Leftovers - a bit of idle wittering

This post was going to be called 'The Sunday Roast' but I got distracted by by a hangover ... caused by too much red wine on Saturday night.

It's just a little catch up ...

We had friends for dinner on Saturday night. Their dog is a quarter the size of our dog and spent the evening trying to hump her ... a total of 263 times. Our poor dog was exhausted from trying to avoid his advances, which were more aimed towards her head than anywhere else.

Husband decided to cook tapas which normally takes him hours if not 2 days. 3 hours before our guests arrived he decided to go on a bike ride with the dog. She runs alongside him, she does not sit side saddle. When he returned he decided it was a good idea to bath the dog and then dry her with the hairdryer.

Whilst tidying the house in preparation for our guests I discovered the 2 year old's party list (see Let Them Eat Cake). It mysteriously reappeared from under a pile of things on my desk. I now know EXACTLY how many children are attending the 2 year olds party. All I need to get is the cake. I don't think M&S do Batman cakes and anyone who suggests I could make one should bask in their cake making skills whilst I wallow in mine.

House tidy I decided to bath the children. By now we were up against the clock and to my horror I found what looked like yeti shavings in the bath. Moments before our guests arrived I was gathering enough hair to make a wig for Terry Wogan. Despite the smell of wet dog the evening went well and I was last seen at 1am playing on the Wii, of course.

Husband's Party ... is on the same day as the 2 year olds in 2 weeks time. Am I a glutton for punishment or just plain foolish? Yes and yes. The DJ is now unable to attend and the venue smelt 'musty' when we inspected it last week. I have persuaded the husband that taking the Wii to the party would not be 'good fun' for anyone other than him.

What does he want for his birthday? Well ... either a very expensive set of knives or one of these. I told you before, cooking is his third love. First and second? Guitar Hero and football.

Speaking of Guitar Hero, he recently renamed his band. It was Jumbo Ballsack, it is now Stinking Buttcrack. I for one can't wait for 4 year old to tell her teacher that snippet of information.

I have tennis elbow, repeptitive strain of my right arm due to excessive Wii tennis. Husband and I have been playing nightly tournaments. It's getting serious. He spends most of the time working out how to make the ball spin really fast and failing.

Last night he flung himself into the curtains and hurt his back convinced that if he moved his entire body right then he would get the perfect shot. On Friday I almost destroyed an overhead glass light fitting with my serving force. It is now held together with hair clips.

Cinderella Spilt the Pheasant Stew

This will probably be my last blog of 2008, so I’ve decided to do an update on a few things before slipping quietly into 2009 …

I’ve neglected my blog this past week. I’d like to say I’ve had ‘Bloggers Block’. In part I have but we also got a Nintendo Wii for Christmas which has been slightly distracting. We’ve had a ball, quite literally. We bowl together on wii sports … usually betwixt the hours of 6 and 7am. The 4 year old is the family Kingpin. I on the other hand have all the grace of an elephant and have nearly taken out a glass overhead light fitting on more than one occasion with my over exuberant bowling style.

The 2 Year Old still has the original batman t-shirt and now a long sleeved version which he refuses to wear, a Batman figure, the notorious cape (which he has worn for approximately 40 seconds) and some wrist cuffs which were the cheapest but most successful of his Christmas gifts.

Another spate of undetected ear infections are over so his hearing is up again and his speech is coming along. He has had five ear infections this year alone – they last between 2-3 weeks. There are no outward signs until his ear pops and gunk comes out. We visit the Dr – they say ‘Oh yes, I see, but he’s fine now, goodbye’ – I say ‘Oh yes, he’s fine now, but this is the 5th time this year. That’s around 15 weeks of living in a bubble. His speech is affected! Do something about it’. Reluctantly they have referred him – we only have to wait another 4 months till we go to the hospital to speak to an ‘ear professional’ (who I’ll probably have to cry and blow snot bubbles at) and then another few months until something will be done. With my calculations that’s another 3-4 ear infections and many weeks of deafness. Oh well – at least he can say cracker coherently now.

He is doing really well with his OAP childminders – after all my stressing. He is always happy to go to them – and equally happy to return to the bosom of his mother. In his first week I had to explain the 2 year olds ear problems to them so they didn’t think he was rude and ignoring them. They in turn told me a long, drawn out story (5 minutes before I was due at work) about their son. He suffered from a similar problem during childhood and to summarise ‘had his ears off twice, but it is fine because, although he needs a hearing aid and is dyslexic he is also a Dr’. To add insult to injury ‘his feet are so big that he couldn’t buy a Citroen car’. Although reassuring to hear about his triumphs I had to rush off, I then spent my day at work haunted by the vision of my boy having his ears removed TWICE.

The 4 year old is still bossy and has decided she will call her first born ‘Jesus’. She got a Cinderella dress for Christmas and has worn it for approximately 36 hours out of 48. The only reason she hasn’t worn it for longer is because she spilt pheasant stew down it and I had a three day laundry strike during the festive season.

She’s had a terrible hacking cough over Christmas and I am sick of saying ‘cover your mouth when you cough’ every 45 seconds. After 3 sleepless nights I relented and gave her some ‘night time’ cough medicine. I say relented because as you know the 4 year old has a bad reaction to sugar and additives. Cough medicine is full of colourings and sugar. We were desperate and it promised us that she would sleep soundly. No such luck – the man visited and she thrashed about all night whilst shouting and screaming random sentences.

The Husband got Guitar Hero : World Tour for the Wii, so spends his evenings strumming to an imaginary stadium of thousands in his band ‘Jumbo Ballsack’. I have learnt not to speak whilst he is ‘performing’; it makes for an easier life. We are planning his birthday party for January and he is seemingly unworried by hitting the big 40. His only concern is that overnight his pubic hair will go grey.

Me – I got the BIGGEST hamper of Green & Black’s chocolate for Christmas. My body is currently 70% cocoa solids. I’ve had an eye infection, usually I wear contacts but I had to forgo them for antibacterial eye drops and my ‘Evil Edna’ glasses. My eye was so sensitive that on Christmas Eve I had to watch TV with one of the 2 year olds socks wrapped round the right lens. I would have been much better off with an eye patch.

On Boxing Day morning I was sat with my sister on the kitchen floor watching the kids racing mini santa’s on sleighs. The children were arguing about which Santa they wanted (there was a choice of 12). My sister watching them said “I remember thinking it would be great to have my children close together” (she has the same age gap between her kids as I do – my niece and nephew are now 12 and 14) she pointed at the 2 and 4 year old who were grappling with a shiny green sleigh and hitting each other “but often I wondered if I’d done the right thing – this is one of the worst ages”.

I on the other hand think there is probably far worse to come and I look forward to sharing it with you all!

Happy New Year!

A Damp & Slightly Smelly Masked Crusader

Batman has loomed large in our lives for six months, maybe longer. Batman is a t-shirt, a greying, once black t-shirt, with the word Batman and picture of Batman himself.

The 2 year old is infatuated with the t-shirt. He is so obsessed, that at any given time he can tell you at what stage in the laundry process it is at; washing basket, washing machine, tumble drier or ironing pile. He is only truly at peace when the t-shirt is touching his skin; no other item of clothing comes close. My son has his foibles; Batman is one of them along with wearing socks in bed and using a giant spoon to eat yoghurt.

We had a Batman related accident this evening. Everything was rosy in the house of Laura. The snow was falling, the house was roasty toasty and the children were playing nicely (No, really!) whilst I made tea … until the 2 year old visited the toilet that is. My newly toilet trained boy must have forgotten to aim because tonight he peed on Batman. He came out of the downstairs bathroom upset and half naked (he always strips from the waist down when he goes to the toilet). I tried to wrestle the wet t-shirt off him which turned into a violent struggle with me tugging the t-shirt and him fighting to keep it on. I won; he collapsed in a fully naked heap on the carpet near our front door, as fat snowflakes fell on the other side of the glass. I foolishly offered an alternative garment which was instantly dismissed (with shouting and probably the odd snot bubble or two). I left him to it. He continued to blubber until hunger got the better of him and he joined us at the table – now naked from the waist up. The chill had evidently reached his nether regions and he had sensibly put his underpants and trousers back on. Whilst he ate he looked at me sideways with disparagement as if it were me who had urinated on Batman.

On a shopping trip a few months ago I saw a Batman jumper – which would be much more appropriate for this time of year. I was torn between buying one for every day of the week and not buying one at all. I decided that I must stop feeding his habit and chose the latter option.

However … I had a weak moment at a recent church led toddler group. A woman was selling Batman capes. Not just any old common or garden Batman capes …. Feel good; give yourself a pat on the back ‘Fairtrade’ Batman capes made in Africa. All thoughts of not encouraging the ‘Batman habit’ were gone as I buckled under the pressure and purchased one. It is a thing of splendour, all the more so because it was handmade by someone in the developing world (pat pat). It is now laying in wait in my Christmas present hidey hole, ready to KERBOOM and POW its way through the festivities.

When he starts school I will be the mother trying to coax her child out of the fancy dress outfit and into his school uniform in the cloakroom … telling him that “Batman never wore his cape to school” and then whispering slyly “If you shut up and stop yelling you can have a Batmobile for Christmas”.