Archive | February, 2011


21 Feb

On Friday morning I had a “conversation” with my Mother. I say “conversation” because talking to her these days involves running around the house after a small boy who has kidnapped the phone, and shouting. All calls must be on loudspeaker. There are no deep and meaningful conversations. I don’t even get the gossip. The Turtle is too busy telling her his news and putting her “to bed” behind the couch cushions.

So our conversation went like this:

Mam: “I was talking to Martin (Da) ….” fades out

Me: “To who? What? Turtle? Where’s the phone?” (It was in his little car).

Mam: “Hello? Hello?”

Me: “You were talking to who? What? … Hold on a second Turtle”

Mam: “To your Father. And I told him I was going on Tuesday.”

Me: “Going on Tuesday? …Hey, come back with the phone!”

Turtle: “I NEED to talk to Granny. Granny?

Mam: “What Loveen?”

Me: “Going where?”

Turtle: “Granny? Granny?”

Mam: “Over to see ye.”

Me: “Who?”

Mam: “Me childeen. He said grand.”

Me: “Who? Da?”

Mam: “Yea. I didn’t book it yet.”

Me: This Tuesday?”

Mam: “Yeah.”

Me: “Oh right.”

Mam: “It’s only E600”

Me: “Oh right.” (Thinking “What will the Hubby say???”)

Turtle: “I NEED to talk with my Granny!”

Mam: “Will I book it?”

Me: (shellshocked) “Grand”


So Mam is coming to visit on Tuesday. For 3 weeks. The Hubby doesn’t mind, thank goodness. He is slowly coming around to our last minute ways, but I doubt he’ll ever adopt them. The Turtle doesn’t know she’s coming. It’ll be a surprise!!



14 Feb

God, but today has been a day of failures. The stars just don’t seem to be aligning correctly. And it’s only 12:30. If I had curtains I would draw them and pretend it was night already (note to self: make curtains, but not today!)

I spent yesterday afternoon making Valentine’s cards with the Turtle for all of his little friends. “With” being a rather vague concept. Small boys who don’t nap in the afternoon don’t like painting. They like running around the place like mad lunatics.

Then last night I prepped Dal soup for our play date and threw it in the crock pot.  The picture of domestic goddess-ness, me!

This morning, the soup looked like slop but tasted ok.

We got dressed and ready to go to our play date. A 45 minute operation.

We left the house and everything. Got 1/4  of a mile down the road. And it started raining. Well, sprinkling, really. So we turned back. The thought of cycling 3 miles there, standing around in the “cold” and perhaps getting trapped by a downpour was just too much. Not to mention the ride home again!

Cue wailing and general put-outedness from a small boy at the injustice of it all.

My wailing all happened on the inside.

Then came the plan to go to the movies. A mere 20 minutes to get ready this time. And even though it is still threatening rain, the theatre is only a mile away, so not too bad. Got there, on time and everything. And he’s asleep. Completely conked. How is it even possible to fall asleep in a bike trailer on a fairly bumpy road, wearing a helmet and looking completely uncomfortable?

Home again. He’s still asleep.

Should we bother trying to get out of the house again to get the Hubby a card?

Or will there be a thunderstorm?

If the sushi place is closed, there’ll be more tears.


Most definitely.

Sewing lessons

9 Feb


Broke out my poor neglected sewing machine this week. Baby shoes and a bib beckoned. Sadly, the will to make them properly was, well, missing. Lessons learned:

  • cut things out carefully. Try to cut so that things end up roughly the same size.
  • change the thread to match the fabric. Light yellow thread and dark green fabric? A big mess.
  • read instructions carefully. Otherwise you end up with your batting on the outside. And have to unpick the entire thing. Swearing the entire time.
  • when your ‘hook and loop tape’ says “unsuitable for fabric”, believe it. Don’t stick it on and attempt to sew through it.
  • when you do try to sew through 2 layers of ‘hook and loop tape’, 2 layers of fabric and a layer of batting, the needle will get stuck and glue will get all over the needle and you will end up with reams of thread and a sticky needle. A mess that you abandoned 2 days ago and haven’t cracked the door on since.
  • you don’t need two fasteners on a reversible bib. Which means the sticky needle was for nothing. Nothing!

Still though, cuteness! No?


2 Feb

A small boy sits at the table eating a lunch of spaghetti. He asks for more. His mother brings the saucepan to the table. The small boy begins eating out of the pot with one hand, while the other holds strands of spaghetti in his hair. He begins to sing “His hair was made of spaghetti, spaghetti, spaghetti, spaghetti . . . and his name was Aiken Drum”. His mother laughs.


Small boy: “I want to play with play dough.”

Mother: “Sorry, no. You keep eating it.”

Small boy: “I want to play with play dough.”

Mother: “Are you going to eat it?”

Small boy: “Yes.”

Mother: “No play dough if you’re going to be eating it”

Small boy: “I want it.”

Mother: “Are you going to eat it?”

Small boy: “Yes.”

Mother: “Do we eat play dough?”

Small boy: “No.”

Mother: “Ok, here you go.”

Small boy eats play dough.

Mother despairs.


Making cookies in the kitchen. Small boy standing on a chair. No pants. Face cloth, for some inexplicable reason, on his head. He “helps” by dancing and taking random items off of the dish rack.


A mother hears “I love you”.

“Aww” she thinks, “how sweet” and says “I love you too, sweetheart.”

Then she hears “I love you very much Spiderman” and looks around and sees that her small boy has been talking to Spiderman the entire time.

Not me, you understand. My son loves me more than anything! More than blooming Spiderman.

Ungrateful little so and so.

Exercise! Exercise!

1 Feb

I am now a proud graduate of the couch to 5k program. Whoop! The plan is to continue running 3 miles every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Because, hold on to your hats and try not to faint, I like it. I do. I even ran someplace the other day. That’s right, running as a mode of transport. Who am I??

I have also started “Shredding“. I think the word is masochism. I couldn’t walk for the first three days. But I kept “shredding” like a mad yoke. And running.

I might be on the road to madness. But I would like to say to the person who said (negatively) “Your legs will get very muscular”, thank you for your concern. I suspect that muscular legs at some point in the future might be the least of my worries. Right now I am worried about being able to keep up with a two year old. I am worried that my BMI is in the obese range even though I have lost a fairly significant amount of weight.

I am not worried about muscular legs.

If I were vain enough to worry about such things I would worry about muffin tops. And bingo wings. And stretch marks. All sorts of other things really. Muscular legs are waaaaay down the list. If they are even on it. Who looks at legs and goes “Hmm, they might be a bit muscular.” Honestly.

Off she goes, “muscular” legs a go-go, belly hopping and arms flopping. Na na na na na!

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