Job Search

I am torturing myself with a job search this evening. I do not know why I am doing this, as at the present time returning to work is as far off as a full night's sleep, or a fancy night out for me and Rob (well just me actually as Rob is having a night out after work, while I have an early night so I can run in the morning, the excitment is killing me!) I am feeling the role of the down trodden housewife too much, and I need an escape. Why don't I look for something acheivable? Because I do like to make life complicated, and spend time gazing into the distance with a wistful look in my eyes. I must learn to take pleasure in the little things, like Josef cheering because his friend is coming to play tomorrow, plus his mum so I will have company too, see there's a positive already. I must repeat this as my mantra, until I find my balance, or is that too much hippy shit for one evening?

Tummy troubles return

And we all have them. Poor poor Josef has been poorly. A bad tummy, sickness and now he is in danger of being hospitalised because of dehydration, so I am pumping apple juice, imodium and rehydration drinks into him as fast I can. On top of that we saw the health visitor today, who was a harbinger of doom as usual, and she thinks Felix might have a problem with his feet. Anything else! On the plus side it is Mothering sunday in two days, so I am hoping for a lie in!!

We have survived! The biggest earthquake to hit Britain in 25 years and I was awake to feel it. I came down stairs to ask Rob if he had felt the house shaking, and he just looked at me blankly and carried on playing x-box. I am very proud that I can tell my children when it happened I was feeding Felix and that Daddy didn't even notice, the earthquake that is, not the fact that I was feeding. And today the news is now full of the event, and the unluckiest person in the country, the only one to be injured, who happened to be in bed when his chimney pot fell on him.

Cloth Nappies

I use cloth nappies for Felix and I did with Josef too. I am still using the same set for Felix as I did for Josef, although I am starting to think the time has come for the outer wraps to be replaced, as come the summer I don't think any self respecting child could be seen crawling happily aroung the park in the grey nappies we have on show at the moment. So a little more than £200 has lasted me 1 and 1/2 children which I am quite proud of, because although I am not normally known as a skinflint the lack of disposable (not just for disposables!) income has certainly made me feel proud of my eco-friendly ethics. On the other hand in the middle of the night, when Felix has an upset tummy and I am trying to change a smelly bottom in the dark, disposables might have come as a welcome change, for their quick and easy approach.

I have certainly eaten to much chocolate today, and despite the fact it was fair trade chocolate, I don't think my waist line will thank me for it. The joys of chopping down a big tree were felt yesterday by Rob, who was sent out into the garden, with the instuctions not to return until he had removed most of the offending vegetation in our garden. Offending because with a garden measuring 20ft by 30ft a pine tree almost as tall as your house is more of an eyesore than an asset, hogging precious space I greedily covet for a shed. Poor old Josef has been ill again, throwing up all over himself, his bed and his Barney the dinosaur in the process. The good thing is his colostomy bag has remained intact throughout, it is a joyless task cleaning up after a little boy with an upset tummy and a flapping bag. Having said that he took it off in the bath tonight, just to make up for it.

And I thought I was going to have a quiet evening, Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha (I could go on). Josef has now finally gone to bed, after several attempts to pull his colostomy bag off (I told you it wasn't as much fun as it sounds) and a bag blow out, so a full change there then. I thought I was going to get off lightly as he had been with Chris all day, who is fab with him and always notices any problems, but I was too optimistic this evening. Felix is in the living room, fast asleep in his chair as he has been for exactly 41 mins and counting.
My bridemaid and her husband are coming tomorrow for a visit, she is pregnant, which I am very excited about ( I am finding that too many pregnancies in close proximity to my life get me far too excited, I thought I would have got over that by now, having had two children of my own, but perhaps it never goes away), and may want to talk about home births. Perhaps I should produce a pack, or write a pamphlet about it to hand out, to promote the joys of home birth, like using your own bath and loo, I think those were my main ones, oh and not having to get in the car when I was in labour, I can't imagine, being in the middle of it all and then having to jump in the peugeot and dash off to the nearest hospital, and then be poked and prodded by a doctor. I can feel the rampant hippy in me rising to the surface again.

When I was a young girl I had a very wild imagination, I dreamt of being an illustrious star of stage and screen and would spend many hours practising singing and dancing, squirrelled away from my sisters. One of my practising spots was not as isolated as I thought, being as it was in the middle of the front garden in front of the dining room and living room windows. The story is still told about how my big sister caught me out there in a polka dot bikini and high heels, singing into a stick. I was about six at the time. Another of my favourite dreams was that I would be singing in my room, and practising my dance routine to Rick Astley, who was my all time fave, when none other than his manager would be driving through our little village in his blacked out limo, and would happen to glance up and see me illuminated in my bedroom window. At once he would instruct the driver to pull over and knock on the front door and enquire who the talented young girl in the window was. I would be instantly whisked away to begin a long and successful career as Rick Astley's foremost backing singer, although whether Rick Astley would want with an eight year old girl in his line up on stage is debatable, but this didn't occur to me at the time.

The Josef free day is over and I am just waiting for him to get home. Felix is fast asleep, but I am doing the countdown until he wakes agian so I probably have about 27 minutes. I once had a sleeping baby and I took it for granted, but now I think if Felix didn't wake up I would, and not be able to go back to sleep again. I am tired to the point of delirium and imagine myself lying on a sunny beach, with a cocktail in one hand and a trashy holiday novel in the other, with a lovely tan, and a flat pre-baby tummy. I can dream.

I have an uncanny knack of managing to make myself feel under a huge amount of pressure. Take today for instance, Josef has gone out, Felix is asleep, I have some time to myself, but instead of relaxing I have given myself a long list of things I HAVE to do before this evening. Are these the actions of a sane woman, or this something everyone does when they have a bit of free time, well anyone with children, as before I became a mum I would have lay in bed until 12ish, watch a couple of films maybe, done some shopping and generally had a me me me day. Ah what a lovely life and how lucky I was, if only I had known then what I know now I would have stayed in bed for longer!

I have a whole day without josef tomorrow and instead of pampering myself and sleepign when Felix sleeps, I am going to do something very silly and cut down the bushes in the front garden. Is this really a constructive use of my time? Will I feel better once they have gone? Or should I just leave it to Rob and put my feet up all day? We await the outcome with baited breath.

Well I have decided that I am going to commit to my writing, which means you lucky people will get more insights into my exciting life, as well as many quirky but amusing anecdotes, I can here you all holding your breath in anticipation, as my literary aspirations come flooding out onto the page. That is all for now as Felix is crying...again.

I have just thought of a brilliant new invention. I have decided to make a full body cast of myself and strap it on to rockers. I will dress it in my clothes, put my moisturises, make up, perfum etc on it, on the fron it will have a baby harness, which whenever Felix wakes up, every half an hour or so, it seems at the moment, I can put him in it and it will rock him back to sleep. It will be ergomically tested so he can stay it in all night if he needs to. I think I am on to a winner here, it will make millions.

Just back from visiting Nanny's house and found all the garden at the front has been dug up, and a modern design put in it's place. Some of the garden at the back has been fenced off, and now the foundations of a house are beginning to appear. I thought I was going to be broken hearted at the desecration of my childhood home, but it actually looks really nice. The gossip mill in the village is going into overdrive and people who don't even know what the house looks like have an opinion on whether it is right that someone should be having a house built in their garden and doesn't it change the look of the village, despite the fact there is a large new estate and several new executive homes that have sprung up in various locations. The real issue people have is that Mum is not a local (after all she has only lived there for 25 years) so really she shouldn't be able to do that sort of thing. The joy of living in a village is every one knowing your business, except most people that live there have moved down from London and drive large cars and have no idea who their neighbours are, they just like to join the parish council which gives them some power and an instant VIP pass into the community, and talk in very loud voices in the local pub, while the people who have lived there forever retreat further into the corner and glower into their cider.

Running again today, I am just going to be so fit it will be impossible to stop me running at this rate. Rob is off in Manchester so I am home alone tonight, very scary. I did try and persuade Josef to sleep in my bed tonight but he decided it would be better to sleep in his room , I though he would have jumped at the chance as he normally tries to get in there at least once every night. I sure he will appear later. I am in two minds as to whether I should let Happy roam about as my guardian or if I should just lock her away, as I might well wake up with her in bed with me instead, and I don't think I can cope with a doggy smelling bed.
As for my meeting last night, I may have been roped in to being a trustee for the breastfeeding charity. I am not quite sure how that happened, but it was done very quickly and cleverly, and I almost didn't notice myself saying, "Well, if they could have daytime meetings..."

I have been out of the adult world for too long, I have a meeting tonight at 8 o clock and it seems like I should already be in bed by then. I remember when I was only just starting to think about getting ready to go out at 9pm, but those days are long gone, now I would rather have a cup of tea and watch holby city. It seems my youth is now behind me. It is much easier like this though, not having to worry about the latest boyfriend or what I am going to wear tonight, and when I was a student, was I going to manage to get to the laundrete to get everything washed, or should I just nip down to Topshop and buy a new outfit. I was far richer then than I have been since, I wonder what my secret was

It is so cold outside. It is one of those lovely days I always remember from my childhood, where the sun is shining and everything is frosty, where winter was always like this, unless of course it was snowing, which it did every year without fail, deep enough to sledge in, and it normally lasted for months, at least that's what my memory tells me. Josef has been outside smashing up bits of ice with a trowel and generally having a lovely time in our little garden. On saturday, we moved all my important plants over to one side so he and our dog can run around, kicking and throwing things to their hearts content, but now I find that the rockery, where I have put everything, has turned into the best part of the garden and Josef has spent most of his time there, climbing over rocks and hitting things with sticks. I don't think I am ever going to win this battle!

Anohter sleepless night. I am thinking about launching a range of babies that come with a warning and possibly an instruction booklet to let you know how to use them. I'm sure it wasn't that hard the first time round.

It is a sunday evening and I am suffering from lack of direction, I feel all at sea and think it might be because I have closed my ebay shop. Very sad, but really does anyone need the hassle of people being arsey because something they bought for 99p isn't quite right? I am no good at customer relations, I have not got the patience for it, maybe I should employ someone to do it for me.

I am very proud of myself ,as for the first time in my adult life I am getting some exercise and really enjoying it. I think that i might actually stick at it, especially if it turns me into the gorgeous supermodel I imagine myself to be (until I see a photo or look in the mirror that is). Every morning at sunrise (well sort of, it depends what time I managed to get myself to bed the night before) I set off with dog in tow and run round the playing fields, behind the housing estate, I have done a few cross country ones but I was put off when my feet got wet and cold, but I'm sure as my stamina builds I won't care about such trivialities anymore, I am the next Paula Radcliffe. I think I should invest in some proper running gear, because although I have the trainers, the rest of my p.e. kit is cobbled together from an old hoodie, whatever trousers I can find, usually dog walking ones, I do have one pair of track suit bottoms, but they are three quarter length and it has been a bit chilly of late, so I haven't really been brave enough to wear them, and this morning I had to add an enormous pair of woolly gloves to the ensemble, so the look I achieve is somewhere between an escapee from a large institution, and someone who has come out very early to look for something they have lost. Possibly not great, but I have taken to not wearing my glasses so even if people look at me and think I am odd, I can't see their stares so I don't care.

When my sister asked me the other day if having children meant that you could just act like an idiot and not get embarrased any more, I denied it, but I think I am going to have to review that position, after catching myself singing a high speed version of three blind mice in the bathroom, while Josef wiggled in time on the bath mat. I have never been the most uninhibited person, but if it is something that will make the kids laugh then I will do it. Not as bad as Rob, who as soon as he walks through the front door in the afternoon starts wrestling Josef and continues to do that until he goes back to work.

I am so tired I could sleep for a hundred years, although even if I was offered all that sleep I would probably automatically wake up at 6:30 wondering why I was still asleep, and then be wide awake for the rest of the day. Dispite this tiredness I very nobly got up and walked the dog this morning after staying up far too late last night in the name of romance, and waited for Rob to come home from work. Why do we do these things when we already know we are knackered. A glass of wine doesn't help, and after just one I can offer no resistance to suggestions that are made to me. Will I ever learn?

My sister is having a baby and I am very excited for her, she has even given up smoking this time so it must be serious. I am also a bit envious as I always am of people having babies, I think it is all the possibilities that lie in front on them, that special feeling that you are carrying a child, and all the endless choices you have to make, and that magical moment when you finally give birth after all that waiting. Saying that I am planning too many thing this year to think about another baby, and I don't want my baby tummy to get any worse. So whether the main reason is vanity or lack of sleep I think I will wait to coo over her baby instead of having another one of my own, for the moment anyway. I reserve the right to change my mind at any moment and to retract all statements previously made.

Valentines day today and I wonder how many of us are sitting disappointed, wishing they had been given more, or anything at all. I have always thought that valentines day was a pretty rubbish idea, not because I have never had on, as some of you may now be thinking, but if you can pull out all the stops on one day of the year, shower someone with gifts and declarations of love, why can't you do more of it for the rest of the year? Is it so special because you don't often hear the tender mumuring of your loved one on any other day, have they been inspired by a thorton's advert or were the chocolates and flowers all their idea? This year me and josef made a card for daddy and decorated some biscuits instead of going to the shop to spend lots of money. It seems that it is just another occasion when we are bombarded with ads and incentives to spend lots of money, along with easter (the cards and eggs have been in the co-op since 1st jan and I am not exagerating) when now it is not just easter eggs but easter presents(!?), christmas of course goes without saying, how many times have I heard people saying they are still skint from Christmas, when really it is only one day and surely it is the thought that counts? I am sat here alone, because Rob is working, cooking very expensive meals for people who have chosen to go out and eat (there is a set menu which is more expensive than the usual one and they are fully booked). I was going to wait up for him to come home, but I am knackered and can just as easily say nice things to him tomorrow as I can today.

There are lullabies playing in the bedroom and Felix has been asleep for more than half an hour, call me an optimist but I am getting excited! I have put them on repeat so they can play until I go to bed, but I don't think my husband will want to be lulled to sleep by soft singing when he gets in from work, but I could be wrong.
Valentines day later this week and I am filled with the usual antipathy for it. When you are married to a chef you tend not to get too excited about these things. I have learnt to sit in on Valentines night and watch something as far away from romance as possible. Maybe this year I could take myself to the cinema and watch the new Rambo movie, on the other hand where would I get a baby sitter from? Never mind, I can look forward to a night away next month in a posh hotel,as Rob won it in a raffle, the Joy of Corporate Golf days! Lets hope Felix is sleeping by then.

It is official, I am the best three year old birthday party organiser in the world. A lovely time was had by all including of course the birthday boy, and they all loved the climbing frame so my freezing fingers were justified. Now I am knackered and the house has definetely seen better days, what with visiting sisters and grandparents and nieces and nephews.
Now I need a secret recipe to make a nine month old sleep. I am ready to drop and the amount of times I have now seen "cribs" at five oclock in the morning has turned from an amusing anecdote into a early morning routine. I am trying baby massage, I am trying aromatherapy, I have tried calpol and teething stuff but nothing works, any ideas?

The Party

I have built the climbing frame, which now sits in the middle of our tiny garden with balloons attached, the cake is made and decorated, although it looks more like an entry to a W.I baking competition than a three year old's birthday cake, but it certainly better than last year's effort! The party bags are packed and I am ready with play dough, colouring in and building blocks, although the play dough was too red and not pink for Josef's tastes. And all this has been done in a mere matter of three hours. I am super mum. Here's to tomorrow, the party of the year, and if Josef doesn't enjoy it I shall remind him that I am missing a hen night for this.

Contented little baby

On the subject of that, it is a sad sad place we have reached if we all need a book to tell us how to feed our children, get them to sleep, and get them into a routine that is so by the clock that if you put one foot out of line then you are doomed to fail. Surely when you have a baby you have to respond to it's needs, not get it to fit into a routine as quickly as possible. I have two children, neither of which sleeps through the night very often, but I will never leave them to cry for long periods of time, becausealthough I know they have slept through before, they probably need something this time, I will feed my baby on demand, even if he is nine months old. Our society is becoming less focused on the children and more on them fitting in, adapting to our way of life so we can carry on much as we did before they came along. I have heard so many people bemoaning the fact that their evenings have disappeared, the closest thing to a social life they have is baby group and all they ever do is talk about children, but that is what happens when you have children. A relationship with children is much like being in love, it fills your whole life, and consumes everything, nothing can ever be the same after they arrive, you want to spend every moment possible with them, and when they are not there they are constantly in your thoughts. Our society with it's huge financial pressures and it's non-stop tread mill of work, allows no time for people to be parents, but they can't shout stop because they want to get off. Dad is given two weeks off when baby is first born, but this is inevitably filled with visitors and well wishers, then off he goes again as if nothing has happened, mum is generously given nine months, but then has to go back at one of the most interesting phases of baby's little life, of course when she returns she has to work twice as hard to prove herself. If she dares to ask for flexible working or part time hours her life is made even more difficult. Plus she feels that all the hard work she put in before she had that baby has gone to waste, people don't take her seriously any more, and she has to make a choice, career or baby. She is made to feel a failure if she does not continue to climb the career ladder, and of course the very helpful government put in place child tax credits, so she can afford child care and work full time, but then of course she is bad mother, her children need her so why is she at work? Their bad behaviour and poor mental health is her responsibility and the blame for the decline of morals and rise of teenage pregnancy can be laid squarely at her door. So can we ever win? Yes of course, pay a stranger to look after your children, as long as they have a good ofstead report that is fine, work yourselves into the ground so that you can afford a good holiday, a nicer car, a bigger house, or we could all slow down a little bit. Who care about the number of bathrooms, or the model of the car as long as we are all happy, but then that is probably the hippy in me talking.
(We only have one car that is eight years old, and we don't have an ensuite, although secretly I would like one.)

I smell of sick. This is not a normal thing for me, but Josef has just thrown up everywhere, looks as if the worrying about the birthday party might have been in vain. But one good thing is the climbing frame has arrived (hooray) so at least he will have something for his birthday. Why is it babies are alway grizzly when you least want them to be, I can hear Felix upstairs and am wondering whether to go and get him or let him grizzle himself to sleep. The Contented Little Baby book advocates might be able to step in here and assure me in a firm manner that baby will be fine, and if it is not part of his usual routine them I should just leave him. Perhaps I will just tiptoe up the stairs and check, but then if he catches sight of me he will start again and we return to that same dilemma.

Oh, and I think I have invited too many people, only five, maybe seven at the most, children, but then they all come with appendages, and some are coming with both parents, plus Mother, two sisters and a husband, and me and Rob, whoops, could get a bit claustrophobic in the kitchen and we can't even spread to the living room as it is upstairs and I think I am going to hide the dog there, plus it is too wet to play outside and the climbing frame that was ordered from the early learning centre has apparently been lost (boo hiss) so even if it is a nice day there is nothing to play on in the garden. I suppose they could just play on the tractor. Are these events really supposed to be so complex? I'm off to check the weather forcast.

I am trying to make a Simpsons birthday party, anybody got any ideas? I know that I am not a skilled enough baker to fashion a Homer or Bart shaped cake, although I suppose I could get some yellow food colouring and make springfield buns (must store that idea for later, it just came to me), but the truth is how many three year olds are really going to know who the Simpsons are? Perhaps I should conduct a survey. Josef doesn't want party games, he wants painting, play dough and colouring in, but I haven't put that on the invitation, is too late to call the mums and ask them to bring appropriate clothing or should I just wing it and hide the paints on the morning so no one gets covered? Perhaps we could play pin the hair on Marge or the tail on their dog or cat (another one for my memory store!) We have printed some pictures off to stick on the walls but it does look a bit half hearted, as if I am a free and easy mother who lets my children decorate the house in any way they see fit, which could be true.
I could just go in to woolies and buy the table cloth, the balloons, the cups, the plates, the napkins, the party bags and everything to go in them, but that would kind of blow the budget for the rest of the month, which is quite tight, after paying for the car to be fixed, the water bill, the playgroup fees and a bar tab of a hundred pounds that mysteriously appeared at Rob's work ("I can't think how it got so much" Hmmm), so maybe we should just settle for yellow balloons and yellow playdough, and yellow everything else, and if the other mum's think I either couldn't be bothered or am wierd, then let them.

A long day

Well, I think my long day may be drawing to a close, but you never know do you? I can still hear lots of coughing upstairs so I will keep my fingers crossed that neither of the children wakes themselves or each other up. I did try to be good today by having a rest when they were both asleep but then the tesco's online shopping was calling me (need to stock up for a birthday party on saturday) and then I just get lost in the sprawling metropolis of the internet, most of the time I am just looking at crap, but sometimes I might come across something interesting that actually makes some sense to me, like a website call Pullthru I think for parents like us whose child has had bowel surgery. When Josef was first born I spent hours trawling through websites looking for something I could read or someone I could get in touch with who might understand what we had been through with various surgeries and long periods of time in hospital, and particularly Hirschsrpungs disease, but I couldn't find anywhere, then out of nowhere this popped up the other day, and the first page has a brilliant introduction about having a baby and something unexpected happening. I won't repeat what it says, but I thought it was brilliant, so definetely one to look at if you want a bit of support, or something to make you smile, be warned though, it did also bring a lump to my throat. It is an american site, so not very local to us but still there might be someone out there who can answer a few questions for us.
It has been raining on and off all day and the wind has been incredible, everyone, especially the poor old dog, is feeling cooped up, which can only lead to grumpy children and an even grumpier me, even the suggestion of cake making couldn't shift poorly Josef from his place in front of the television. An interesting question, does it make me a bad mother if I let my ill child watch tv all day, is it acceptable when they are ill, or should I still be providing valid learning experiences whilst mopping up snot and ladleling out calpol? That will give me something to think about, if I can't find anything else to feel guilty about today. The lot of a mother.

Not another one.

Another day, another cold, we have two small boys curled up asleep, as they have been struck down by yet another winter bug, this is neverending. I never knew that being a mother could be such hard work. 5:15am this morning I was enscounced on the sofa watching "Ice Age" so Rob could get some sleep, and Josef and Felix could cough as much as they wanted to, without disturbing him. In the last three weeks I have never seen so many 3:15ams or hours that in my previous life were unknown to me unless I was staggering in drunk or doing a night duty. And when my childless friends accuse me of having an easy life, of watching nothing but Jeremy Kyle I will say nothing, but smile knowingly and look forward to the day that they complain about being tired, of having a baby that won't sleep or is teething, and I will not say I told you so.