Thursday, 31 July 2008

The Bad Parenting Chronicles: Episode 7

Yesterday I managed to leave a very important member of our family at the play gym. I don't know what I was thinking. It was not my best day.

My day started off innocently enough by going to my friend Lisa's house to give her a super quick blogging tutorial while our 4 kids mostly fought, wrestled and cried. Lisa suggested we go to the play gym to let the kids burn off some energy and how could I decline? This was after all our last opportunity to hang out properly before she forsakes us all and moves to Utah this weekend. So I agreed and off we went.

I should have known from all the crying, fighting and wrestling that we had already encountered that Eli wasn't at his sociable best. Within minutes of arriving he had decided to plough a big plastic car into a one year old (which he repeated again later). He also added pinching and hair pulling to his arsenal of attack. So after several apologies to several reasonable parents (thank goodness) I was beginning to imagine a life where it would be far better to stay indoors with my Grino child (Half Gorilla, half Rhino in case you were wondering) and not have to endure the endless humiliation of having to say, "I'm so sorry that he /pulled the hair of/pinched/ran over/ your child". It just doesn't make for a relaxing day out you know. But after several trips to the naughty spot (which is always a blast to do in a public place, it is a real crowd puller) and some lunch he was back to being normal happy Eli. The Eli he is 95% of the time. Now, that Eli is just wonderful. Personally I blame the Siswick temper for the other 5%.

After that we played happily and nicely and we eventually all headed home. Well what I thought was all of us. Now for those that either know Eli or have read my blog for a while you'll know about Eli and his Gee-Gee's. (You really need to click that link for the whole story) It is true, complete, perfect love.

If Eli ever wakes at night generally it is because he wants his dummy 'doe-doe' or his Penguin 'Gee-Gee'. We have several of these penguin pals. Can you tell them apart? I know you're thinking well yeah the one third from the left is a different colour entirely. But could you tell them apart in the dark? Even the grey ones?

Eli can. A few nights ago he woke up crying I went to comfort him. He asked for 'doe-doe', I obliged. He laid down. He requested 'Gee-Gee' I couldn't see which was which (he favours the one second left) and gave him one (he sleeps with like 9 of them) he instantly shouted NO in total disgust and threw the Penguin promptly out of bed. That process was repeated several times until I searched in the dark on my hands and knees for the supremo Gee-Gee before he would settle and finally go back to sleep.

When ever he is tired, upset or sad it is not us that comforts him. It is Gee-Gee. Gee-Gee is there when he wakes up in the morning and he is there when he goes to sleep. They are inseparable.

Well until I left him at the play gym that is.

While I went to work Rob had the unfortunate experience of realising that Gee-Gee was MIA at bedtime. Gee-Gee wasn't any of the places he usually would be. Eli was not happy. He went to bed for the first time ever without his beloved penguin pal. He was not smiling about it but he did it. I can only hope all his other penguins were some comfort to him in his time of need.

When I got home Rob told me about the catastrophe. I felt sick to the pit of my stomach all night. I knew Eli would wake in the night and he'd ask for Gee-Gee and I knew from my experience several nights before that he wouldn't be fooled into accepting another less special Gee-Gee in Supremo Gee-Gee's place.

He did wake up. He did request Gee-Gee and lucky for me on this occasion he didn't register that it wasn't his extra special friend and slumbered on.

But this morning at opening time I was at the play gym the second it opened and I have never seen joy such as I saw when the Grino and Gee-Gee were reunited.

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Tuesday, 29 July 2008


I got tagged to do this again by Kelli at Writing the waves of Motherhood this is a slightly different variation of the tag I had previously completed so I figured I'd just merge the two of them together. I am resourceful like that, or just plain lazy. I'll let you decide.

So my favourite native of Utah, Alisha, tagged me, considering she was forced to live with me 24/7 for two months 11 years ago (as LDS Missionary companions) and put up with oh SO much I guess it's only good and polite to fulfill her request especially considering I spent the majority of our time together saying 'Amen' half way through her prayers. (Hey, I was tired and her prayers were long!)

Here goes,

4 Places I go over and over
1. To work
2. To the park. I'm not complaining, it's summer. I LOVE Summer.
3. To church
4. To Tesco (I love the supermarket, what's not to like? That's where all the food comes from and they never run out of chocolate unlike my fridge.)

4 People who email me the most (email? So 90's! I do all my corresponding via Facebook thank you very much.)
1. Slightly insane lady from church
2. Ironic considering above comment but Facebook telling me I have a message to read
3. Amazon (I love online shopping, or any shopping)
4. Some random Spanish company offering me both Viagra and Penis enlargement. (I'm assuming that combination of words will increase undesired traffic to my blog no end!)

4 of my favourite foods
1. Anything with chocolate
2. Anything with sour cream
3. Anything with butter
4. Anything with meat

4 Places I'd rather be
1. Some place hot
2. Some place quiet
3. Some place alone
4. In bed

4 movies I can watch over and over
1. It's a wonderful life
2. Any of the Oceans films, 11,12 or 13, heck I don't even need the sound on to enjoy those!
3. Anchorman, totally courtesy of Rob, I hated it on first viewing but having watched it 2539 times it has grown on me.
4. Pretty Woman

4 Places I have worked
1. Burger King (I know, you're envious!!)
2. When saving for my mission and living at home I worked in a textiles factory (for 3 months)putting PJ's on hangers before they go to stores. Seriously. That really is a job.
3. At a bakers, where I got 50% discount and put it to really good use. I am pretty sure that my arteries are well clogged up with pastry and cream courtesy of that discount.
4. In a hospital

4 Places I have lived
1. London, England
2. Mansfield, England (That is where Robin Hood hails from you know.)
3. Huddersfield, England
4. Coventry, England

4 TV Shows I love
1. Friends, we have every single episode.
2. Lost, have you seen Sawyer?
3. Brothers & Sisters
4. Scrubs

4 Places I have Vacationed/Holidayed
1. Florida
2. Spain
3. Holland
4. I guess Wales considering we were just there.

4 of my favourite dishes
1. Lasagne (yes that's how we spell it in England)
2. Anything Mexican
3. Rice Pudding
4. Brownies

4 sites I visit daily
1. Facebook
2.Yahoo Mail
3. Blogger.....obviously!
4. Online banking. In the vain hope someone will accidentally deposit a few million in my account and not notice.

4 People I Tag
1. Dana @ Supernanny Where are you?
2. Shannon @ Simply Shannon
3. Rach @ Mommy learns to blog
4. Melissa @ Wollman's blogspot

Monday, 28 July 2008

Guitar Heroics

Brand new evidence that Xbox adoration is genetic.
Which they certainly didn't inherit from me!

Friday, 25 July 2008

Encounters of the Welsh Kind

Once upon a time there was a Grandad and a Grandma,
5 (of their 8 Children) and their spouses,
13 of their Grandchildren and 1 Spouse (that would be me)
and 2 of their Great Grandchildren
and they all went to Llanwrst (pronounced Lan-roost) in North Wales for a week and stayed in farmhouses like these,
In the middle of nowhere, with just sheep and cows for neighbours.

And the sun shone gloriously all week long.

So now in my mind Wales has finally redeemed itself, despite the simply crazy welsh language. In almost every language I have encountered (which isn't all that many if I am completely honest but enough to make this valid point) the word Taxi translates as Taxi, not so in Welsh though.

Oh no
, they have to be different.

In Welsh it's Tacsi (isn't this an educational post already?) The word for school? Translates as Ysgol. I kid you not. The Welsh language defies all logic and reason.

But still despite my endless issue with the Welsh language I am now fully embracing my heritage and am happy to admit that I am in fact 1/4 Welsh. A fact that until recently I wasn't so happy to share.

We enjoyed ice cream........

and beach strolls.......

and tea cup rides......

and trips to the Zoo.
(Doesn't that goat just look like he's thinking 'Oh kid, puh-leaze don't touch me!')

I learned that boys could throw rocks into the sea for hours on end if given the opportunity without ever getting the teensiest bit bored! That includes fully grown up adult boys too.
Thomas adored the dingy at the beach and we all had to stifle a laugh when Grandad climbed in to join him and promptly fell straight back out.
The scenery was as beautiful as my boys!

Eli learned that throwing sand ceases to be hilarious when you end up with a spadeful in your wide open from laughing hysterically mouth.
The bravest in our bunch gave white water rafting a try,
and loved it!

And we all lived happily ever after because the kids were so exhausted from all their fun and sunshine that they could hardly keep their eyes open!


Oh and if you're wondering where all the pictures of me are, there are none. (Note to Rob:Start taking pictures so that if I were to die unexpectedly by being suffocated by a never ending mountain sized pile of our laundry or some other similar fate our children would have some recollection of what I look liked beyond our wedding pictures).

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Thursday, 24 July 2008

Deeply Sanitised/Sanitized (A bilingual post)

My very last recycled post. I will be back blogging current events this weekend!

I know cleanliness is next to Godliness but I can't help thinking we're all going a bit OTT.

When I was a child I had a weekly Sunday evening bath in preparation for the new week of school. It was sufficient. We were posh though, we each had our very own bath water. I recall going to sleepover at a friends house and being told we needed to go get in the bath that had been vacated firstly by my friends father and then her older brother. Even to this day I am suspicious that third hand bath water probably has very few cleansing properties. I actually think I needed a bath when I got home to cleanse me of my earlier third hand bath.

When I was a child and went to the farm or Zoo there were no signs telling me to sanitise my hands every 10 metres, or child height sinks provided to give my germ infested hands a good scrubbing before exiting. I fed goats and pigs from my hands happily and didn't wash them. In fact I probably fed them and then sat down and had a picnic without considering the fact that I had pig saliva on my hand and subsequently my sandwich.

But guess what??

I survived!

When I worked at the hospital we had a big change of policy from washing our hands every 30 minutes to using hand sanitiser every 15 minutes. Sometimes I'd go a good 45 minutes between doses of sanitiser because frankly it's just not good etiquette to leave someone in mid Barium enema to go sanitise yourself up to your wrists. To my knowledge nobody ever died from my lack of hand sanitiser diligence.

I attended the wedding of my dear friend John in February. The last person in the welcoming line had a big old pump bottle of hand sanitiser to protect us from the germs we just contracted shaking hands with the Bride and Groom and the rest of the wedding party. My friends dad sent me on my way with a handshake and a complimentary pumping of sanitiser.

So if cleanliness really is next to Godliness thanks to that unexpected dose of hand sanitiser I'm happily one step closer.

Tuesday, 22 July 2008


This is another recycled instalment for your reading pleasure.

If you're not a fan of snakes look away now.

My Step dad told me this story and I am still seriously haunted by it.

A guy my step dad works with has a sister and this is her experience. One she'll never ever forget I am sure. In fact one I'll never forget and I heard it third hand.

I have no idea why anyone has a snake as a pet, I have no idea why anyone has any reptile as a pet if I'm completely honest. They're not cute, they're not fun, they're not nice to stroke and frankly they really don't wanna be friends with us humans.

Anyhow Step dad's colleagues sister (Who is clearly insane!) had an Anaconda, which is an exceptionally unsociable kind of snake, for fun they like to curl around a live animal, crush it to death and then eat it all up. (Why wouldn't anyone want an Anaconda as a pet?) She happily let her Anaconda sleep on the end of her bed coiled up each night.

One day she became concerned when she noticed her pet had lost his appetite and promptly took him to the vet for a check up. The vet said he didn't have much experience with snakes but said to keep an eye on him and if he still hadn't eaten in a month to bring him back and they'd have another look.

A month went by and the snake still hadn't eaten so she went back to the vet as he requested. She explained how he still wasn't eating and that he'd recently had an odd change in behaviour. He'd always slept coiled up at the end of the bed and had recently started sleeping outstretched on the bed alongside her instead.

The vet said "Well I don't know much about snakes, one thing I do know, if they're laying stretched out like that, they're sizing you up to eat you!"

So this clever snake had been starving himself to get ready for his super size meal of his lady owner. Stretching himself out alongside her to see if he could fit her in, after he'd kindly crushed her to death first of course.

So there you have it, reason 3421 why people shouldn't have snakes as pets!

As if I needed any more convincing.

Sunday, 20 July 2008

I used to.....

This week all week I am on holiday (please don't come burgle us!) in Wales with Rob's extended family, ALL of them. Well with 5 out 8 of my father in laws siblings and their families. Obviously it will rain all week long and we'll get on each others nerves constantly. But that's only to be expected when you choose Wales as a holiday destination. It is after all hardly the Caribbean.

So I'd thought I'd take this opportunity to recycle some older posts (courtesy of scheduled posting!) that I wrote when I was pretty much the only person reading my blog!


I used to have rock hard abs despite doing no exercise, now I look at my stomach and wonder if I even have abs at all.

I used to look forward to the weekend because it was free time for fun stuff, now I look forward to the weekend because I have an extra pair of hands at my disposal for 48 hours.

I used to think I was legitimately tired before I had kids, now I know I wasn't tired at all but actually perfectly well rested.

I used to know exactly how Dolly the sheep was cloned, now I only remember that she was called Dolly because she was cloned from udder cells.

I used to read plenty of books educating my mind constantly, now I read about how Dinosaurs say goodnight and Gruffalo's.

I used to wear PJ's all day because I could, now I wear PJ's all day because sometimes there is no window of opportunity to get dressed.

I used to judge Mothers who had kids with dried snot on their face, now I know some days it's an achievement to get the little monkeys dressed let alone clean.

I used to think I'd never bribe my kids, now I know the power of a small piece of chocolate.

I used to know the whole Periodic Table of Elements, now I know every single train from Thomas the Tank Engine.

I used to love going to the movies, now I like watching Cars, Toy Story and Peter Pan on DVD with the boys even if it is for the millionth time.

I used to do 3 loads of washing a week, now I do 8.

I used to go to the toilet alone with the door closed, now I have trouble remembering to shut the door when I'm at someone else's house.

I used to take pride in my appearance, now I take pride in my kids.

I used to eat all my dinner by myself and while it was hot, now I get to eat it when it's cold and still have to share.

I used to think I'd have 4 or 5 kids, now I think I'll have 3.

I used to think I couldn't love another child as much as my first, now I know I was wrong.

I used to enjoy 10 hours sleep a night, now I don't remember what that feels like.

I used to think I was happy, Now I know what happiness really is.

Saturday, 19 July 2008

Check Me Out!

This morning I was over at McMommy's checking out this weeks POW (fantabulous way to find great new blogs to read BTW) and I was reading a post at Got Kids, Need Valium (don't we all?) where I have visited before and immediately noticed her brand new and lovely blog design.

I scrolled down to see who was responsible for the makeover and saw that it was Ragan at Blogger Boutique . So I sent her an email this morning when she was no doubt fast asleep and even despite that 8 hour difference in time zones she just finished it. Isn't that incredible?


Now that my blog-self is all spruced up and beautified I just need to find someone to do the same for me in real life.

Though I doubt it'd be as speedy, or cheap.

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Friday, 18 July 2008

Moving On

Thomas has just finished his last ever day at playgroup.

Back in September when he started it felt like he'd be there forever, it flew by in the blink of an eye.

My baby is growing up!

I'm SO not ready.

From September he'll be going to Nursery School five afternoons a week. The sloth in me got a bit caught up in the decision making between morning or afternoon sessions. I opted for afternoon knowing that all Winter long we could fully indulge in lazy mornings in our PJ's. Besides I dread to think what unearthly hour we'd have to arise if I was expected to get all three of us dressed, fed and delivered to the school gates promptly by 9am. (I feel exhausted just thinking about it, particularly because the school is a uphill walk!)

He just doesn't seem old enough to be away from me several hours of every day. Of course when we went to visit his new classroom and teacher he was so taken by the whole 'school' deal and the fact that they had computers and real tools just like daddy (yeah real hammers, nails and saws for 3 & 4 year old's to 'play' with, his teacher assured me nobody has been mutilated to date) that he cried hysterically for 30 minutes when it was time to leave, all the way to the car, all the way home and for about ten minutes on his dad's knee. That boy can cry loud, especially in public! (Obviously that made me feel SO appreciated!)

Yep, the only other kids to cry were the one's who actually didn't want to go in at all (which has generally been the norm with Thomas and new environments) but my child simply didn't want to leave, ever.

Well, at least I know he'll be happy there.

And hopefully not seriously maimed!

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Tuesday, 15 July 2008

Unwanted Attention

On July 10th my blog received an unusually high amount of visits. Of course I quickly came to the realisation that word had finally got out that my blog is truly brilliant. (About time too!)

Then I came to my senses.

Then I thought it must simply be because my new pal Wendi who thinks I'm 'cool' (I'm really not I assure you!) had linked my blog from hers (Cheers Wendi!) and she is supremely popular in Blogland so obviously the masses (very slight exaggeration) would follow.

Turns out Wendi wasn't responsible.

Later I noticed one of my favourite people in the whole wide world, Heidi, had linked my blog from hers too. Heidi and I were missionary companions 10 years ago in Birmingham and I have the fondest memories of the 3ish months we spent together 24/7. Hailing from Las Vegas I was her very first companion and I really do have to applaud myself for the excellent job I made of Anglicising her. Her personality is the perfect combination of sarcasm and the ability to laugh at the misfortune of others to perfectly compliment my own. In response to my belated 4th of July post she did a British version so go check that out so you can see from an American perspective all that is good about England.

To my surprise it turned out Heidi wasn't responsible either.

I started to wonder if maybe my first instinct was actually correct and the world had simply just come to the conclusion that my blog is terrific.

Then I came to my senses again.

Finally I remembered something my friend Rachael had told me about and so I went to check out Google Analytics.

This is what I learned, if you put the words b00bs (notice I'm using zero's there not O's and will always do so from now on I assure you) in a post as I had on the July 9th you're gonna attract a lot of visits to your blog.

Google had a super busy day that day directing people looking for the following:

Abbie Hawkins b00bs,
Abbie Hawkins b00b,
Big b00b blogger,
34FF bra,
Abbie Hawkins,
Abbie Hawkins big b00bies,
Abbie Hawkins bra 34FF b00bs,
Big b00bed Abbie Hawkins,
Big b00bs,
B00b check,
Hawkins 34FF big b00bs,
and finally,
How big is 34FF bra,

Do you know what is really incredibly sad? Not one person googled to see how the bat was doing.

That poor unfortunate bat squished in the padding of a humongous bra cup for 5 hours and nobody in the world cared enough to google about its well being. What kind of world do we live in?

So it would seem that Abbie Hawkins (and yes she is blond) is an international superstar because I got hits from Saudi Arabia to Finland and Hong Kong to Germany.

I can only imagine the calibre of individual who would out of intrigue (and no doubt seeking photographic evidence) google her bra size.

I can only laugh when I consider how ultra disappointed they must have been when they arrived right here.

Where the only b00bs on show belong to preschool boys.

And if they were foolish enough to scroll down in their search they would have been faced with Poop art!

Mwahahahahaha! That'll teach them.

Monday, 14 July 2008

Scary Movie

You know when we buy the kids a new DVD it is not only a gift for them it is totally a gift for me too. Having endured Cars and Toy Story (both 1 & 2) more times than is reasonably expected of any adult human being I figured a change in our viewing material was way way overdue. We do incidently have a whole drawer of kids DVD's but our kids must have really high grading criteria because most of them simply don't cut the mustard. A few will get an occasional viewing but they're really like Lightening McQueen and Buzz Lightyear's poor relations you know.

So we picked up Surf's Up for Eli, for obvious reasons.

Then for Thomas we got this. Considering his favourites are all made by Pixar I figured we were onto a sure thing. A potentially new favourite. Plus it had the added bonus of me never having seen it (hooray!) so I didn't even have to fake enthusiasm when he insisted I sit down right next to him to watch it. I grabbed a blanket thinking if they get engrossed (which they hopefully would!) I could actually grab a nap. (Rob was in the next room so that sounds more neglectful than it really is!)

The verdict from my 3 year old?

Remy and his brother getting struck by lightening? Practically pee your pants laugh out loud for ten minutes hilarious.

The rest? Absolutely no clue.

The minute Remy was separated from his family (13 whole minutes into the movie) Thomas was beside himself. He kept saying he needed to see Grandma. Then proceeded to cry/sob/wail. A lot!

Yep I had to double check it was in fact Ratatouille and not The Shining or The Exorcist I had inserted in the DVD player such was his reaction. (Not that I am brave enough to have such titles in the house, let alone watch them!)

Needless to say I never got a nap and we had to watch Surf's Up instead.

Saturday, 12 July 2008

Three Little Words

Completely Inexplicable Hair
By the way this is our Budding Picasso (or should that be Pooping Picasso?)

In the last two days he has created extensive new masterpieces.

I decided to spare you the photographic evidence.

You must be SO disappointed.

Another For the Family Tree

Welcome to the world Isaac James Stainton.

Firstborn child of Rob's cousin Neil and his wife Katie.

Rob is one of 6 children.

Rob's Dad, Mike, is one of 8.

Rob's grandparents have 31 Grandchildren (so far).

Isaac is Great Grandchild number 7 (with two more due to emerge this Summer.)

He was born on Saturday 5th July weighing in at a whopping 9 pounds 9 ounces and measuring 59cm/23.25 inches. (Clearly with those stats he'll be making good use of our highchair in no time, so it was worth all the trouble after all).

Katie is now my new hero after having him at 42 weeks even though she was offered an induction at 41 weeks, not to mention she endured 43 hours of labour epidural free. I guess she just didn't want to take my good advice.

The boys were thrilled to meet him and Thomas really wanted to gift wrap his Spiderman boots as a present for the new arrival.

Because after all what infant wouldn't appreciate some size 7 wellington boots?

Thursday, 10 July 2008

Awesome:Part Deux

I know I probably don't praise my husband enough.

Last night I was out at Enrichment (a social ladies Church meeting of sorts), we were learning the skillful art of bread making. A million years ago when Rob's grandparents were newlyweds his Grandad worked as a baker. So he was on hand to share with us the tricks of the trade.

I came home with 1 and a half loaves of freshly baked bread and proceeded to eat most of it topped with a ridiculously unhealthy amount of butter.

While I was out Rob did the most romantic thing imaginable.

Bought me flowers?






What he actually did was far more impressive.

He did all the ironing. (Even the things I never do like Pajama's.)

Did I mention I'm not a traditional romantic?

I honestly couldn't have been more thrilled, dumbfounded or proud of my choice of spouse.

I have only recently started to iron myself.

I don't enjoy it (but is it supposed to be enjoyable?) and I only do it out of necessity.

Mostly so the kids look presentable and their friends don't ask them why their clothes have wrinkles in them.

May the untraditional romance in this household long live on.

Wednesday, 9 July 2008

Big B**bs? Check Your Bra

I guess having a bounteous b0s0m isn't all I ever imagined after all:

Bat in the bra
A teenager spoke of her shock after finding a bat curled up in the bra she had been wearing for five hours.
Abbie Hawkins, 19, of Norwich, initially thought it was her mobile phone causing movement in her clothing.
But when she investigated, she found the stowaway creature, hidden in the padding pocket of her 34FF black bra.

(If you wear a 34FF bra do you really require any padding? I think not!)

At least I have no fear of losing a bat in my less than ample chest.

Do you think someone should forward this to Dolly Parton? Just in case.

Who knows what could be dwelling in that cleavage.

Tuesday, 8 July 2008

Belated 4th of July

You know I can't think about the 4th of July without having a little bit of a chuckle. Without fail I recall 4th of July 2000 when I was working for EFY (Church Youth camp) and on waking at some unearthly hour I stepped out into the corridor of Stover Building on BYU campus only to fall into the deathly embrace of a truly hysterical 14 year old girl.

The source of hysteria was not immediately obvious to me. I had already learned that Summer that 14 year old girls aren't particularly easy to understand even when they are being fully rational. Considering the weeping mess in question wasn't rational in the slightest and that at 6am I am not particularly patient (or attractive) I escorted weeping mess back to her room hoping that her room mate could shed some light on the issue at hand.

At this point I was thinking either a fatality had occurred in her family or heaven forbid *NSYNC had disbanded unexpectedly. But when we got to the bottom of things it was neither of my suspected scenarios. Instead the poor girl was simply devastated because she had come to the realisation (dimwitted as it may well have been) that it was just dreadful that her delightful (my word not hers) EFY counselor should have to leave US shores at the summers end only to return to a country completely lacking in liberty.

Now I don't know whether the Utah education service (if that is what it is even called) was to blame or if the girl in question was just a lovely dimwit but I'd like to assure all the world that we are happily enjoying the fruits of liberty on this side of the Atlantic also.

Just in case you needed any clarity on that point.

So in honour of all my lovely friends in the USA I decided to give you a little peek into the reasons Rob and I would actually consider leaving our home and moving Westward.

Rob's 3 reasons (Which I have kindly chosen for him because I am a thoughtful wife like that!)

Taco Bell, on Rob's one and only trip to the states he would have happily eaten at Taco Bell on a daily basis, twice daily even. He could hardly contain his glee at his good fortune of being able to purchase 3 soft taco's for the bargain price of $1 and being able to wash it down with a gallon sized cup of Pepsi. Mexican food is sadly lacking here so even Taco Bell was like fine Mexican dining to Rob.
Root Beer, another US staple sadly lacking from our British lives. Rob recently purchased some from an import place for a pricey $1.40 per can. Criminal. He remembers fondly being able to purchase 12 cans for $3 at Walmart. That gem has frequently come up in conversation.
Rob would happily eat his body weight in these bad boys, but don't tell his dad...he's a dentist!

Carol's 3 reasons
Shaved ice. Simply Amazing. I love that you can get it in just about any flavour imaginable. It is like a pregnant woman's paradise. Peanut butter & Dill Pickle? No problem! Though I always went with the more conservative half grape, half cherry myself!
Pretzels, Pure Carbohydrate heaven. Yummo!
Corn Dogs. Genius invention. When the Siswick's hit Florida in 2005 my sister in law (who had previously lived in Dallas for 18 months) looked at me like I was the definition of white trash for stocking up on corn dogs. I know they're not classy but they are dinner on a stick and I am easily impressed.

You would imagine the prospect of paying 50% less than we pay for petrol (yet you are complaining, Tut! Tut!), or the fact that salaries in the US are higher than here and everything costs half the price would have swayed us somewhat.

But no all of our reasons for ever considering American citizenship are food and beverage related. So it's just as well we aren't ever going to seriously consider it because we'd be living on a diet of Corn Dogs, Taco Bell, Candy, Root Beer and Shaved Ice.

At least our grocery bill would be cheap.

Which is just as well because our inevitable heart bypass would no doubt be pricey!

Saturday, 5 July 2008

A Tragedy

You know how I pretended to be on blogging strike (when really Rob just took the laptop to Scotland on business) because I wasn't happy with my visit:comment ratio?

I don't know what it is exactly but receiving comments about the random contents of my brain that I somehow manage to form into text on my blog makes me feel verified as a human being, not to mention totally super giddy with excitement.

So Rob finally finished his notice period (no more sleeping in for him!) of his last job on Friday and had to return his car, computer, printer and all that great stuff we take for granted to head office.

Do you know what that means? No Internet at home.

Well actually only until Monday.

I actually felt like a junkie going cold turkey. Rob too (fortunately) has been feeling the wrench of being disconnected so I don't feel quite so tragic. (Though I do still feel slightly tragic which I think is justified.)

So we went to visit the in laws this afternoon and pick up my car. Now that Rob's old company car has been returned he is driving the new company car (which I blissfully enjoyed for two weeks) and I am now back to my oil leaking crappy excuse for a car, but a car is a car. It gets me where I need to be and fingers crossed that will long continue.

So while we were at the in laws the family PC was calling me from the computer room, 'Come check your blog, you know there will be comments....' I couldn't resist. (I am only human!) I went on in and logged in.

14 comments. (Yay!!)

Somehow a combination of my incapability in mouse operation (that's what 2 years of laptop only computer contact will do to you)) and sheer panic that Rob would catch me getting my blog fix and mock me endlessly (it had after all been only 36 hours) resulted in a disaster.

I deleted 5 of the lovely comments.

So if you were kind enough to comment on my Game, Set & Match post don't think that during comment moderation I deleted your comment because it was not appreciated.

It was simply deleted because I am a imbecile.

Thanks for your comments whoever you were/are.

If you're wondering how I am managing to post this post without Internet access I am actually high jacking a computer at this moment in time.

As for any other posts over the weekend they were posted utilising the handy scheduled post thingy that blogger kindly does for you.

I love blogger.

Deadly Sins

The truth is out.

I am a envious sloth (as if I even needed to take a quiz for confirmation of the sloth part!) but at least I'm not a wrathful lustrel because that would be far more terrible, right?

Sloth:Very High
Lust:Very Low

Take the Seven Deadly Sins Quiz

Thursday, 3 July 2008

Splashing Out

Remember this tiny paddling pool my mum got the boys? (Of course you do, you all mocked it!)

Well when she actually saw that it wasn't really fit for anything other than bathing a mouse (or any rodent really) she was thoroughly ashamed of her purchase and instead went and got them one more suited to their needs. (Thanks Nanny, you are the best!)

Of course the combination of a broken arm and zero sunshine had forced us to put our new paddling pool in the loft (which Thomas insists on calling an attic, thanks to Max & flaming Ruby) and dream of the sunny day that would hopefully one day come and enable us to fully enjoy it.

Well today was THE day.

After lots of blowing (mostly by Rob) and filling up (entirely by me) our friends arrived and we (meaning the children) played happily in a pool big enough to accommodate more than a rodent.

Of course Rob came home and put the kids big slide into the pool and everyone had a fabulous time.

My gift
didn't even go into overdrive.

Because what is the worst that could happen? A broken arm? (OK maybe a broken and profusely bleeding head but I'll happily overlook that.)

Well we've already been there and it wasn't so bad.

Tuesday, 1 July 2008

Budding Picasso

Yep it's true our Eli is very artistic.

Earlier I was snuggling on the sofa with Thomas and Eli took off to the bedroom. He often does this and when I go check on him he'll be sitting with a stack of books reading Dr. Seuss or something, it is just heart melting. But today he wasn't in a reading mood, he was in a creative mood of sorts.

His canvas of choice? The wall
The bookcase
The radiator

His pen of choice?

100% Pure Poo!

Not so heart melting.

Again I thank the creator of baby wipes (whoever you are I adore you!).

If anyone has space for a two year old I do currently have one available!