Hit a bit of a rough patch, struggling with the nightime sleeping and therefore feeling far too exhausted during the day, having strange day-mares where the neighbours kill my little family, not very pleasant at all. I told Jam and he was very understanding and as men usually do, he tried to fix it, but I wasn't needing fixing, just understanding and support and ended up getting very upset and he left to go to work on a bit of a downer.
Mini meltdown inevitable my father-in-law called and I was trying to keep it together when towards the end of the conversation my voice started wobbling and he asked if I was ok, and I blubbed, 'no-o-o-o-o, I'm exhausted and have just been horrible to Jam and I know he's only trying to help and... and... and I've dyed the nappies pink' cue an outburst of laughter that got me going as well. It's funny because now he's sleeping ... and I haven't had to go running upstairs every half hour... and I've managed to dye the nappies back to white... and have a bath... and eat another chocolate egg...
Tuesday, 26 April 2011
Thursday, 7 April 2011
Egg-static
When I eat chocolate, or cheese, my cheeks perspire and I sneeze. Strange, but true. So why am I sitting here scoffing an easter egg? I noticed that it had broken earlier, so thought I'd better put it out of its misery. It's no longer broken. It's happy. And so am I. I can hack a spot of cheek perspiration and a sneeze is always short lived.
My sister is to blame entirely. She bought the eggs and placed them on the mantelpiece, reminding us about how as kids, we'd have tons of eggs each year, always placed on the mantelpiece, and I would make mine last forever whilst she would scoff hers really quickly. So the tables have turned, and I might have to sneak the other two in, before she comes back tomorrow...
Oh, an oeuf is an oeuf, I'm not much of a yolker, but before I crack up I must go and get some eggstra sleep, my brain is scrambled!
My sister is to blame entirely. She bought the eggs and placed them on the mantelpiece, reminding us about how as kids, we'd have tons of eggs each year, always placed on the mantelpiece, and I would make mine last forever whilst she would scoff hers really quickly. So the tables have turned, and I might have to sneak the other two in, before she comes back tomorrow...
Oh, an oeuf is an oeuf, I'm not much of a yolker, but before I crack up I must go and get some eggstra sleep, my brain is scrambled!
Saturday, 2 April 2011
Just popping out to get lost!
Yes, I've been lost for over two weeks now, somewhere in the garden I believe, away with the fairies... No really I've been spending all my time with my sister Oli who's visiting from Sydney and this is the first time she's met her nephew and our new home, so lots to catch up on. Oli's away in London now for a few days so we are left to fend for ourselves again...
Me, shouting out of the bedroom window to Jam at the bottom of the garden (in the workshop, not with the fairies...) - 'Honey, how are you getting on?'
'Fine, nearly done, shall we go for a drive to catch the sunset?'
'Great idea, meet you in the car in five.'
Off we trundled, in Red, our trusty little car, given to us by a friend now down under, (in Australia, not in the ground, that would be a bit morbid, although it was probably only me that thought of that?) Red is really on its last legs, every corner sounds like someone is being murdered and going over bumps causes all manner of untold grievances. So a trip to see the sunset was something I imagined to be a short ride, a few ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ and back home again in time for supper. Oh no. Not with Jam at the wheel with a schoolboy's lust for adventure in tow.
Rattling around the lanes, up and down the hills of the Quantocks we hit a diversion that takes us through a little village that looks familiar, although by now they all look quite similar and so it is easy to be confused. It's also dark, the sun having set behind clouds a lot earlier and I'm hungry and thirsty as I realise we have been out for a little longer than the presumed five minutes.
Jam seems to be getting a little irate as the road stretches on and on, no signposts are to be seen and someone is right up our behind, bright lights to boot that do not help induce sleep in the babe. Suddenly we swerve and pull over to a bumpy dirt tractor track, I'm slightly bewildered (my sneaky snooze in the back disturbed!) and then almost frightened as I realise the bright lights are still on behind us and the car that had been following is right behind us still. Jam goes to get out, 'NO!' I scream hysterically, 'don't leave us in the car alone, he could be an axe-murderer or something!'
'Give me the map then, let's see if we can see where we are, my instinct tells me that way is to Taunton...'
The chap from the other car is now by the window leaning in, asking if we were also following the diversion back there. He's dressed in his supermarket deputy manager's uniform and seems quite annoyed that he's lost. The relief! Not that he's lost too, but that he's not an axe-murderer or worse ...
Me, shouting out of the bedroom window to Jam at the bottom of the garden (in the workshop, not with the fairies...) - 'Honey, how are you getting on?'
'Fine, nearly done, shall we go for a drive to catch the sunset?'
'Great idea, meet you in the car in five.'
Off we trundled, in Red, our trusty little car, given to us by a friend now down under, (in Australia, not in the ground, that would be a bit morbid, although it was probably only me that thought of that?) Red is really on its last legs, every corner sounds like someone is being murdered and going over bumps causes all manner of untold grievances. So a trip to see the sunset was something I imagined to be a short ride, a few ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ and back home again in time for supper. Oh no. Not with Jam at the wheel with a schoolboy's lust for adventure in tow.
Rattling around the lanes, up and down the hills of the Quantocks we hit a diversion that takes us through a little village that looks familiar, although by now they all look quite similar and so it is easy to be confused. It's also dark, the sun having set behind clouds a lot earlier and I'm hungry and thirsty as I realise we have been out for a little longer than the presumed five minutes.
Jam seems to be getting a little irate as the road stretches on and on, no signposts are to be seen and someone is right up our behind, bright lights to boot that do not help induce sleep in the babe. Suddenly we swerve and pull over to a bumpy dirt tractor track, I'm slightly bewildered (my sneaky snooze in the back disturbed!) and then almost frightened as I realise the bright lights are still on behind us and the car that had been following is right behind us still. Jam goes to get out, 'NO!' I scream hysterically, 'don't leave us in the car alone, he could be an axe-murderer or something!'
'Give me the map then, let's see if we can see where we are, my instinct tells me that way is to Taunton...'
The chap from the other car is now by the window leaning in, asking if we were also following the diversion back there. He's dressed in his supermarket deputy manager's uniform and seems quite annoyed that he's lost. The relief! Not that he's lost too, but that he's not an axe-murderer or worse ...
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