Manic Mums Day: Little Birthdays, big deal!

Manic Mums Day: Little Birthdays, big deal!: So, primary school is 'double super', No 2 is 'the sweetest thing' and No 1 has had half an hour's homework every night since starting schoo...

Little Birthdays, big deal!

So, primary school is 'double super', No 2 is 'the sweetest thing' and No 1 has had half an hour's homework every night since starting school.   Life is very busy.

No 1 turned 5 at the end of August.  My lovely gastro bug (thanks for the 9lbs lost!) meant that a party on her actual birthday was out so it fell to the next weekend.  I finished work at 3, her party started at 4... I hadn't organised party game prizes or music...my journey is 45 minutes from work... I had to pick up a 'new' car before half 5...party finished at 6.  How to juggle?! 

Sweating profusely, I zoomed through Asda, grabbing paper, stickytape and prizes... rocketed on towards the party, got there to find hubsy and No 1 heading into a toilet - her still in school uniform, he carrying a bag.  Jeez!!  So, soft play party, sweaty and undignified...No 2 is clearly the fastest baby in the West, randomly disappearing in bizarre locations as soon as your eye was off her...

Headed off, got new car, got back in time for food and games, parents all arrived to collect kiddies and I got home, slumped in a chair and sighed that deep sigh of relief.

Working and birthday parties.  Fun!

Manic Mums Day: Gastro-diet

Manic Mums Day: Gastro-diet: So the first two weeks back at work have passed. Felt very organised, very efficient, very prepared - week one that is. All was well. The ...

Gastro-diet

So the first two weeks back at work have passed.  Felt very organised, very efficient, very prepared - week one that is. All was well.  The kiddiewinkles didn't appear to lack much in my absence, though Number 1 still manages to do good guilt with her protestations of missing me.  Number 2 was her usual raucous self, stomping about like the world's smallest zombie.  End of week 1 - pick up girls from the childminder.  They nap.  They wake up vomiting.
Oh no.
Oh yes.
Number two vomits all over the living room - TV, carpets, inside her toys...everywhere conceivable.  Hubsy almost vomits at the vomit.  So, I dutifully spend about an hour cleaning. 

Number one starts vomiting upstairs - carpets, bed, walls, toys... oh yes.  My house reeks of sick.  Bicarb sprinkled, Febreze sprayed, bleached and anti-bac'd out.  No2 recovers, No1 lingers...sick Saturday, little bit on Sunday, (school starts on Tuesday...)... Monday - back at the childminder, no vomiting... until, driving to the shops, No 1 redecorates the inside of the car and herself.  But she feels much better now, apparently!  Joy.  What to do?  Miss the first ever day of primary school?  Send her anyway?  She coped with the childminder for a full day - will 2 hours of school kill her? 
So, pale and cute in her uniform, she is duly packed off to school.  And I managed not to cry - not sure how I did that...

Suddenly not feeling so good.
And then I get it.  Vomit.  Tuesday spent in bed, sweating, feverish.  Wednesday the same.  Ditto Thursday.  Friday (today) didn't spend all day sleeping but my brief venture out with hubsy to buy No1 a birthday card for tomorrow left me tired, out of breath and listless. 

So, I have so far tripled my absence rate of last year.  I haven't made it to my important job.  That gives me guilt.  I haven't been able to organise anything for my darling daughter's big fifth birthday, nor can we have anyone over to the (as yet) un-decontaminated house of plague. Double guilt.  And then some more.  I can't spend time with No2, who, of course, doesn't understand - guilto guilto guilto!!
So much for the working mum having it all - this week I've managed to have nothing.

And No1 isn't too happy that next week she has to go to school all week either - it means (apparently) she can't go for lunch or shopping!  Little girls...

Manic Mums Day: I'm back...

Manic Mums Day: I'm back...: "Back from my holidays and ready to blog once again! I have done all the relaxing I can do and now it's time for DIY... There's nothing li..."

I'm back...

Back from my holidays and ready to blog once again!

I have done all the relaxing I can do and now it's time for DIY...
There's nothing like coming back from really nice surroundings to make you want to drop a bomb on your toy infested, fingerprint covered, chocolate smeared home.  And to top it all, the next door neighbour (whose overgrown garden has always made you feel better about yourself) has now gone cute and pretty in the garden design...argh...

Every parent's nightmare

Last night I started watching 'The Killing' with darling hubsy - we do like a bit of crime drama.  Being a touch on the hormonal side, I felt myself welling up at parts, just imagining how awful the situation would be.  Losing a child - there are no words...

Today, watching the footage in Norway, I can only imagine the horror of all those parents whose children are on Utoya Island.  It brings back memories of Dunblane, Columbine and the nightmare moments when you wake up in a sweat in the middle of the night and have to creep in and take some time to watch your own children breath, deep in peaceful sleep. 

I'm not a religious person but tonight a quiet word will go to the Big Man for children here, there and everywhere and for parents who have to face that paralysing nightmare for real.

...and why a social life is important for a mum...

In hospital last year, gallbladder being removed, there were two old ladies in the beds opposite. One was 76.  She had convinced herself she was dying and her outlook on life was grim.  Her recovery was slow and the other old lady (75) in the bed beside her rolled her eyes a lot about this.  Old lady no 2 was always up early.  She was well dressed and articulate and disappeared three times a day.  I thought she was nipping out for a fly cigarette but, oh no, 'twas not the case. 

In conversation with the old lady, I had a bit of an epiphany.  Said old lady was going out for an hour's walk each time she disappeared.  She walked, rain, sun or shine for three hours a day, even when in hospital.  Said old lady went on holiday with 'the girls' four times a year.  They jumped on a bus, train or plane and headed off somewhere - anywhere - they could.  They stayed in hostels, B&Bs - wherever they could.  They left husbands, kids and grandkids behind and took the time regularly themselves.  She got her nails done, her hair done and bought shoes not just because she needed them but because she wanted them... and not from supermarkets either.

Her philosophy:

"Heaven help the mother that doesn't look after herself - because there's no bugger else will do it for them".

And it's true.  We spend our days looking after our kids, our husbands, our parents and our careers but how many of us forget ourselves.  I certainly had done.  I refused to accept I was ill and got worse.  I didn't bother about how I looked so looked dull, felt dull. 

Much like 'charity begins at home', taking care has to include ourselves.

A social life - surely not!

This weekend I managed to be out both Friday and Saturday.  This might seem quite normal for those of you without kids and maybe for those of you who are financially well endowed.   For most mums out there, I think you'll agree, that is quite amazing.  Friday consisted of an overnight stay (shock horror - amazing!) in the Burgh - which is where I work, incidentally - with my good ole bestie AT.  For many years we had managed to drop off each others' radar but we've been making a concerted effort these days to recapture some of our riotous youth.  Much wine was consumed, stories shared and complaints made about £4.10 for a drink...we have a lovely meal though the Italian restaurant we visited confused us greatly by playing Christmas music!  A wee trip to the cinema (that I have to disavow as hubsy doesn't know) to see Harry Potter topped off our day on the Saturday after a hangover-busting Macdonalds.  Greetin' and snotters to be had at the sad end of a long term relationship with the franchise.  Potter, not Macd's. I then went out on Saturday to see.... Harry Potter with darling hubsy.  Drinks in the oh so trendy West End of my beloved home town and a midnight showing.  For how many of you mums out there does that seem like a wicked weekend?  For those singletons and childless couples, I'm sure it seems very tame.  It is a mark of how much life changes when you have kids that a nice weekend like this seems like a luxury, a rarity and a naughty way to spend a weekend. 

Lotto boak

So, one individual winning £161 MILLION to themselves isn't bad enough...it has to be a couple (I'm part of a couple)... and the ticket was bought in Falkirk (where I stay) and, in fact, from the same area that I buy my ticket.  It's not fair.  I'd take just a wee shave of that money and live happily ever after with it.  If there are any eccentric millionaires out there who fancy helping out a hard working family, all donations would be much appreciated! 

Freebies and day in the garden

I'm all up for this recycling business.  Freegle, Freecycle - I've signed up to them all.  This week's kindly donated goods include an almost new Hotpoint undercounter fridge, two desk fans, a kids swing and a trampoline.  Thank you kind people in the world!  Sadly the stuff I've offered up has mainly been ignored but I'll keep plugging away.

Today the children found most fun in playing a) with my clothes and b) in a tent.  It's amazing how much fun a tent is when you're a kid.  No 1 has been sleeping on the floor in her room for the past two nights in it.  If it were bigger, I think I would too. 

Rupert Murdoch

Having signed an online petition against Murdoch's takeover of BSkyB, I emailed a standard email from 38degrees to my local MP.  In it, I asked him 'be brave' and stand up to Murdoch because for many years politicians have let him force his way into power.   Think he's a bit sensitive - here's his response (his identity has been protected to save his blushes).

I note your E mail address was used to send a standard E mail which implied that I might have been timid in fighting for matters of principle in the past.
As an MP who has always spoken out loudly against corrupt, bullying or tyranical regimes, even suffering sacking and surcharges for those principles, I wonder what evidence you think you have for your statement. I ask if you even read what you sent, or what was sent in your name? 

So, my response to this snippy email... 

I think you're being a little over sensitive here. Politicians in power over many years have let Murdoch grab too much insidious power in the UK. I do not specify you as being timid, simply do I ask you to be one of those who stand up to him and stop it spreading even further.  You have read an implication into my request that is not there. I wonder why that was your immediate reaction.

 I could equally take your question as to whether I read the correspondence I sent you as an insult to my intelligence, but as someone who voted for you as my elected representative I have chosen to think this is not the case. 

I hope this bullish response to one of your constituents will be representative of your aggressive stance against Murdoch in Parliament. I continue to wait an answer to my question about your public position on the matter.

Any thoughts?

Do we disadvantage them?

I do wonder, especially during the holidays, how much working disadvantages our kids.  Hubsy takes No 1 to nursery and will also do to school after the holidays.  Because of this, my daughter doesn't get the same social experiences.  Other mums don't seem to talk to him - I wonder if they're scared he'll think they're hitting on him or they're afraid he'll hit on them?  Because of this, he's not made the friendships that the other mums have done and it's through these friendships that play dates are organised or the kids get to play while the mums have lunch dates.  I always feel it a bit but I think more so now.  I see all these mums getting together and their kids playing merrily whereas my daughter hasn't got these links.  She is always looking for someone to play with and on occasion gets quite sad that there's no one there to play with.  Now that No 2 is getting a bit bigger, it's getting less of an issue - she's pretty entertaining - but it does give me pause. 

However, maybe it's an advantage - maybe my daughter will be resilient and creative, hard working and self reliant - she finds her own entertainment a lot now and she is also pretty independent.  Maybe being a hard working mum is actually providing her with a good role model to aspire to in the future, not one who fritters away the day drinking coffee and chatting - oh, how I envy those mums! (And I know it's only in my dreams that the days of stay at home mums are filled with frippery!)  Who knows, maybe I won the lottery last night.  Maybe I can quit being a working mum and instead fill my days with activities for me and the kids.   Beauty therapies for me, the gym, yoga, dance classes, art classes, mums and kids groups, walks in the countyside, arts and crafts, music... In my dreams, I think!  But, oh, how I treasure these dreams... [lucky dip for Wednesday please...]

Quiet rage

So.  I'm on holiday. I work long hours.  On the other hand, hubsy is at home all week except Monday and Friday when he works.  The rest of the days he's at home with two wee girls. I get quiet rage when he goes out.    I know it's unreasonable... I know he needs to get some man time, I know all the benefits it brings to our relationship for us to have a bit space...for his own mental health etc... so why do I get the silent rage whenever I get the text that says 'I'm off out after work for a few hours'?  Is it that I think he should spend all of his time with me?  Am I really that wife?

Oh, Daytime TV...

It's becoming a routine already... from 1-3, CSI, then Criminal Minds, Friends, Will and Grace... dear oh dear oh dear!

Hello world!

Well, here goes.   This is my first attempt at blogging so I hope anyone out there who stumbles across my wee site bears with me.  I am a working mum, with all the stresses and guilts that go with that.  I work as a teacher - in fact, as a department head, so I am often working late - past 9 sometimes.  There are days go by I don't see my kids and it makes me feel sad and inadequate a lot of the time.  However, I know that dad, being the primary care giver, is always there for the girls.  I just wish it was me.

One of the major upsides of my job, though, is the summer holiday break.  Right now I'm on week 2 of the six week break that many parents dread.  Darling Daughter 1 (almost 5) is currently playing with DD2's noisy toys (DD2 is 15 months old) and the noise is driving me stark raving mad.  I know this is when I get to give them my full and undivided attention but I'm just not sure how I'm going to manage to do that and the housework.  So, instead of either, I set myself up a blog.  Nice work. 

Hopefully I'll find lots of things to blog about.  I want to make a list of all the great things we get up to and share all the comedy moments with the girls.  Speak soon!