19
Dec
2010
Getting even more traditional – could yum cha be the key?
possibly my favourite tradition. I know, I'm shallow like that.
I saw this great post the other day on a website. It was all about the traditions this mother is starting with her family. Some of them were a bit ummm full on (compulsory family hikes are not really going to cut it in our family) but some of them got me thinking about what we’re doing in our house. I’ve covered some of these in earlier posts but for those of you who don’t immediately memorise and take notes (what is WRONG with you people? Don’t you know this stuff is gold?), here are some ideas we are planning on taking up in our little family. (OK, not so little our family as we currently stand at four and are soon to be five but DON’T REMIND ME, I HAVE THE FEAR.)
- Sunday family roasts – as per last week’s post, I am loving this new tradition. Granted, following the first week’s massive success, we can only go backwards from there (witness tonight’s event where daughter refused to eat anything but individual peas. One at a time. Very slowly. Until you wanted to throw each and every pea at the wall), but I am still loving it. Perhaps in warmer times it will become Sunday barbeque night. I love any excuse to break out the tomato sauce.
12
Dec
2010
New family tradition and a shameful confession
I have a shameful confession to make. Although I am boastful and annoyingly proud of my children’s eating regime, we *whispers* never eat as a family. I KNOW. HORRIFYING. I bang on and on about their table manners, I make them eat copious amounts of vegies, I supervise their eating at their little table, I am smug about their love of plain yoghurt.
But it’s not at the big table. It’s not with me and the Captain eating beside them (well, except for obvious shameful stealing of anything that looks good and doesn’t involve broccoli).
It suddenly struck me when we were discussing Christmas lunch – this will be the first year that son will be allowed to sit at the table with us all rather than banished to naptime in his cot – we never ever eat together as a family. Well, except for yum cha/dim sum, where getting food in as fast as you can, drinking juith with a bendy straw and spilling food at the table, is all positively encouraged. Not something I think aunt and uncle will appreciate at carefully laid Christmas feast table.
28
Nov
2010
In which I give you a warning and make an announcement
Sometimes I blame my husband – he said his next wife would do it if I wouldn’t – but mostly I blame my daughter.
There is a point at about nine months when your child, if lucky, is sleeping, eating, crawling, happy and content. Easy to get around, they sit happily in a pram for ages at a time, allowing you to shop, have coffees, shop… so you decide this parenting thing is a lark, may as well have another one.
And so you get pregnant.
And then she wakes up and you discover it was all part of an evil plan to lull you into a false sense of security and propagate the human race.
See, angelic daughter has decided she hates the pram. And the car. Not a huge fan of her cot either while we’re at it. And as for crawling round gently prodding her toys – she’d rather rip wine bottles out of the wine rack, pull appliances off the bench using the 1cm of cord you left dangling, launch herself out of her high chair, scale the stairs at 60kms an hour whenever your back is turned, and my personal favourite of which I never tire – empty out every drawer and cupboard she can lay her hands on. Especially neatly organised Christmas wrapping drawer, ensuring every single roll of ribbon is festively strewn around the living room and red tissue paper is poking suspiciously out of her mouth.
21
Nov
2010
Not a good week in the mothering stakes
with any luck, I won't end up in these
We had gastro round here last week. Or more precisely – I had gastro. Everyone else had a touch (clearly a touch was almost death’s door for husband) and got through with a day or so of feeling unwell. I, however, spent the better part of nine days lying prostrate wherever the moment took me – on the sofa, on my bed, on the bedroom floor, on the front step (much to the confusion of both the 90 year old next door neighbour and the Italian parking attendant).
17
Oct
2010
HERDING CATS. OR HOW TO THROW A KID’S PARTY – PART 3. THE GAMES.
probably not for a 2 year old's party.
OK, this will be my last one on parties I promise. Anyway, I’ve done the planning of the party and the all-important party cake, but I think it is necessary to cover the final essential bits of the party – namely the games. Oh, and I forgot the food – ok, maybe this is the second last.
Firstly, can I highly recommend you find a really dodgy game that involves something slightly humiliating for the compere to do? Say running around a garden holding up signs whilst wearing a train driver’s uniform trying to corral a large number of three year olds in a straight line behind them? And ensure that any husband who might not have been of huge assistance with arranging party becomes the aforementioned compere? Just a suggestion.
In other tips:
1. If they’re under 3, don’t bother, just load ‘em up on cake and watch them run round the garden hopped up on chocolate and juice.
27
Sep
2010
What to expect when you’re expecting. Or rather – what to do when you’re expecting. Except that doesn’t sound nearly as catchy.
Which may well be why the authors of What to Expect are undoubtedly gazillionaires and I am writing a pink blog.
I have a couple of friends recently who have announced their first pregnancies. Naturally they have turned to someone as wise and insightful as me to advise
them as they take their first tentative steps into the world of bulging stomachs and weeing incessentaly. Or rather, one of them said ‘you must have a nerdy spreadsheet for this sort of thing.’ Au contraire my tubby little friend – I don’t have a single spreadsheet, I have several. And lots of posts. But I guess I have never summarised it all into a neat little package of a posty thing – so here it is, my guide to WHAT THE HELL DO I DO NOW? Apart from all the medical/hospitaly/birthy stuff of course…
- Panic. You are bringing a new person into the world. Much can go wrong and you’re probably already well on the way to f*cking up your kid’s life already. Nice one. Oh, ok, disregard that one – here’s the real list….
6
Sep
2010
Feel the fear (of rain) and do it anyway.
Children. Rain. Holidays. Could three words inspire more fear?
my alternative rain lifestyle
I love my children. Most of the time. Well, except when they are being really really really annoying. Or when it is raining and they are inside with me. ALL DAY. Despite the fact that it is September and supposedly not yet winter, we need to remember that this is England and there is a lot of rain. And cold. Even in summer. So they are inside with me. And when I say with me – I mean crawling over me, tugging my legs, putting their sticky little fingers all over my cream couches (I know, but it was before kids ok) and kicking their grubby little feet into my computer screen. I may well be going mental. Just mildly and quite quietly (depending on who you ask) but mental all the same.
31
Aug
2010
Herding cats. Or how to throw a kid’s party – part 2
So – part one was about the basics – planning the party. But every kid knows that planning the party is secondary. The venue can be ace, the games fun, the fire thrower awesome, but if you don’t get the main event right then all else may as well be thrown out with the pass the parcel.
Yes, I am of course referring to The Cake. Big, small, cupcake, multi-layered behemoth, store-bought, ice-cream, homemade – The Cake is the big kahuna of the party day. You have to have one.
If you’re Australian it is likely that you spent some time in your childhood pouring over the Cake Bible – second only to choosing your showbags from the newspaper lift-out (if you’re not from Australia, you just had to be there I’m sorry, but believe me, the day that lift-out came out was the BEST DAY OF THE YEAR) was the choosing of the cake from the Australian Women’s Weekly Kid’s Birthday Cakes Book. And if you don’t believe me, then see someone far more amusing than me…
Anyway – here are other top tips about cake preparation:
17
Aug
2010
Herding cats. Or how to throw a kid’s party – part 1
Not appropriate for a three year old. And frankly, a little bit disturbing at any age?
I have been planning my son’s 3rd birthday party basically since his 2nd birthday. I know – what a nerd. But that won’t be news to anyone who knows me – I do love a drink good shindig. And as I have the most amazing memories of parties thrown by my mum, I guess I’m just trying to make sure my children have the same sort of memories. Of course, emulating my mother’s parties is a slippery slope. It’s only a hop step and a jump from similar parties to bridge games four times a week and antique shopping. Before we know it I’ll be posting about ten ways to improve your family tree (sorry Mum – I really am dying to see the results of the three thousand years of research you’ve done.)
Where was I? Oh yes – parties. Seriously, how can you not like kid’s parties? The mess, the screams, the tears – there’s something for everyone. Personally, I’m in it for the cake and the champagne. And the fairy bread – which I have discovered today is an Australian thing. Who knew? And if you are unaware of the JOYS of fairy bread – see here. In the meantime, here are my top tips:
10
Aug
2010
World’s Worst Mother Award – or how to counter your smugness in a couple of easy steps
So you know when you are feeling really smug about something that things can take a turn for the worse?
This could well be me accepting the award
Like when you move out of your first house in London that you hate into one that you absolutely adore, and then regularly drive down your old street just to lean out the window and say ‘’aaaarrrrgggh, suffer’ to the old house? And then get a call from your landlady at awesome new house saying she wants awesome house back for herself and you have one month to vacate? And you end up living with your parents-in-law?
Or like when you feel really clever about getting up to date with all your personal admin and then realise you have forgotten to renew your visa meaning a last minute dash to Wales on the day it is due to expire, and costing an additional £830 for a priority in-person appointment? And 24 hours before said priority appointment, manage to lose your passport while organising papers for said visa? Meaning an emergency emergency appointment at Australian High Commission to replace said passport, only to discover (day before emergency trip to Wales) that some amazing soul has handed it in at the High Commission but in the process of preparing documents, photos plus emergency drive-as-fast-as-you-can taxi rides, adding another 100 quid to the cost of said visa process?
