Crazy Mother

Nightmare-ish day from hell.

2011-04-02T06:41:00.000-07:00

Apologies in advance for the ranty, whiny nature of this post. Also, apologies to any readers who are facebook friends with me and will probably have heard all this from my whiny/ranty status update.

It's not even 3PM yet and I'd had enough of the day. It all started at about 8.50am. As I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and looked at my phone to check what time it was, I was hit by the sick realisation that it was ten to nine. Ten. To. Nine. Any other day when the kids were off school, I'd be skipping and dancing round the house full of the joys of spings, singing the praises of my blessed children who let me sleep til a reasonable hour. But could the blessed children skip their 5Am routine on a day where we had nothing to do? Noooo. Of course not. It had to be on a day where they had swimming lessons, and need to leave to house at 9.30.

So. That gave me a whole 40 minutes to feed, water, wash, dress and comb 3 children, wash, dress and comb myself, feed the dog and let her outside, pack 2 swimming bags and get to the bus stop. Cue manic running round, pouring cereal into bowls, brushing hair, packing bags, feeding dog all at the same time (to quote a funny relative who I won't name, 'Do you want me to shove a broom up my backside and sweep the floor while I'm at it?'. The kids are lucky they didn't get cereal bowls full of dog food. We FINALLY made it out of the house 5 minutes late (after an outfit change for my son who had an accident...the joys of potty training).

So, once we get to the pool, I get the girls changed quickly and send them in. Now I have to entertain my son (who is too young to participate in lessons) for half an hour. Not a great problem, of course. Except he is in the MOTHER of bad moods this morning (perhaps due to the tumultuous morning we'd experienced) and was completely uncooperative. I decided to walk him to a nearby shop (he likes walking round shops, surprisingly- lots of shiny, exciting things!). On the way to the shop, I stepped in a humungous pile of dog mess, ruining my new shoes (the one day I don't wear leather shoes). My new cotton pumps are now ruined. After cleaning my feet up as best as I could, we go to collect the girls from swimming lessons. After they're dry and changed, my darling son decides he doesn't want to walk any more. Well, not only does he not want to walk, he doesn't want to do anything, except for go limp and lay on the floor, apparently. I had 2 bags of wet towels and swimsuits, a bag of stuff I bought from the shop, 2 other kids and a baby playing dead. I ended up sort of half dragging him along the floor out of the leisure centre and to the bus stop, where again, he lays on the floor refusing to move. As I'm asking him "Would you like me to leave you here, then?" (Obviously I wouldn't, but usually this prompts him to jump up saying 'No!' and follow me) my daughters teacher steps off the bus and sees me, in my unkempt state, threatening to leave my son lying on the floor playing dead, laden down with bags full of wet towels and a becrazed look in my eye. My sons replies "OK, see you later!"

So, after actually physically dragging my son onto the bus (which, of course, was absolutely packed- yay! A huge audience!) he once again lays on the floor, limbs splayed, refusing to move. Two old ladies thought it was hilarious and laughed between giving me sympathetic looks (God bless them for not judging me as a horrendous mother), but this only made him play up even more. I ended up picking him up and wedging him under my arm round his waist, much to his displeasure. I was at the point where I didn't actually give a damn about his pleasure anymore. We got off the bus at our stop, and this is how we marched home. Me with a toddler under my arm, a handbag over my shoulder, each hand full of carrier bags, and one shoe with poo on, stomping down the road, with a girl each side of me. Oh dear. I think I actually lived up to the name of crazy mother today.

After we get home, World War Three breaks out because my oldest daughter took a stick on tattoo that her younger sister had and stuck it on her own arm. Older daughter gets sent to her room, and amateur dramatics ensue ("Please, don't I deserve another chance? This is the worst day of my life! I might as well move to China because nobody would care anyway!") All because she was sent to her room.

Aaaaand now I have to clean my house from top to bottom, as we have mother in law coming for dinner tomorrow. I don't feel like cleaning now. I feel like laying on the sofa in a darkened room drinking gin straight from the bottle (I don't know why gin. I don't even like gin).

Happy thoughts, happy thoughts! *manic, tooth-bearing smile*

Crazy Mother x

Hi again!

2011-03-29T14:11:00.000-07:00

Hello there!
I haven't blogged for a year. Oops. Weird, because in real life, I have so much to say for myself. Too much, probably.

Well, we're all good. In the last few months, my eldest daughter has magically transformed from a 7 year old to a teenager (Magically=horrifically, terrifyingly, etc). Yep, she has Bieber Fever. She watches iCarly and all manner of other crap on the Disney channel. She sulks. Everything she and her friends aren't interested in is 'for babies'. Ah, what fun. I'm almost certain at her age I was still watching Rainbow and playing tea parties with teddy bears. Sometimes I wonder if this is really her, or she's just trying to keep up with her friends (for a number of weeks, she thought his name was Justin Beaver. It took every fibre of strength in my body to tell her it was actually 'Bieber'- too funny). She's also lost her 2 front teeth, which not only looks terribly cute, but gives her a lisp (which, much to her annoyance, I find utterly adorable).

Middle daughter is same as ever. Funny, grumpy, stubborn, but still a little sweetheart really. Alas, she's currently going through the toilet humour phase. She's inventing jokes related to or revolving around poo on a daily basis. I can't see her career as a stand up comedian taking off. I'm trying to steer her toward knock knock jokes (she still manages to turn it around to toilet humour though :/ ).

My son is HUGE now. The size of his 4 year old sister (who is, admittedly small for her age, but still). People are amazed that he's only 2. I think he still has a baby face, but I can sort of see their point. He reminds me of a gorilla. Not because he's hairy, but he looks like a tiny version of Mr Universe. He has really broad shoulders, skinny waist and hardly any baby fat on him. We're potty training at the moment, which means he's not worn pants for about a month. I'm concerned that he seems to be actually developing an aversion to pants (well, clothes in general, actually); stripping off at every available opportunity. Please reassure me that this is normal, and he's not going to grow up to be a nudist or a stripper (not that there's anything wrong with either, but family gatherings would be awkward for me, and 'Take your kid to work' day would be awkward for his hypothetical future kids). The potty training is going well. Better than I expected, actually (he's almost as stubborn as his older sister). Fingers crossed it continues that way!

We're decorating at the moment. This means we've stripped all the paper from the back room, having not yet decided what to replace it with. Husband and I have gotten as far as glossing all the woodwork, now we're up to the 'arguing about what to cover the walls' with phase. I will win. The kids get their stubborn streak from me.

Well, that was pretty mundane, but I've been sick, dosed up on medication and had weird sleeping patterns for three days, so I have brain fog. I'm going to start updating regularly again. I promise!

Crazy mother

I love my best friend.

2010-04-03T05:23:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning, looked around at how much I had to do, and wanted to cry (I've alot of cooking and cleaning to do for Easter tomorrow.). The girls were already moaning about being bored (at 8am! I'm barely awake at that time, they have the energy to be bored?!) and I envisioned a day ahead of cleaning/kids making mess/cleaning/kids making mess/me telling kids to clean some of their mess/kids cramming toys under their bed. Then my friend (Also know as Sweet Wonderful Angel sent from the Heavens) called me and asked would the girls like to go out for the day! Yeah! By 11AM, two-thirds of my children were out for the day. It's half past one, and I already have so much done! Woohoo! Oscar (my son) is being a good boy, too. He's currently sitting on the floor dismantling an aeroplane (not a real one. A toy he got for Christmas. I think he watched his dad put it together on Christmas morning and has decided it'd be fun to undo all that hard work. Oh well, it's keeping him occupied).

Right, I'm off be productive some more!

Laters,

Crazy Mother

They're out in force!

2010-04-02T07:09:00.000-07:00

Oh my. A spider the size of a small dog is hiding behind the sink pedestal n my bathroom. I hope I don't need to pee until Husband gets home from work. That's 4 hours away, and I just drank a huge mug of tea. Oh dear.

On the bright side, it may eat any moths/crane flies that manage to get in.

Crazy Mother
x

Mmmmm, pie.

2010-04-02T01:09:00.000-07:00

Hi!

I didn't update my blog for months, and now I'm on a roll. This is so typical of me, though. I'm quiet for a while, then I start talking, and don't stop, and talk really really fast because I have so much stuff to cram into one sentence.

So, I baked a pie! And it was the most delicious pie since the dawn of time. It was beef, brown ale, shallots, and a concoction of other herbs and things. Mmm, it was sooo good. I know it'll be one of those recipes that everyone RAVES over, and it's so good I make it about 3 times a week for a month, then everyone will be sick of it and never want to look at another pie again. Still though, I love it when you make something that's just so delicious you have to call people and offer them the recipe. It's too good to not share. I'm thinking about starting a cooking blog, actually. I enjoy cooking alot, and it's one of the few things I'm good at (or so I'm told). And when I find or create a recipe that's great, I have somewhere I can share it, and maybe even get feedback. Hurrah! Yeah, I may start a cookery blog, when I get the time. I'll post my pie recipe on it. There are delicious pie leftovers in the fridge, however, today is Good Friday, which means no meat, so I can't eat it for lunch. Booo!

So, re my earlier Spring post. Yup, spring has most definitely sprung. How do I know, you ask? Because MOTHS ARE BACK!! I went to bed last night, switched on the bedroom light, and saw one of the winged beasts of doom flying agains my window, attempting to break into my room. I actually felt sick. Gone is the safe, insect-free cocoon of winter (reason #179 why I prefer winter over any other season). I hate most insects. I don't mind butterflys, ladybirds and caterpillars (I wouldn't want one on me, though) but moths are one of my most hated and most feared. Moths, crane flys (or Daddy Long Legs') and spiders. Crane flys are just Flying Spiders, so they're the worst out of the bunch, I think. At least you can run from a spider (then sleep on the couch for 4 nights because it escaped in your room and your dad couldn't find it to kill it. Umm...no, of course I didn't do that! What kind of a wimp do you think I am?). But crane flys? No, there's nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. They'll find you. And they'll fly at you. Usually towards your hair. Urgh, I'm shuddering at the very thought. They are, single handedly, the reason why I almost boil to death every night in the summer; I never sleep with a window open, for fear that I'll wake up in a room full of crane flys (at least moths leave you alone if it's dark. Crane flys aren't fussy). I need to buy a net for the window, I think.

Tickling babies. Cruel, or funny? What if you tickle them till they pee themselves (which I suspect he does, given the amount he laughs. He wears a nappy though, so who knows?) What if they seem to enjoy it?
I just absolutely cannot resist tickling Baby. He laughs this funny little laugh, different to his usual laugh. Like a chuckle. He has the most ticklish shoulders EVAH. I creep up behind him and tickle them, and he rolls around on the floor chuckling until he can hardly breathe. When I walk away, he follows me, with a little nervous smile on his face, and his ticklish shoulders hunched up, waiting for me to do it again. The collapses into fits of laughter when I do. It's irresistable. I know how much I loathe being tickled, so I think 'Why are you acting like you want me to do it again? You can't possibly enjoy this.' But, he really does seem to. Weird baby. Adorable, but weird. And scruffy at the moment. He really needs a hair cut. I was planning on taking him today, but didn't realise the barbers was shut (Good Friday), and may be too busy to take him tomorrow. Ah well. We'll tell people hes going for the 'hobo chic' look.

Until next time,

Crazy Mother
x

Enough! I'm leaving!

2010-03-31T12:41:00.000-07:00

The Great British Weather has driven me to the end of my tether. I need a holiday. I've spent the day trawling various travel agent websites and hotel review sites, trying to snap up a good deal. I'm not particularly fussy; as long as I have sun, sea, sand and halfway decent food, I'm happy. I didn't realize how decidedly UNfussy I was, however, until I started reading hotel reviews. I had no idea that a cracked tile in a shower cubicle is enough to completely ruin one's entire holiday. Seriously. The whole week, ruined. Because of a cracked tile. The holiday goers were so aghast and horrified at this cracked tile, that they felt compelled to take several photos of the offending tile and post them with the review. Other funny complaints were: ants in the entertainment room (with accompanying photos of said ants), only THREE chairs on the balcony (not sure how many is the standard amount of chairs there should be, but whatever), the tomatoes on the buffet were too wet (?), and the chips were too thin. I honestly, truly believe that some people enjoy complaining. I don't mean like having a good whine every now and again (because who doesn't?) I mean actually strive to find things to complain about. Who goes on holiday and takes photos of cracked tiles and measures the chips?! I ask you.

I'm so sick of rain and sleet and cold. It's spring, almost Easter, and we're getting sleet, for crying out loud! Some parts of the country are knee deep in snow. I like snow and cold, in winter when we're supposed to be getting it. I'd like a little sunshine now. So, I'm determined to book a family holiday, so at least we have that to look forward to if we have crappy weather in summer (which, knowing the UK, we probably will). The kids had an absolute ball on holiday last year, and Majorca was just perfect for them (so much to do, and the beaches were great) so we may go again this time.

I'm thinking of getting a new look. I like being a redhead and all, but I get bored so, so quickly. I'm tired of looking at it now. I'll most likely go back to blonde, as I look washed out with brown hair (I've never known someone to not suit their natural colour as much as me. Seriously, I look like I've been dug up). I'm also thinking of getting a fringe and/or some choppy hairy bits round the front. I can envision what I want, I just have trouble putting it into words. I'd best find a picture to take to the salon with me. If I go in and ask for choppy hairy bits on the front of my face, I'll come out looking like Cousin It.

That's all of todays ramblings, I think. Oh, Baby's learned to say 'What?'. When you call his name, he replies 'What?'. Too funny.

Until next time,

Crazy Mother x

I'm a terrible blogger.

2010-03-28T14:48:00.000-07:00

Sorry it's been over three months since I updated. I know, I know, I'm rubbish.

So, spring has sprung! We've had some glorious weather the past couple of days. I hope it lasts! Especially as we enter the first week of...*dramatic music* EASTER HALF TERM HOLIDAYS!!! 2 weeks of all three kids at home. If it rains, I don't know what I'll do. Plan some indoor activities, I suppose. And maybe start drinking in the afternoons. Still, there's only so much painting/cutting/sticking/drawing you can do! And limited board games a three year old can play (and zero board games an 18 month old can play). I guess I could spend the holidays teaching the kids to play Trivial Pursuit. At least I'd win every time. Har har.

Seriously though, the girls' school have some fantastic activities planned for the half term for kids of all ages, so we'll be spending alot of time there. Loads of sporty activities, which I'm hoping will tire Baby out. Seriously, he thinks he's Spiderman. His latest expeditions involve climbing the towering heights of Mount Computerdesk and jumping up and down on the printer, Climbing on the back of the couch and jumping off (miraculously, landing on his feet) and attempting to stand on top of the TV (we have a flatscreen. Good luck with that). Why can't he be content with playing with a spoon or rummaging under the couch for stuff to eat, like he used to be? Everyone told be baby boys were more placid and quiet than baby girls. Err, WRONG. My daughters, while admittedly never quiet, were at least lazy. They never bothered trying to climb on the back of the couch, they simply didn't care enough to bother. On the plus side, I'll probably lose about 20lbs running around trying to prevent him from killing himself. Bonus!

Bye for now,

Crazy Mother

x

Happy New Year!

2010-01-07T09:31:00.000-08:00

Wow, what a busy few weeks! I hope you all had a good Christmas, a fun New Year and that 2010 is a great year for everyone. :)

Ours was good. The kids had a great time. Christmas Eve was eventful (our neighbour had a housefire and, me and the husband being the good samaritans that we are, went to the rescue) but Christmas morning was lovely. The kids woke up at a surprisingly reasonable hour (7.45, baby! That's practically a lie in!) and were so excited when they saw all the toys that Santa had left for them. Well, the girls were. Baby was decidedly unimpressed with most of his toys, and opted to play with the wrapping paper and empty boxes (I swear I'm just gonna wrap up a load of empty boxes for him next year, he'll have a blast and I'll save myself a fortune). He showed a slight interest in a little box of plastic dinosaurs, taking each one out of the box in turn and making a 'roar' sound, copying the husband. They held his attention for all of about 60 seconds, then he decided that he wanted to play with wrapping paper and boxes again. Oh, and Girl1's Disney princess kitchen (maybe he'll grow up to be a chef?).

The girls loved their toys, but were most excited over the extra treat in their stocking; a reindeer cookie that Mrs Claus baked- they're special, and only little girls who've been very, very good get one of those in their stocking. ;) Girl2 got a 'Mummy make me better' dolly- she was thrilled with it, although if I'm being entirely honest, I find it creepy. And annoying. It does this weird, hoarse cry when it's "sick", and it's cheeks glow (seriously. Maybe it's sick with radiation poisoning?). It only stops crying when you take it's temperature with the thermometer, and give it special medicine in the form of a plastic spoon, which is so small it's practically microscopic, so you can imagine how many times on Christmas day the spoon went AWOL and we were stuck listening to Baby Radioactive squawking. Fun times!

Our new year's eve was good, if not a bit quiet. We were both tired (see earlier blog entries re being too old for wild nights out) but we went out anyway, determined to see in the new year with a drink and a party popper. Alas, there were no party poppers, and there was this awkward period at around midnight where everyone was like "Is it midnight yet? How long's left? My watch says 3 minutes past twelve..." "Mine says ten to, it's not midnight yet" etc etc, and people start loudly counting down from 10 at random intervals, expecting people to join in (nobody did). We eventually came to the conclusion that it had probably passed midnight in the time that we were dithering over it, so wished each other Happy New Year and sang Auld Lang Syne.

So, now here we are. January, 2010. A whole decade into the new millennium. Where have the past ten years gone?!

Until next time,

Crazy Mother
x

I did it!

2009-12-09T04:18:00.001-08:00

I skated and didn't break anything! In fact, I didn't even fall over. Not once. I was even skating sort of quick! I started getting a bit cocky, like, I'd speed up, then get stuck behind a couple of slow skaters (it was a really small rink), inwardly roll my eyes and think 'Amateurs!'. I'm very proud of myself. I may take up figure skating (Ha!).

Christmas activities and possible broken limbs.

2009-12-04T13:57:00.000-08:00

I'm going ice skating tomorrow! There's a temporary ice rink in the city centre, so as my wonderul sister is looking after my children, Husband and I have decided to get into the festive spirit and spend the afternoon ice skating, looking round the Christmas markets, sipping mulled wine and generally just getting nto the Festive spirit.
I'm in a bit of a dilemma, though, Folks. I'll start at the beginning. I've been ice skating a grand total of 2 times. Both times, I ended up with a bruised bum and bruised pride. I know I can't skate, so why do I have visions of me gracefully gliding round the ice like a figure skater? The logical part of my brain is telling me I'm going to look like a cat wearing rollerskates. So, here's the dilemma. I'm thinking of perusing the Christmas markets and sipping mulled wine before the ice skating, hopefully that will numb me enough that it won't hurt so much when I fall, and I won't care how much of an arse I look. On the other hand, I'm more likely to fall over after a cup or two of the red, spicy stuff. What to do, what to do?
Ah, who am I kidding. We all know I'm going to end up shuffling round the edge, clinging on for dear life while experienced skaters whizz past me.

Until next time,

Crazy Mother

x

IT'S CHRIIIIIIISTMASSSSS!!! (Well, nearly).

2009-11-28T03:50:00.000-08:00

I'm superduper excited (see, that's HOW excited I am- I'm saying stupid non-words, like superduper). Christmas time is almost here! As I write this, I'm listening to White Christmas on the radio. Yes, the festive season is upon us, the season of goodwill and joy to all men, blah blah blah, you know the script. I LOVE Christmas! I'm such a big kid when it comes to Christmas. I love it all; The food, the decorations, the trees, even the freezing cold weather! Now the nights are drawing in, the air is getting chillier and people are stringing fairy lights up in the windows. Am I excited? Oh yes! Am I prepared? Ohhhh no. I've bought about half of the kids' gifts, NO gifts for anybody else. I don't have a tree yet, I (barely) have plans for Christmas day, and last week, I had the marvellous idea of volunteering to host a Boxing Day party! What a bloody fantastic idea! Because Christmas isn't stressful enough already, and you know what? Nothing says 'Festive' like a nervous breakdown. I think the term 'glutton for punishment' was invented for me.
Anyway, I'm trying to forget how stressful it will all be by focussing on the fun aspects of the festive season. The kids and I made Christmas decorations yesterday! Baby didn't think it was much fun, since the activity quickly turned to 'Let's stop the baby eating salt dough. And icing sugar. And flour. And cookie cutters. And random other bits of the floor.' After realising he was probably a bit small to help, and fastening him into his high chair (AKA Baby Jail, it being one of the only remaining contraptions that can keep him secure- God help me the day he figures out how to get out of that one) I concentrated on making the decorations with the girls. They actually turned out really, really great! I'm the least crafty person one could meet, however, I can bake, and this was esentially baking and decorating inedible cookies. So it was all good. I'm actually very pleased with our efforts! I shall hang them on the Christmas tree with pride.
In other news, Girl2 has been cast as an angel in her Christmas nativity play in nursery. The day they were announcing the parts, as I was collecting her from nursery, the teacher quietly told her to 'Shush', and a hysterical crying fit ensued. The other child who had been cast as an angel had a whopper of a tantrum because she didn't want to be an angel. How ironic that the two "angelic" figures in the play were the two tantrumming little monsters? She's very excited anyway, having tried on her angel costume and realising she gets to wear wings and a halo. :)

Hopefully I won't leave it too long before I update again!

Until Next Time,

Crazy Mother
x

Hi, my name is PsychoMum

2009-10-17T14:16:00.000-07:00

...seriously. I've become one of those mothers. I think I've passed a little bit crazy and sailed on to full on cuckoo territory. I've set my son up a Facebook page. I log in and post status updates from him. Also, he now smacks me and pretends to cry when I kiss his little smoochy lips. I couldn't work out why my son suddenly didn't love me any more, until the Husband pointed out that sometimes I pin him down and smooch his little chubby face until he's squirming to get away (the baby, not the husband). What's wrong with me?

I had my heart broken yesterday. My oldest daughter was watching Elf, and she turned, looked at me with her big, innocent, 5 year old eyes and said 'That's silly, mummy. I know that Santa isn't real, the mummys and daddys buy presents for the little girls and boys!' Cue my heart smashing into a million pieces. She's still a baby! How the hell did she work that out?! I feel kinda terrible for it, because I was always gonna be honest with my kids and blah blah blah...but I told her she was wrong, Father Christmas IS real! I just didn't expect her to find out this young. I wanna squeeze another couple of years out of the 'Christmas Magic' feeling you only get as a kid who believes in Father Christmas. So, now I'm the mother who terrorises my children with kisses and lies to them. Great.

While we're on the subject of Christmas, I started my Christmas shopping. Finally! OK, by started my Christmas shopping, I mean I've made a list, bought one present (that wasn't even on the list) and I don't know who to give it to. Oh well, that's a start.

Until next time,

Crazy Mother

Being a teenager for the day.

2009-10-03T04:40:00.000-07:00

OK, so I'm super duper excited! Me and my 2 friends decided that we haven't had a girly night out in SOOOO long (I'm not kidding, it's been like, 3 or 4 years). So we planned one for tonight. I'm feeling like a teenager again, I'm so excited! The husband is staying home with the kids, I'm even going to my friend's house to have drinks and get ready, just the the good old days :P . I kinda feel like a fish out of water, though. I'm twenty three going on fifty. I don't listen to the music all the 'kids' are getting down to these days. I'm worried my shoes will rub and give me blisters, and I'm debating the merits of taking a coat (What? It's chilly! So what if it doesn't match my drop dead gorgeous expensive dress! I don't wanna catch a chill...). I'm fully preparing myself for a night of "I'm cold just LOOKING at her." and "What? That trendy cocktail costs HOW much?"
Teenager for the night? Hmmm. Maybe I should stay in in my comfortable slippers, drinking cocoa and watch a gameshow.
I'm getting too old for this.

Until next time,

Crazy Mother
x

Wishing the ground would swallow me whole

2009-09-19T06:29:00.000-07:00

I accidentally posted a picture of my boob on the internet. Yes, that's boob, singular. Just one lone boob, looming (albeit very obviously)in the background of a family photo. Luckily, some kind hearted old school pal took pity on me, and instead of posting on her facebook status 'Hey! Guess who just posted a picture of her boob in with her holiday snaps?!' she sent me a message, informing me that I was 'Umm, flashing'. Actually, the first thing that went through my mind was 'Please let it be a boob and not something worse', as her warning was, to be honest, pretty vague. So, when I saw the offending picture, my emotions quickly ran through relief, shock, embarrassment and then panic, as I tried to delete the photo. Then I phone my husband, who, after laughing solidly for about an hour (OK, more like 30 seconds, felt like an hour though), logged into his facebook in work and confirmed that I had indeed deleted the offending photo. I'm just starting to see the funny side of this now. Only because I deleted the photo very quickly.

In other news, we took the baby on his first ever trip to the pinewoods, to see the squirrels. Bad news is, all the squirrels have died from squirrelpox. Good news is, we managed to see three, and according to a park warden, we were very fortunate! Our daughter had a great time (oldest daughter was in school, so didn't come) and the baby tried to eat a fir cone (I sometimes feel like I should change the name of this blog from 'Crazy mother' to 'Guess what non-food item my kid tried to eat this week?').

Until next time,

Crazy Mother x

2009-09-14T02:24:00.000-07:00

So, I'm back! I just remembered that I hadn't posted anything here for like, over a month! So here I am to update you with my various ramblings and observations. I've been on holiday! We have just returned from a week in sunny Spain, and surprisingly, I feel rested and relaxed! I know! A week by the sea, in a foreign country, a plane ride away, with three children! And I feel relaxed! We spent the week swimming in the sea, jumping in the pool, catching fish and crabs on the beach, and eating Spanish food (Well, mostly- I draw the line at eating anything with tentacles, so the squid paella was out). The weather was beautiful, all week. Not a grey cloud in sight! Isn't it strange the way the weather can affect you so much? Like, the sunshine puts everyone in an amazingly happy mood? I, personally, am more of an autumn/winter person myself, but I enjoyed the sunshine immensely! Nothing could put a dampener on our holiday, as the sun was shining. Not the sewage smell coming from the shower in our hotel room, not the fact that the kids' clubs were all in German (seriously, they couldn't understand a word of it, LOL. It didn't stop them joining in, though! They were even singing along auf Deutsch by the end of the week!). Not even the fact that we spent £60 on a boat trip with 'beautiful mountain views, swimming in unspoilt coves, spotting dolphins and a delicious lunch included' which basically amounted to a ferry ride and a warm, stale ham sandwich with a bottle of lukewarm water. Nope, it didn't matter! We had the sun, a beautiful beach and a whole week to enjoy it. There was even a holiday romance! No, I didn't have an affair with a hunky spaniard- it was my 3 year old daughter, and a little boy who she is now calling her 'best friend'- they were totally inseparable all week. I also got the CUTEST naked-baby-on-the-beach photo of my son. Perfect to embarrass him with when he's a teenager. He absolutely loved the beach. Like, went crazy shouting when we took him out of the sea, until we plonked him back in it. His favourite game was "Let's eat non-food things we find floating in the sea". I lost count of the times I caught him eating a handful of sand, bits of seashell and seaweed- and I shudder to think what else. Funny thing is, he didn't even spit it out. In fact, he seemed to quite enjoy it. Strange baby.
Anyway, fun times were had by all! I'm already looking at holidays for mext year.

Crazy Mother
x

Why oh why did I ever long for a garden?

2009-08-04T16:29:00.000-07:00

The school holidays are in full swing. The kids are climbing the walls (I know only Girl1 is usually in school, but when she starts whining 'I'm booooooored!!!', Girl2 usually chimes in). They've been playing in "The Garden", AKA bit of dirt and brown grass at the back of our house, whenever the weather permits. Today must have been National Bug on a Stick Day or something, because it seems like all they've done is run in the house with a bug on a stick, going 'Look, mum! A centipede/caterpillar/snail/tarantula!!' and waving it in my face, all while I'm trying not the shriek and squash their new pet with a big shoe. I had the genius idea of telling them they could plant seeds in the garden and grow plants. Cool! Except that they've planted pumpkin seeds, pepper seeds, apple seeds, a whole banana (?), orange seeds and an onion (basically whatever fruit or veg I happen to be cooking with that day), and now feel the need to inform me every 2.9 seconds that nothing has grown yet. No matter how many times I explain the them that things take a long time to grow (I decided not to crush their dreams by telling them it's highly unlikely that anything is going to grow in the barren, dry clay, I mean soil, in our garden)they still insist on asking me. All. The. Time. That's going to get a tad annoying over the next few weeks. I'm tempted to go and stick some carrots in the ground with the tops poking out, and tommorrow say 'Look, kids! Look what's grown! Never mind, how did a carrot grow from a banana and some pumpkin seeds, the important thing is that you grew it! Well done!'. I've had enough of having a garden now, it's no fun any more. I had visions of lush green grass, beautiful foliage and brightly coloured, fragrant flowers everywhere. Then I remembered that I'm not at all green-fingered. In fact, I'd be lucky to keep a plastic plant alive. The Husband is going to attack it with a lawnmower again, anyway, and see if he can't get it looking halfway decent. I'm not holding my breath.

On a brighter note, I get a night off tomorrow! After a day of avoiding bugs, sweeping up soil that's been traipsed through the house and lying to my children about their agricultural attempts, The Husband and I are going to the cinema! I'm not sure what I'm more excited about, going to see the new Harry Potter movie or getting a night off. Is it weird to be this excited about going to the cinema for the evening?

Until next time,

Crazy Mother

x

Happy Birthday!

2009-07-25T14:08:00.000-07:00

Today was Girl2's birthday! She turned 3 years old. Time flies when you're having fun, doesn't it? It's hard to believe that 3 years ago, she was a tiny, squirmy squished-up baby, just hours old. Ah, listen to me, I'm getting all nostalgic and misty-eyed. Now, as I'm relaxing with glass of red wine, is the only chance I've had all day to get nostalgic and misty-eyed! I hadn't planned a party this year. I decided that, after a stressful few weeks (moving house, amongst other things) that a lovely, relaxing birthday at home, with family dropping in throughout the day, was the way to go. No organizing lots of party food, invitations, entertainment, not to mention the expense. We'd wake up, open Girl2's gifts, have breakfast together, and spend the day cuddling, reading stories, playing games and enjoying family time together. I didn't factor into that a jealous 5 year old, a teething baby, Husband having to work and the constant stream of visitors. I soon realised that renting the local soft play space wold have been the easier option. Girl2 decided halfway through the day that she didn't like being a 'big girl' any more, and announced that it was no longer her birthday. Then got mad when Girl1 decided she would take over the role of birthday girl, and play on the new High School Musical trampoline (which, by the way, I had to search high and low for- the things we do for our kids). But what's done is done. The kids are in bed (FINALLY! It's 10.15PM as I write this), the house is still in one piece(ish) and we have leftover birthday cake (woohoo!). Another birthday, and I survived to tell the tale! I really shouldn't complain about these things, I'm told. Before long she'll be on holidays/night out with her friends to celebrate her birthday, and I'll be yearning for birthday parties with pink cakes, balloons, jelly and ice cream and toddler tantrums. You could probably bet your bottom dollar that, if I'm still writing this blog then, I'll be writing a nostalgic and misty-eyed blog entry about when she was a sweet, angelic three year old, eating pink cakes, playing with balloons and bouncing on a High School Musical trampoline, then falling asleep in her dads arms, exhausted but the happiest little girl in the world.
I'm going before I set myself off again.

Until next time,

Crazy Mother x

I'm a blogging virgin...

2009-07-23T09:24:00.000-07:00

...so forgive me if this is long, rambling or boring (who am I kidding, it'll probably be all three). Please bear with me while I get the hang of this thing.
I suppose I should start by telling you all a wee bit about myself. Well, I'm a 20-something mother of three wonderful (maddening, at times, but nonetheless wonderful) children. I have a 5 year old girl (who shall henceforth be known as Girl1) who is too smart for her own good, at times. She's getting to the whiny teenage "It's just not FAAAAAIR!!" stage about 7 years too early, I think. But she's such a lovely, kind girl who'd do anything for anyone. Girl2 will turn 3 years old this coming Saturday. She's an absolute sweetheart, who could melt anyone with a bat of her long, dark eyelashes, but she has a mischeivous streak (apparently she gets it from her mother. Moi? Mischeivous? Never!). Such a cutie, anyway. And then there's Baby. He's my son, he's 11 months old, and I think the poor little guy has already resigned himself to the fact that he's pretty much going to be bossed around by his big sisters forever. He's already officially 'the doggy' when they play house, I really don't think there's much hope for him now. He's a sweet little fella, and it just about starting to walk (and run, and crawl, and climb, and pull things down, and hide behind furniture...). So, that's my kids. I'm a stay at home mother (a crazy one, hence the title of my blog) while Husband works full time. I'm pretty sure I was teetering on the edge of crazy before I had my kids, they just about tipped me over. Girl1 is already displaying signs of aforementioned crazyness, so maybe it's hereditary.
Wow, look at that. I'm already rambling. I'll tell you all a bit about my day, then leave it at that, for now.
I woke up today at 5.30am to the sound of buzzing (you ever have it when you can hear something in your sleep, and you think it's part of your dream, then you wake up only to realise it wasn't a dream, and you could actually hear it?). The buzzing turned out to be 6 large, pissed off wasps which had gotten into our bedroom through a vent. Turns out there's a wasps nest outside our window. So, after jumping round waving my arms like a lunatic for a few moments, I ran down to get a can of Raid to kill them. I was certainly awake by now, anyway. No better wake up call than a battle with a small swarm of angry wasps. We've now blocked the vent up, anyway, so hopefully it isn't an experience I'll be repeating any time soon.
Once we were all up and fed, we decided to go and play in the park (less than one week into the summer holidays, and I'm already running out of fun things to keep the kids occupied/burn off some energy. It's going to be a looong six weeks). Then it rained. Then it stopped raining. Then it started again. So, we decided to go feed the ducks instead. Ducks live in water, they must like the rain, right? Wrong. Not a duck in sight. Home we trudged, in the rain, bag of stale bread (AKA: Duck food) in hand, feeling slightly deflated.
Only 42 days left of this.
Don't you love the Great British Summer?

Until next time,

Crazy Mother.
x