4
Aug
2011
Craft is the only way you will truly feel like a real mother.
It’s finally happened. Today I did craft. I am sorry it has been so long since I have written a post. I am even sorrier that it has taken craft to get me to put pen to paper. Or finger to keyboard. But such is my life right at present that craft has actually done it.
Let me not offend those crafty types amongst us. I have the utmost admiration for crafty people, with their scrapbooks and fabric and natty little sewing machines, whipping up natty little crafty things. But craft is not for me. I don’t have a natty little bone in my body. My handwriting is so bad that I got extra time in my final school exams to rewrite my essays. And if my handwriting is so bad, you can only imagine what my drawing is like. It’s a combination of very little patience, even less of an artistic eye and a solid belief (grounded in reality) that anything I attempt will generally end in a bloody finger, lots of swear words and something that frankly, looks like crap that my three year old could have made. And this is from a child that thinks drawing a black dot on a piece of paper and sticky taping it to his chest means he is wearing a superhero badge.
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?
1
Nov
2009
Things I forgot about having a newborn – part 1
They are very very small. I haven’t run into one parent yet who doesn’t exclaim ‘Oh, I forgot how small they are!’ I understand when you’ve got older children but someone who had a three month old baby said it to me the other day. She’s forgotten already? Maybe it’s a hormonal thing… - They don’t do much. Dare I venture that they are a weeny bit dull? I might get struck down by the motherhood gods for saying that, but honestly – they sleep, they eat, they make funny faces. The sum total of their skills is the occasional coo and a grimace that might, just might, be a smile if one was squinting in the right light.
- They poo. A lot. But it doesn’t smell that bad. Someone told me once it was like popcorn - would we say popcorn?? I wouldn’t go that far but it’s not that bad.
- When they do smile it’s pretty amazing.
- They have acne, bags under their eyes and goopy stuff up their nose. It is very hard to resist from squeezing acne and picking their noses. Possibly that is just me.
