home with them all day because being with them all day would mean I couldn’t do my job.

And I love my job.

I love my kids.. obviously.. but at least working as well, means I get both.

Plus. Families need money and my earning potential is so much higher. It makes sense.

I’ve come across so many people who think what we do is weird.

I’m weird for going to work. I’m a mother. I should want to be with my children.

BN is weird for staying at home.

It’s not ‘normal’. He’s a dad. He should work.

It’s bizarre for a man to want to be with his kids at home.

When I say that actually BN doesn’t want to be at home. He would much rather be working. I see people almost visibly relax with relief that we’re ‘not that odd then’..

At least he doesn’t want to be doing it.

He is normal.

Oh, we are normal then.

Good good. I was worried.

Let’s give this little lad some support!

Now I found this blog after reading his mum’s blog after reading around this evening.

Her little 9 year old has SID, a disorder meaning that writing is not just difficult for him but painfully hard. He’s being home educated now so that she can give him some support and recently had the idea that a blog may just give him an interest to keep him going.

Well, he loved the idea and is intrigued that not only will people all over the world have access to his words, painstakingly written through masses of determination but also overjoyed at the thought of someone actually leaving him thoughts of theirs on what he writes about.

Please go and have a read of Freak Parade and see what they’ve gone through as a family to get him to the point where he was willing to have a try of something new..

And then let’s give him some support and encourage him to keep going…

Don’t do it for me, do it for him

I could protect the whole world. If I could just stop crying.

I’ve been thinking about this post for a while. Ever since someone replied to me

‘So….. you keep crying at everything..? Do you think you may be depressed?’

I seem to have developed an inability to refrain from tears at any given moment that involves a remote link to sadness or happiness in any degree. I’ll cry at the news, sure, the news is sad sometimes. Sometimes its happy. That also makes me cry.

Not strange you think.

I’ll cry at a good drama on TV, or a good movie.

‘Sure. Don’t we all?’ I hear you mutter back to your screens.

But.

I have started crying at adverts. X factor for god’s sake. It’s now a running joke at my house.

I’ll cry when I’m just trying to tell someone that sad story that made me cry in the first place!!

I didn’t even watch X factor further than the audition episodes which make me cringe . But I did catch up with the final episode - just to see who won - when they announced Leona’s name - I could have burst into little sobs. For her though.

The kind of welling that you know you could allow to turn into a good 10 second cry - out of happiness. Pride almost. I was thinking if she were mine.. I don’t even know the girl. Hadn’t even watched the series. But I was proud of her. Proud of her humble acceptance of the result and how shocked she looked.

But anyway. This post is not about X factor.

(I restrained it to a little ‘wah-huh’ and then pulled myself together )

So I have resolved to think about this behaviour. To try and understand it. Dig into my brain and try to understand this reduction to tears at sometimes the slightest thing.
It’s never great wracking, heaving sobs you understand, but not just a tear to the eye either.

I have always had this tendency to be a little over emotional. Sensitive. Over sensitive I suppose I have to admit. So I have wondered if I just have this heightened ability to empathise. I have always found it incredibly easy to read thoughts so to speak - to put myself in someone’s place and imagine what I would be feeling if I were them.

I can be quite snappy. Quick. Sharp even, sometimes. I also always had the tendency, as a child, to cry when I was at the extreme of any emotion. For example, if I got really angry, it would provoke tears. In domesticky situations I still do cry sometimes. (It’s not the same if I were to get angry at work. That’s different and doesn’t have the same effect).

It can be very frustrating though. Especially if it’s not the true representation of the emotion that you’re feeling.
I remember having a full blown shouting argument with one of my parents when I was about 13 or 14 and I was so angry that tears just started.

‘Don’t cry’ they shouted ‘it’s so annoying’…

‘Oh, to have the choice’ I thought.

It’s just not that simple for me. So maybe I just cry now because I have always cried. Whatever the emotion. It just seems that these days, post children, the instances of tears are just a lot more frequent. Does that indicate depression? Or am I just tired?

Kids are very draining. I am constantly tired. When you have small kids you are working 7 days a week. Forever. They are never quiet. They are repetitive. It can be like having the worst kind of repetitive, mind-numbing job you can think of. And then having it talk to you as well. Saying the same thing over and over again. Whilst hitting you on the head with a rubber hammer.

SO. Am I just knackered? Could that make you well up at every snippet of sad, bad or happy news, story or TV show?

But that comment keeps coming back to me. The word depression filters through to me every now and then.

So now I have started to think, ‘am I just thinking depression because I am thinking about it? Or does it keep coming back to me because it’s only a matter of time before I admit it?’ I mean talk about over analysing!

Since having children, my ability to remove almost any person from the role of ‘child’ is almost zero. I look at sad news stories like this and I am instantly thinking ‘if that were my child..If anyone ever did anything to my child…’. and I well up.

Stories of starving infants in the 3rd World, reports of murder victims, abuse, neglect, accidents whatever. I’m there with my tissues

That comment filters through again. Am I depressed? Or is it normal to think maternal thoughts toward any person that looks like they need them?

I know I am unlikely to be alone when I say that since having my children, my realities have shifted. My world isn’t just about me. It’s about my girls.

I want to keep my girls safe at my side. Always.

Protect them. Keep them from harm. Keep harm away from them.

So maybe the reason I am moved to tears at so many things that move me is because any person that has something happen to them is someone’s child. Not just an infant child but any child. A grown child. An adult. Through fault or neglect or abuse or from just not being in the right place at the right time.

There was a news story that hit the headlines at New Year about a poor couple whose daughter was killed by dogs at the pub they lived in in Leicestershire.
How would you ever get over not being in the right place at the right time? They left her for a minute and then she was gone.

So I suppose, tears at sad events are pity but could it be they are also relief to an extent?

I am sensible. I have been sensible in my life. Fairly. I know that the lessons I have learned from ‘don’t talk to strangers’, ‘drugs can kill’ to ‘don’t walk home alone in the dark’ are things that I have got from my parents, my friends, my TV, magazines, books … But where will my girls get these lessons from and will they be listening?

Will they be sensible?

Will they be as sensible as me? Will they say no to experimenting with drugs and avoid being dead on the dancefloor? Will they realise I’m not just being a killjoy when I won’t let them into town at night at 15 years old or will they sneak out and go with their friends anyway? Like I did.

My mum was a worrier when I was younger, still is now in actual fact. She worried just that touch too much and I rebelled ever so slightly. Not masses. I smoked. I smoked some things I shouldn’t have. But I never ever took drugs. Because no matter how much I wanted to be me and I wanted to dictate my own life and not be ruled (yawn ) I understood, even then, that the worrying was not unfounded.

So I was a cautious rebel I suppose.

I watched the news. Sometimes. I knew that drugs did kill. I knew that walking home alone could get you killed. Even walking home with your boyfriend could get you killed.

So how do I protect my children? How do you protect anyone?
I read a blog before Christmas about a 33 year old woman that died suddenly from a cancerous tumour in her foot that she didn’t even know she had. It stayed with me for weeks and to be honest, I still think about her now. I didn’t even know her but I think about her mum and her family. How terribly sad it was for them to have lost their daughter, their sister.

When I think about it though I am usually thinking what if that were my child?

Her mother couldn’t do anything. There was no being in the right place at the right time. It was out of her hands. You would think that by the time they get to 33, you aren’t quite in that same role anymore. But I can see now (infuriatingly ) that my mum was so right when she used to say I was her little baby - when I was 18,19, 20 and so on.

Of course I was.

I suppose that this is what this post is really about. This is what I have concluded. Having thought about this comment for a couple of months now, I have been writing this post and turning the comment over and over and coming back to writing this again and again, trying to make sense of what I want to say. (Hence its rambling process ).
I think it’s this.

When will my girls stop being my babies?

Never.

So. Am I depressed? Or is it just normal to face every day, once you have people to protect, with such a feeling of luck that you are managing to get through each day and keep them in one piece?

Am I just daft that most things make me cry or should I just laugh at the fact I can even well up at how cute the little girl is in the Persil advert pretending to be a penguin…?

You tell me.

Days Away… bloggery catch up

Have been away for a couple of days at my sister’s to give the girls a chance to play and to spend some time with my sister - as per my one and only NY resolution this year.

Look at me - it’s January and I’m working on a resolution. What. a. showoff!

Anyway. Girls slept OK considering it was pretty hectic full-on for Rowan from the word go. I was up 6.30am the first day and 5.30am the second but really - staying there is like Christmas for Rowan and it’s a wonder she sleeps at all to be honest. I think really by the end of each day, she just fell unconscious rather than slept.

She was extremely over-excited and I was really proud of her for most of the time with how nicely she was playing and how she tried to join in with everything. She is still a loner really and just pootles about most of the time, mooching and finding things that she likes to do.

Never mind if someone else is playing with it first - she’s used to who dares wins at playschool so you can’t blame her for trying it on with most toys - she’s had her own fair few ripped from her grasp with no responsible parent to chastise the offender - but she’s learning. However, her need for alone play in Rowanish coupled with her gregarious and tactile nature she spasmodically displays she can easily suddenly invade others’ personal space a bit just when they’ve got used to her being off somewhere else out of the way.

She and her 3-week younger cousin Josie are still having trouble settling down with each other but we both think this’ll calm down when Rowan can talk better. She’s a bit frustrated at the moment trying to get understood and is unfortunately resorting to punching, pulling hair, kicking - you name it (when she thinks no one is looking - or actually no… that doesn’t always seem to matter) immediately followed with the obligatory apology.

Josie is able to communicate easily and Rowan is still pigeon English interspersed with Rowanish that she obviously hasn’t realised noone else. can. understand.
Poor girl. She’ll work it out eventually

Ella was a dreamboat and behaved brilliantly … was dutifully held, passed around (deserted by me) looked after and doted on by everyone and managed to stay in a supremely good mood - all despite being in the midst of cutting her second tooth.

Bless.

Anyway - had a great time with my sister - and learnt a lot about her ( ha ha) and have come home thoroughly knackered and in need of sleep like never before - but 2lbs lighter!!!

Those stairs obviously do .. do the trick!!!

Off upstairs now to fall unconscious

Rowan - waiting for me to stop taking photos and keep up. We went out for a lovely winter walk and almost got to their local park.. It was great fun and Rowan absolutely loved it.

Playing on her own, Rowan is in Rowanish. My little word for her planet when she forgets that anyone else exists. Until she wants to feed you the wooden carrot she’s cooked

How *do* you get the hands off children? *Ella sucks aggressively on baby*
Children all playing nicely together… I decided not to take any photos of Rowan’s random acts of violence toward Josie.

New nursery, new year, back to work..

Only a weeks and a half to go then.. Does it sound like I’m on countdown? Not too much
Got Rowan settled at her new nursery this morning, she absolutely loves it. Had made firm friends with one of the girls there and I really felt that the atmosphere was genuine and even though the majoirty of the staff are young, I didn’t feel they were there for a laugh. They all seemed to be genuinely enjoying the kids.

So, that is a weight off my mind to say the least and I’ll be perfectly happy to be leaving her there a couple of mornings a week to give Big a break at home.

And here’s the unexpected BONUS!!! They are going to toilet train FOR ME!! Woohoo!! Bargain or what? Having talked it through with them today about how far we had got and what her habits were so far, the girl there (I’ll call her V) just explained how they will help with whatever we’re doing and compliment it. I explained that I really didn’t have a clue and I was happy to take their lead seeing as they must have done it a hundred times and I’ve never done it in my life - she agreed. I supply the knickers and spare trousers, the wipes and whatever and they will train Rowan to use the toilet.

I feel as though I’ve struck gold.

Okay, well maybe not gold - but close to it.

Let’s just see if it actually works… I’m sure there must be plenty of people reading this, shaking their heads and thinking ‘wait till she learns..’ but hey, I’m full of optimism at the moment so let’s just see what happens

Next thing is I’ve joined WW to lose the baby weight. I used to be a slimming world junkie (I never paid for any of the info, I just knew people that did it and copied all the stuff) and I was very successful. I lost 6 and a half stone that way 8 years ago (I think) and kept it mostly off for a long time. It was only the pregnancies that really brought it back with avengance.

So, I’ve bought into WW (with advice from a very close friend who has just been v successful with it) and as with most things in my life at the moment, I’m online with it. It seems to be working well but I thought if you were reading this - I would actually tell you about it rather than just bragging that it seemed to be working and not really sharing in the method.

So basically - don’t eat bread, cakes, sweets chocolates … sound familiar? The point with WW is that you can eat these things but everything has a points value. It costs too many points to have it and to be honest I don’t miss that stuff that much. I do really like marmite toast I have to admit but I think I will re-introduce bread to my diet when I’ve lost a couple of stone.

All day everyday at any time you can choose from a list of free foods (any fruit or vegetable, lean meats (as long as all visible fat is removed prior to cooking and you don’t add any fat to cook), shreddies and Special K, rice cakes, skimmed milk, jacket potatoes, baked beans, tea & coffee (skimmed milk added) and loads more and then have 21 points worth of food spread over the rest of the week. I tend not to have my points, I agree with Oh The Joys on ‘On Pounds’… I don’t really don’t trust myself to count them accurately enough and I figure that I’m probably eating points somewhere along the line without actually realising it so I;m better off pretending that option doesn’t exist and just living off the free stuff.

AND it really is free. You can eat as much of it as you like (I am testament to this fact as I stuffed myself with shreddies, skimmed milk, bananas and jackets potatoes, tuna and so much more last week and lost two pounds) and still lose weight. Never be hungry again! It’s great!

I have started to live off shreddies and skimmed milk with bananas, apples and after a slow start it’s now dropping off I’m glad to say - so hopefully my post in a couple of weeks time with my photo will be a slightly trimmer image..!

So, do we just get wee everywhere or what then?? lol

It’s been a back to normal day today. Rowan asked to do her letters today for the first time in ages. Christmas & G&G’s kind of removed them from her mind I think. Not that I mind - she is only just 2 afterall.. all at her pace at the moment.
We started little letters today - or I should say daddy and Rowan started little letters today. She knows all of her alphabet all by name and most phonetically as well. Speaking with a primary teacher over Christmas I understand that it’s beneficial for them to know the sounds as well as the names for an easier start at reading at school (this is usually how it’s taught apparently) so we are starting on that with the little letters in a slightly more structured way. She’s desperate to learn and asks to do them over and over all the time so it’s just up to her at the moment to show us what she wants to do and when. I’ve bought her a colour poster for her room with numbers and colours (just for when she wakes up in the morning really before we let her loose!).

She can count easily up to 6 and can read up to 12 so we’ve started on shapes and colours and we got some well placed christmas presents to help with that. She coming on leaps and bounds each day and is putting more and more words togther with every step. She added ‘don’t’ to ‘want it’ today making herself verbally clearer (she’s always shaken her head with this so we knew what she meant)… obviously Rowan being Rowan it had to be something centred around the ‘no’ option.. but hey.. development’s development

Ella still isn’t doing much physically (apart from growing!! we got out the 9-12 month clothes today and she’s 5 months next week!! )
We really thought she would roll over really early (or should I say earlier than Rowan did which was 5 months) - and in fact the HVs did too because of her weight - (digression - I do like my actual HV but her assistant has never done much to enamour herself to me - pointedly holding her hand over Ella on the change table at 12 weeks old and saying that bigger babies roll early and I should be careful before I walked away from her didn’t do much to further her standing! I did point out then she wasn’t showing any interest in anything other than her own hands but apparently I shouldn’t go on what happened with my first child because they’re all differnent - oh really! I’m shocked. There was me thinking they were all the same.) .. so although Ella’s showing signs of being interested in what’s behind her she still really hasn’t done anything positive about getting it!

I wonder if this will be Ella - she’s already very capable of shouting for what she wants so is moving really necessary..? - she doesn’t cry for a bottle anymore she grunts and straightens her arms and goes red in the face whilst shooting you the evilist looks!!! “Feed me - feed me now or feel the wrath of Ella!’ It’s amusing to say the least.. or at least it is now we’ve figured out what she means.. it’s not long before it turns into a scream

The only other addition to the family days is Rowan’s toilet training. We’ve been out to buy bedmats today as Rowan’s new favourite pastime is taking her nappy off in bed and weeing everywhere. JOY!

We were very much in the way of thinking - we’ll let her take the lead in terms of toilet use. She wanted to sit on it ages ago so we got her a little padded loo seat (bless) and she sits on it every night before her bath but it’s very hit and miss (not literally ). If anyone has any suggestions about this I’m very open minded about what works and what doesn’t. We have no idea really where to start. Her language isn’t quite far enough to explain it to her. If we talk about weeing and wotnot in the loo she just says yes to everything. She is starting to say when she needs a wee but sometimes I think it’s just that she’s already done one so we end up going to the toilet for no reason… hmm ..

So.. do we get rid of nappies in the day and get wee everywhere while we learn or what..?

You fell down a what..?!?

Interesting day today - supposed to be going home tomorrow after a very long stay at G&G’s and was really looking forward to it and then MG fell down a manhole!!

Not seriously injured just some slight bruising and swelling to left shin and a bang on his right knee - lucky as it coud have been rather painful and more complicated - anyway it wasn’t - he’s fine but… this means we can’t go home tomorrow as we rely rather heavily on being ferried backward and forward (no driving licenses and no car!)……..

so we have to wait till Saturday. Or something less selfish..

So the rest of the last couple of days has involved writing tutorials on someone else’s behalf. She’s bogged down at work and has too much on and not nearly enough time. As I have degree in human biology (minors in nutrition and neuro-phys) and these tutorial groups came up involving my area of study (albeit a while ago) I said I could help make up resource documents and questions and enable her to spend the time on the stuff only she can do. This means that I’m tired and ratty unfortunately coinciding with Rowan’s mosey into her horrible stage of the week - no to anything and everything, refusing to eat anything put infront of her, asking for anything she can’t have and making a big deal out of anything possible. It’s been a laugh

Richard’s girlfriend left and went home back to London - felt bad for her and Rich cos they both looked pretty sad about it, I don’t think they see each other now till February or something .. I’ve only done a long distance relationship once and I was very young, 17 or 18 I think. It didn’t last long cos the bumhead cheated on me. So the positivity I could have for the LDR has long since waned.

I’m off to drink more Almond Joy and write tutorials - interesting combination I should think…

A round up of 2006.

Saddam Hussein.
Everywhere (literally everywhere that I’ve been cos that’s not been very far over the last two weeks) I’ve heard people (family) talking about it and arguing .. sorry debating… over what was right or wrong…
I heard someone say yesterday that they thought the execution of Saddam was wrong because when Saddam killed all the people he did - he really thought he was doin the right thing….Oh well if he really thought he was then I guess..

Anyway.. 2006 was a pretty good year for me. We were thrilled to welcome a second daughter Ella, into the family if actually a little shocked to find out she was on the way at the end of ‘05. It wasn’t particularly planned or unplanned which (for me anyway is the best way I spose) but we did find out 24hrs after making the decision putting babies on the backburner till ‘07 so .. I spent the 1st 36-48hrs repeating ‘I don’t believe it’ and ‘how did this happen?’ But hey, she’s here now and we love her and we’re happy If a little sleep deprived.

……. she was awake till half midnight last night (not usual anymore) and when we finally got to bed at 2ish, Big was so tired that I retired to the spare bed next to Rowan only to be kept awake by her snoring until she woke at 4am and played till 5.30am!! I was awake merely 2ft away pinned by the anxiety that if she heard or saw me (or so much as became slightly aware of my presence in any way) that I would then struggle to get her back to sleep at all and then I really *would* be doomed to insomnia for the rest of the night and I really was shattered.

We never spend the night apart and I mistakenly thought that he and I would sleep better in different rooms. WHAT an error. When I finally decided I had to move (having had my fill of hearing Rowan and her Dora the Explorer doll play round and round the garden) Rowan immediately jumped up and said ‘.. ‘ello mummy’ I settled her back down and practically galloped back to safety only to be woken at 7 for a baby feed. She then didn’t actually surface till 9am! I had gotten up at 8 with Rowan.

So.. I’m knackered and I’m not really sure why I’m not in bed

So anyway I digress - 2006 - another baby. We’re both pretty sure there won’t be another so 2007 will be all about finding a niche for BN to start a career for himself and create some extra income for us. I know he’s desperate to be out and about and I don’t begrudge him that. Two years at home looking after children isn’t exactly what he had in mind bless him. His turn now I think.

Work is good - earnt well last year but it won’t be as good this year as I only earn on growth yr on yr so it’ll be lots of hard work without personal financial gain. There’s no doubt that the turnover suffers without me there to chivvy so hopefully it’ll be working toward a profitable 2008 for us. 2006 was another bad year for my crap attempt at managing our money. 2007 is going to be all about me putting some distance between us and the credit cards. It’s time to take proper control and stop moving debt from pillar to post trying to avoid the reality which is that we’re in a mess.

I’m going to lose all the baby weight - I’ve done it before so I can do it again - and hopefully find a way to afford the wedding that we have booked for August. It may not happen - I think I’m starting to admit that to myself but I’ll work hard trying to make it happen until I absolutely have to admit defeat.

I am going to be more organised and get things done and I think that this year we should make a concerted effort to finish our house so we’re ready to move on (if we can ever afford it ) I really feel that I spend to much time not accomplishing much of anything. I will get BN sorted with cash to get his driving license this year (I would say mine but it really would be a TOTAL lie. I don’t want to drive and never have. I will get round to it when I absolutely have to but I really don’t want to so maybe next year.. just thinking about it makes me shiver.

I’m going to be less insecure and learn to appreciate what I’ve got hopefully. Sort my shit out and stop moaning about being too fat/poor and bored at work. Maybe I will actually get off my backside and move on to pastures new and get a new job.

Merry. The last thing is my sister. She has had a hard year this year and I couldn’t be there for her really. Her choice. I desperately wanted to be. I have learnt a lot about her this year and only due to her blog which is just sad. I have always thought I have known her - and of course I do to some extent - but this year I am going to stop thinking that I know her and I am going to spend proper time with her and I am going to get to know her. And hopefully she will get to know me. So get a comfy mattress on the spare bed

She got me thinking that this is a really good way of getting your thoughts down on paper. I’m finding it shockingly easy to be very honest about me and more me. Easier - much easier than I ever thought. I don’t find it easy to share which I know would shock people that think they know me. I find it easy to talk, yes, but I’d much rather listen than share. I find it odd really. I can talk to BN easily but sometimes he isn’t the world’s greatest talker (he’d readily admit that) and I am guilty of utter ramblings from time to time that I’m conscious may er.. no probably bore him - I can shoot the breeze until I’m hoarse but I don’t always share what I should or what I’m sure I could and subsequently bottle a lot.

So at the end of this year I’ll be telling you how pleased I am that I have a friend in my sister and more than a family oriented obliging to be communicative which is I think how we feel sometimes. I have made a conscious decision that 2007 will be the year I get to know my sister. Properly. And I think that’s the first real resolution that I have ever made.

x

OMG!!!

I had it!! It happened!! And no I’m not talking about anything obscene - one good night was had last night so now I don’t care if NYE is crappy!

Rich’s girlfriend arrived last night - I’ll call her Early Riser (It’s the only nickname I can think of and she’s always up SO early) - and it prompted the arrival of G&G in the living room. MG got really drunk which was really pretty funny and even though I had to disappear for half an hour to settle a slightly overwraught Ella - the evening was really good. No games really got off the ground but the chatter was good, we had a good meal and then all got a bit sozzled and it was just what I needed.

More importantly - I collared my very drunk dad for a conversation I have wanted to have for ages. Big Nut has long been of the opinion that he’s not really liked. He knows he’s part of the family etc. etc. (I mean we have two kids together for goodness sake) but I think he’s always felt that MG doesn’t really really like him. There’s this thing they always have when they’re any game playing is that my dad will have little digs at Big about winning or competitiveness which always come across very competitively from my dad (although he always insists that his competitive days are well behind him) and always makes him out to be a bit of a bad loser to be honest. But having spoken to dad last night - it turns out (and I do believe him) that he thinks he’s just ‘ribbing’ and that in fact he is now mortified to think that he’s ever made Big feel like he’s not liked. I tried to be tactful and diplomatic about everything but nevertheless there were things I wanted to know.

So … it turns out that dad thinks Big is obsessed with winning and that he’s always ‘ribbed’ him because he’s always thought that’s been a bit silly. I obviously had to correct him. You see the thing with Big is that he just likes to play games (any board game really) and he likes to play well. He really couldn’t give a toss whether he wins or not but he’s strategy minded and likes to get to the end of boardgames (or anything really) and know that even if he lost - he played a good game. i.e. he didn’t make stupid mistakes or didn’t try hard. I think somewhere along the line dad has completely misconstrued this as the obsession with victory. I’m not really sure how. Dad has somehow drawn parallels of him and Big between him and my mum’s dad from when he was younger. Dad never felt good enough for his FIL and I think he’s now a little bit disappointed to see that maybe he’s doing something similar to Big.

The fact remains that Big has always felt a little judged I think. A little bit like he’s been singled out for some negative attention and ‘got at’ for something he really felt was unjustified and always remained completely mystified as to why or how it all started. Not only that but because the attention came from a FIL always felt that he couldn’t even mention or do anything about it because that would be ‘rude’.

Sooooo……. I’m hoping that I’ve helped There’s a possibility that I may have caused damage of course and that my dad will remember this conversation and be horrendously embarrassed and avoid me forever or I suppose he may not even remember it at all…

We shall see…

Aren’t families just a big pain in the bum? I just hate hate hate this kind of thing. It really gets me down. But I hate to see people unhappy way more. I hate seeing Big unhappy or sad most of all so something had to be done.
Big is pleased that I’ve done it I think - he may be a little nervous of the possible outcome - but after 6 years of thinking he’s disliked - It can only be good to find out that’s not the case… I hope.