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Showing posts from March, 2010

I have actually finished a bag of salad!

Last night I felt virtuous. Dinner comprised warmed sweet potato falafel, couscous and salad, and I actually finished the bag of salad. Usually I buy a bag from Waitrose, with as many dark leaves as possible, possibly with betroot, and then after a couple of sarnies, the remainder of the bag festers in back of my fridge, only to be thrown away on the next bin day... all green and brown slimy slug-like. But no, this bag produced two main meal salads for myself and OH, along with two lunches of pastrami, picallily and salad bagels, which I took to an indoor play area for myself and Broccoli Boy's mummy, as it was my turn to provide lunch last Monday. I really enjoy reading Diary of a Frugal Family  and I do share a love for a bargain (I get this from my Mum, the Professional Shopper - and Returner). My Mum and I like to play these games: What is the cheapest meal you can make ? I won once with "Curried leftover Sunday roast vegetables". An ex-boyfriend lived on two

'I'll never be a Proper Mum' - competitive crapness

I have just read the crappest article ever. And it was in the Guardian, which I usually buy on Saturdays (mainly for The Guide I have to admit). barenakedmummy  wrote (on the same blog template as me, spooky to read) that she isn't an alpha mummy and doesn't care, in response to the Guardian article 'I'll never be a Proper Mum' . Barenakedmummy's article was funny and I identified with it. But the Guardian article? Now I don't mean to diss the writer, in fairness it was well written and it did keep me entertained, but I don't for a minute believe it is true. The article precised into a couple of lines - and I'm paraphrasing here: I am not a proper mummy, you know those mummies who turn up to nursery/school in their Cath Kidston wellies with organic lunch boxes, I hate playdates cos I hate the other "proper" mums, when I see a proper mum I feel 13 again and inadequate. Where did all this competitive "I'm crap"ness come fro

My perfect Fun Day Friday

It hit me today, Elf goes to school in six months time. SIX months. SIX? I keep thinking it's at least nine months away, but of course it's creeping up. Like David Bowie sang - turn and face the change. Changes ... Bye bye group of pals at nursery as only he is going to his school Elf's "working week" will be longer - not just Tuesday to Thursday My working week will be longer too - I'll have just Fridays off instead of Mondays and Fridays now Our perfect Fun Day Fridays will change and this is the hardest thing to get my head around. Elf's best friend is Woody, and ever since our evening NCT meetings when heavily pregnant, his mum F and I have been joined at the baby hip carrier. Preschool has since restricted our playdates together but Fridays are still our Fun Days. Our club du jour is trampo lining on Friday mornings (and I am about to feel even more of a mum as Elf got Badge Two this week to sew on!). An hour of bouncing, tucking and star jumpi

The curse of the Novelty Parent going out

Daddy is Novelty Parent. With Mummy, moan whinge whine. Door goes, in walks Daddy and the mood lifts immediately. (Elf's not mine!) My OH usually works late-ish 7.30pm I consider to be reasonable so he can do bath'n'bed (I hate bathtime, something to do with my straightened hair being splashed and going curly I think). I won't do a Poor Me here, I have friends whose OHs are out all night (working I might add!) and others whose OHs finish at 4pm to cook the family dinner, but then work bank holidays. I'm probably middle-of-the-road Poor Me. (And don't let's revisit the arguments that start "So how come you can finish early to go out with your mates, but you can't finish early for a family dinner?".) OH's work (and stress level) is building up and home times this week have been around 9pm. I have also had a case of mummyflu this week (that's where you are ill but you still have to get up to take your child to nursery so you may as w

My first photo meme - a deconstructionist at lunch

Thanks to  London City Mum who tagged me for my first meme ever. I am a bit nervous doing it, is there a rule that you don't do memes on a Wednesday as it's a wordless day or something? Anyway I'll just muddle along... The instructions: 1. Open the first (oldest) photo folder in your computer library 2. Scroll to the 10th photo 3. Post the photo and the story behind it 4. Tag 5 or more people to continue the thread. Here is my little(r) Elf aged two and a bit, two years ago. He is having his lunch in our dining room. Do I spy an Easter card behind him? I must firstly admit that this isn't the tenth photo, but the 11th. The correct one was unsuitable for this posting; my friend Hannah (a still superfit ex fire fighter) was breastfeeding her second daughter whilst we were having lunch in a cafe. I'm sure she wouldn't mind the photo showing her feeding, but in it she's got a tiny (and I mean TINY) bit of tummy hanging over her jeans! She'd be m

I feel like a real mum now because I sewed my first badge

Last week, I felt like a real mum. OK so I've got a 4 year old boy, of course I'm a mum. But sometimes I catch sight of myself in a shop window holding his hand, and I think How did I get here? Now I sound like a Talking Heads song, but you get the drift. Do any of you feel like that ever? The first time Elf called me Mummy was a defining moment in my new mummy status. When I went back to work after my year's maternity leave, I was seen differently by new and old colleagues, as I was now a mum. But last week, my mum-o-meter hit new heights - I have finally made it. And why? I sewed Elf's first badge on his hoodie! No it wasn't his first ASBO; I dealt two of those out at the tender age of two, and there was no corresponding badge. Elf achieved Badge 1 for Trampolining. Woody and Jessie achieved theirs too. I sewed it on a bit wonky and half way through, I asked my Other Half if the badge was in fact and iron on one! It wasn't. The proof was in the pudding

The great fish tank in the sky

Recently in my mummy group, all the kids have been asking about death. I have to admit that with my Elf, it's more a case of Mum, why does Darth Vader die? than What happened to your nana and grandad? I heard two funny stories this week from my group and just had to blog them for your amusement. The great fish tank in the sky Elf's best friend, Woody, had a fish tank for Christmas. Woody's mum said he hadn't noticed that three fish had already died in the last few weeks, but when the fourth one had the misfortune to go belly-up, she thought she'd approach the subject with Woody. In the meantime, Woody's dad had, he thought discretely, flushed it down the loo. She tried to console him by explaining that his fishie had been poorly. Woody was in floods of tears at this point, being a sensitive soul. Wondering why she'd gone down the route of trying to explain death to Woody, his mum said  yes his little fishie did die, but he  was going to the Great Fish

How can the BBC have got it so wrong with 6music?

The BBC announced today that its digital radio station 6music will be axed some time next year. This news was leaked last week, and I have to admit I felt sick when I heard it. I don't want this post to be a rant about how political the BBC have become, or how they are pandering to commercial pressure... But I feel the need to explain my sick feeling. I discovered 6music when I was on maternity leave in 2006. Then 35, I was too old (thank God) for Radio 1, but daytime Radio 2 wasn't quite my scene (although I am a TOG). 6music, in particular the then daytime DJ from 10 til 1pm, Gideon Coe, stole my musical heart. He had every track in my fantasy back catalogue. I felt the DJs were speaking to me; to use that awful word, I connected with them.