Sunday, 21 December 2008

Now we are *nearly* two

So. It's Lal's birthday tomorrow. My baby turns two. I'm not tidying up and preparing for it in an effort to pretend it's not happening. He's a baby.. not a toddler. Pfft.

Oh, and I've not been around for a while as K is starting an all out offensive to be allowed to come home and I've been hiding from the computer. He sends me emails with songs from youtube on and they are very difficult to ignore. This is what I mean.. Now you try and fail to be moved..

We went to Mass this morning, after a fairly long not going time. I've not been in the right head space to go, but now it's nearly actual Christmas, I need to make the effort.

We got there late, which was bad and meant we had nowhere to sit. Other than a small space at the back which holds the spare hymn books, notice board and a few oddly broken chairs. Lal, of course, was in heaven with all the books and sat quite happily for 30 mins. Just the odd shout of "Cheeses" - Jesus, "Ah Moon" - Amen and "Good God... ell done" Quite why he says well done to God is anyone's guess, but the sentiment is ok.. About 20 minutes before the end, Lal noticed the notice board, studied it for a while and then did what any self respecting nearly 2 year would do.. and tried to eat a yellow drawing pin. His ever vigilant sister, G the brave, saw this and stopped him. This produced a tantrum of epic proportions. So loud that we had to leave Mass early as the screams were literally echoing from the rafters. We got in the car and sat in it for half an hour as we were blocked in the car park.. gave us time to reflect.. And for G to endlessly apologise for daring to prevent death by drawing pin.

Once home, I did the Yummy Mummy thing (I have an apron that proclaims I am one) and made 48 mince pies. 48. And we don't even like them.. but they were supposed to be taken to my parents for Lal's unbirthday party. I forgot them. And the unbirthday cake. So now we have two for tomorrow. *sigh* We did drop some of with the Priests... as I haven't been to Mass, I'm trying to get back into good books. G misheard when I said a light sprinkling of icing sugar on top, so the poor men may now be suffering from diabetes.. Christmas spirit though, right?

Lal largely ignored everything birthday like sadly. He's been told so many times to leave the presents under the tree alone, I think he now has a present phobia and refused to go near, let alone open the ones he got today. And that makes it very difficult to show gratitude for them. Sorry mum! Sorry dad, He does love Thomas really..

Can put it off no longer.. I should wrap his presents, and make good the birthday room. Just think.. this time two years ago I wasn't even in labour.. not for another 3 hours.

K xx

Thursday, 11 December 2008

The Cautionary Tale of Language Development

Lal's nursery and I are working together to find a solution to the problem, but I just can't think of anything that we can do. I've been trying to change it for weeks now, and nothing works. Nothing.

I may have mentioned that Lal's speech is coming along quite nicely now. He only has one sentence "Want Daddy now.." but the single words are endless. He does, however, have two words for things which are.. well rude. So please don't read on if you are easily offended. *sigh*

Yesterday at nursery, it was Music Day. They had marraccas, triangles, cymbals, drums, keyboards.. you know, all the things that I have to take a migraine pill before I can allow him to play with them at home. And there were singing plans.

The first song was an innocuous one about houses. "This is the house that Jack built" to be precise.

This is the malt that lay in the house..that Jack built.

Perfectly pleasant words. Nice tune. Unfortunately, Lal can't say "house." He does love to sing though, so babbled meaninglessly until he shouted the word "ARSE" As in, "this is the arse that Jack built." There are 12 verses, each verse contains the word arse. There are now 6 other children who think that house is pronounced arse. I'm expecting parental letters.

The staff were a little confused, and worried, but must have thought that they'd be safe if they sang "5 little speckled frogs." I promise, if I'd known, I'd have warned them. I really would. You see, Lal can't say frog either. But he can recognise them. Ones we see in shops, ones we see in books, in the park, everywhere. And he loves frogs.

So, they started singing..

" 5 little speckled frogs, sat on a speckled log, eating some nice delicious worms.. yum yum.."

Lal's ears pricked up.. the cogs in his mind started turning.. he saw the picture of the frog in the book.. "F*CK.. a F*CK" I think the nursery staff when slightly green, but gamely carried on singing. Every verse again, "4 little speckled f*cks, sat on a speckled luck, eating some nice delicious worms, yum yum...3 little speckled f*cks.. " And because he only sings that one word, well two if you count "luck".. and is so proud of knowing the word.. and singing the word, he sings it so loudly, so that everyone can hear. A roomful of toddlers shouting profanity. Only one of my children could cause that.

One of the women, who informed me what had happened afterwards, said that by the time there was only one speckled f*ck left, even she was singing the wrong word. Another staff member had to leave the room due to hysterical laughter. I'm so proud.

I'm not sure when they are doing another music day, but I've asked them to check the songs they will be doing with me first. And today, Lal and I will be learning the "og" sound.

K xx

Tuesday, 9 December 2008

Chapter 77

Balls. I had it all written out and pressed back on the browser and lost it all. I really hate myself sometimes. Start again hey?

I spent the weekend with a man. And I spent most of it in bed. A real actual man too, not a Lal sized one. Wow.

As part of the positive parenting experiment G and I headed off for some quality alone time on Friday night. I dropped Lal off with a working from home in his heated flat K, and went to pick G up from school. Had a slight nag at her unwillingness to get changed in the car, even though I was holding her blazer to cover her - pfft, some children - and off we went to a manicure nail salon place. It was run by giggling Vietnamese people, who were brilliant, but were no doubt giggling due to the fumes. Despite never having actually been high, I've no doubt that I was on my way to getting there. Very light headed, I only just managed to veto G's order of false nails. And then she wanted jewels on her real nails, but was put off (and slightly green) when I told her that they had to drill into her nails and hook the jewel in. I've no idea how true that is, but it did the job.

We then went disco clothes shopping. She wouldn't set foot in Laura Ashley for some reason, so the delights of Tammy gave us a boob tube dress, cardigan shrug thingy, high heeled shoes, footless tights and heart pendant #48695. I think my lips bled from the biting they received, but positive parenting won out and the arguments were avoided.

Picked up Lal, came home, had takeaway, cooked popcorn and settled down on the sofa to watch I'm a Celebrity and see who won. I'm informed that I fell asleep at 9.07 and only woke when her scream of delight that Joe won pierced my dreams. And then I fell back asleep again. So much for together time hey? Poor little girl. She had to stay up till 2 watching films and Hannah Montana whilst I slept on the sofa.Next to her. Feel sorry for her. Do.

K arrived to pick up the children on Saturday morning. Alarm bells should have rung when he got here early.. but I was too woolly headed from the sofa sleeping, the cold that still refuses to go (is 2 weeks a record?) and the fumes from the manicure place. He also arrived with a bag. Apparently, the heating in his flat, that was working perfectly the night before, had died and there was no way he could take the children there. Obviously. So could he stay?

I felt so ill, I'm pretty sure I said yes before he'd finished speaking, but I did manage to make it perfectly clear that I would be in bed, dying, and all child related responsibilty was his. And he could sleep on the bed that is cunningly disguised as a sofa, in the playroom.

To give him credit, which I hate to do, he was very good. I wasn't woken or bothered by them at all.. and he kept bringing me cups of tea and food. Whilst giving me the "you're not eating enough" stare, but you can't have everything.

One upside is that Lal is now a complete daddy's boy, which is fab. And G didn't go near her computer all weekend. K even bought us a Chinese once the children were in bed and we sat and ate and talked. It was nice, uncomfortable, but nice. In a way.

He somehow invited himself to come back next weekend and help put the decorations up.. not sure how I feel about that though. On the one hand, they are his children too, and why should he miss something like that? But on the other, it seems a bit too family like and we're not back there yet.. if we get there at all. I have no problems with him spending Christmas Day/Boxing Day here, it's Lal's first proper Christmas (ok, the 3rd, but the other two don't count as he was only 3 days old, and 1 year 3 days old) and he shouldn't miss that... but putting the decorations up? Spending another weekend here? Cos I know that will happen... not sure I'm ready for that.

See what happens when I write and I'm still nail varnished high? And suffering from evil colds? I go all deep and meaningful. This must stop.

It's supposed to be my alone time, Lal's at nursery.. ooh he now loves it there completely. Actually pushed me out of the door this morning to make me leave. Nice huh? They break up on Friday for the Christmas break.. what am I going to do? He wakes up every morning acking for school.. I'm going to have to buy desks.. and friends.. and create his own school here.

(Oh, and the weekend in bed with a man? I spent the weekend in bed, the man was here, but never the two shall meet.. Innocent)

K xx

Wednesday, 3 December 2008

Just call me Delilah

Before I start.. here, photographic evidence. Wearing the same jumper, both pre and post butchering.




You see? He's a different child.. and far too grown up. And I think all his good humour was contained within the hair as he's been a whinging whine bag all day. Grow hair, grow.

Other than that source of depression, it's been a good day. I have officially finished all my Christmas shopping. Well except for the food. But if I buy that now it'll go off. Lal fell asleep in the pushchair about 2 minutes after leaving the car park, which was brilliant as it enabled me to shop without having to stop every two minutes to plug him back in. To the pushchair.. not a battery source.. ooh, but how good would that be? A natural break everytime a toddler's batteries ran out.. *daydreams longingly*
Which reminds me.. his continual eating of my mobile phone has left it unable to charge. I don't know why.. but there is sort of green goo in the charging bit and now it fails to recognise when it's plugged in. I may have to buy yet another one. Pfft.

I was in the car coming back home, shopping laden, when there was an absolutely brilliant advert on the radio (Magic FM... all songs I know) from the NHS. Apparently.. when you sneeze or cough, the best thing to do is to use a tissue to stop the germs spreading. Now, I didn't know that and can now see, by dint of ridiculously expensive advertising campaign, that yes, a tissue will protect those around me.. and stop snot running down my face. It also helpfully told me that when I have used the tissue, I should put it in the bin. Genius idea. Nice to know that the NHS is spending their money wisely.

That's it for tonight, I am pretending to put the Tesco shop away, Lal's toys away, do the ironing and empty the recycling for tomorrow's collection.. so if anyone asks, you didn't see me.

K xx

Tuesday, 2 December 2008


I've been ill, hence the lack of words. Not just ill. Really ill. Stupid cold. It's refused to either go away or kill me and I'm fed up now. The house is littered with tissues, empty lemsip packets, lockets and tunes wrappers and I'm still not well. Stupid cold.

And the cold made me do something unforgiveable. Something so heinous, so incredibly wrong that our already fractured family may never recover.

Lal has had a haircut. It's been bothering me for ages, the bit of hair on the back of his head that jutted out in a tangled, matted triangle. Doting and obsessed mummy aside, it made him look a bit deformed.

That's no excuse for the butchery that happened today though. Somehow, he ended up with a short back and sides. There are no curls at all. None. They didn't even appear at bathtime tonight, when I kept putting a wet flannel on his head and twirling the 1cm hair round my fingers.

The worst thing? He now looks like a BOY. Not a baby, not really even a toddler.. an actual boy. It's like he should be off to big school tomorrow. I hate it.

He was excellently behaved whilst in the butchers though. Sat perfectly still reading a book. I sat, looking in the mirror, trying to summon the courage to ask the woman to stop snipping away. I didn't want to be rude though, so stayed quiet. And wept quietly inside.

I'm going to make him wear lots of hats until it's grown back. And he's going to be a hippy. And never have a haircut again.

Even G hates it. I just tucked her into bed, told her that I loved her, and that she is my girl. My best girl (I'm trying positive reinforcement as a behaviour modification tool) Her reply? "Yes mum, I know.. and Lal is your short haired freak.." Nice.. but true. The poor hair. *sobs*

Oh yes, and he started nursery again.. after not having gone for about 6 weeks.. he recognised the car park and ran in the opposite direction. I caught him and he screamed piteously as I took him inside. And cried more once in there. Until he saw the really fancy hoover (toy one) that they have.. and left me without a backward glance... Oh, the hoover is FAB! It says.."Come on.. let's get cleaning..." I ordered one from Amazon within 49 seconds of coming home.

Hmm... I wonder if his hair will grow back quicker if I pull it...

K x