Out For the Count

I think we all know how much I enjoy moderating my comments.

I'm so easily pleased, I know.

The last few weeks I have been utterly baffled.

Blogger has lost the ability to count correctly.

My two year old can count to 14 all by himself.

I am expecting Blogger to be slightly more intelligent than Eli.

Is that really too much to ask?

What am I rambling on about you wonder?

Without fail I always have one more comment than Blogger informs me I have.

At first I thought Blogger was just having a bad day.

I sympathised, we all have days like that after all.

Lately I am having a few (thanks kids!).

But weeks on the madness continues.

You know what the worst thing is?

Sometimes when it says I have no comments to be moderated if I click on moderate comments lo and behold there is a single lonely comment anxiously waiting acceptance.

What is the world coming to when even Blogger is keeping secrets and lying to you?

See this is exactly why I am concerned about my children's future.

A deceitful blogger account is surely just the beginning of the end.

Remember, Remember the 5th of November:Fireworks & Festivities

Last night was no less than our most random British celebration.

Bonfire night/Guy Fawkes night.

Yes, that cheery celebration of catching those crafty catholic conspirators who plotted to blow up the Houses of Parliament with gunpowder way back in 1605 when frankly gunpowder was the best option you had for attempting to blow up British government or anything else really.

That Guy Fawkes fella was the chief conspirator and so therefore greedily gains all the glory by having the whole evening named after him.

Luckily their plans were foiled and they had the pleasure of death by being hung, drawn and quartered. (The good ole days were fun, right?)

So in memory of the occasion us Brits unite for some Fireworks and of course generally food.

When I was a kid (forever ago) we used to make our own Guy's out of old tights and clothing stuffed with newspaper and fling him on the bonfire during the nights festivities, you know, just for fun.

Bonfire night has had mixed reviews from our kids thus far. Year one at 10 months Thomas was enthralled and delighted, Year two he was terrified and Eli was oblivious, Year 3 we decided to skip it entirely (which is practically treasonous behaviour) and this year we just planned to attend our church shindig which some bright spark (no pun intended) had arranged for Friday night.

Friday night is 2 days too late for Bonfire night.

But we figured we could get away with it because fireworks have been sporadically going off now for weeks and fortunately our kids are too young to pay any kind of attention to a calendar. Phew!

Alas I didn't take into account that both playgroup and school would be whipping them into a fireworks night frenzy yesterday (thanks for that British educational system) Thomas came bounding out all over excited that today was the big day and we could have a bonfire and fireworks.

I explained that we were having ours on Friday instead at church with all his friends. He reacted like I just told him Santa doesn't exist coupled with a future without TV.

Yes, that badly.

Fast forward a few hours and we were in the in laws garden. Rob had been to Tesco to get us some family friendly fireworks. (I have to admit all fireworks are spoiled forever to me now. Having spent 4th of July at Disney's Magic Kingdom nothing can top that. It was seriously firework heaven. Everything else is just a bit lacking in comparison.)

Impressive I know!
One little boy who is thrilled regardless.

So you may recall we have two kids.

One of which practically emotionally blackmailed us into the whole impromptu fireworks fandango.

Where's Thomas you wonder?

Well this will be our firstborn indoor with grandma because after the very first lame firework he announced 'I want to go home now!' Typical.

So I'll leave you with a cheerful little ditty we used to sing as kids at this time of year,

Guy, Guy, Guy,
Poke him in the eye,
Put him on the Bonfire and let him die.

Charming, no?

Well That's Not British!

I recall when I decided to join the classics book club over at 5 minutes for books that it'd be just the incentive and motivation I needed to read all of those books that a person really should read before they die.

I figured with all the novels of Austen, Dickens and Hardy alone we had a good few years worth of titles to trudge our way through.

So when I saw this last months selection was A Tree Grows in Brooklyn I thought to myself 'WHAT?' I came to the sad realisation that I am a patriotic literary snob, a fact that I had never previously discovered about myself. How could this Betty Smith woman and her book that I had never heard of in all my life be regarded as a classic?

How could it be in the same league as Pride and Prejudice and Jane Eyre (even if it was a bit of a yawn-fest)? I almost opted out. After all nobody cares if I play along or not. But then I saw the selection for January was Hamlet. I am most definitely skipping that one.

Now don't get me wrong I don't mind some Shakespeare, the fellow was an odd looking genius and I have spent many a day visiting his hometown of Stratford Upon Avon but please oh please spare me the Monarchy and spare me the tragedies. I love Shakespeare for his comedies and his comedies alone (truly you have to watch Much ado about nothing if only for Keanu Reeves in leather pants and not a stitch else).

So not wanting to slack off for two months I decided to read A tree grows in Brooklyn. I put my British literary snobbishness aside and dove in.

The result?

Never have I been both so depressed and so inspired by the same book.

I loved it.

I also have to admit it was a welcome relief to read it after the wordiness of those Austen and Bronte chicks.

I found the character of Francie enchanting from start to finish.

I love that Sissy reaffirmed to me that we can judge people for their actions but their hearts may make them better people than we actually are.

I loved too that I came to the realisation that parenting isn't about being perfect. It is about doing the best we can to make our children's lives better than our own. Though I may not be able to meet every single one of my children's needs perfectly if I do what I can it will benefit them and they in turn will benefit their children.

As one generation passes and another is born new opportunities abound and families are the vehicles for these opportunities.

Generally when I read I give the book away when I am finished (or else our house would be a library by now) but this one I am keeping in my permanent collection.

The selection for next month is Charles Dickens:A Christmas Carol (to be read by December 2nd) so I'll happily be resuming my British literary snobbishness for that. Why not join in?

Giving Thanks at the Wrong End of November

I may not be American and I may not officially recognise the Thanksgiving holiday as such but today I would feel beyond ungrateful if I didn't give just a little, but very specific thanks.

I am eternally thankful for the inventor/creator or the portable DVD Player.

Yesterday we had a 5 hour trip to take with the kids to a family baptism.

Anything beyond an hour these days requires a family sized pack of sedatives to ensure we all survive.

So we may have borrowed the DVD players without asking from the in laws house while they were away.

We may have even had to listen to Aristocats and Cars simultaneously, but that was a joyous and welcome treat in comparison to the whining, grumping and pouting we usually have to contend with. (Besides isn't the Cars soundtrack pretty cool? Or is that just me?)

I now know what is going on my list to Santa.

It may not be very indulgent but anything sanity preserving has to be the best gift EVER!

Dear Santa.....

Halloween and Rob's birthday both behind us we enter into my territory.....

Christmas.

Having pulled out my Santa card on Thomas weeks ago I am gutted to admit the novelty has started to gradually wear off. Santa's all powerful gift control no longer makes my 3 year old stop in his naughty tracks. I guess naughtiness is just more alluring than gifts to this child. (Lucky me when he is older).

Last week was half term from school and Rob was away in Scotland with work so the kids and I went to stay at my mum's where I got to share bunk beds with Thomas. (I am actually thinking that bunk beds are the way forward, having returned last night and slept in my own bed I sadly missed the bunk beds. I am thinking we need some for our room. All the convenience and company of having Rob close by but without the inconvenience of his cover hogging and trampolining style turning over, maybe I'll just have to suggest it.)

Anyhow during such visit we ended up in a shop that sold toys. To which Thomas reacts by requesting one by one each and every toy on their shelves. To which I respond like I always do, "well we can't buy any right now because if we do Santa won't know what to bring you" the combination of too many late nights at nanny's house and pure greed resulted in him not being completely satisfied with that response.

Finally he was happy to buy nothing if we could write his list to Santa right away when we got back to Nanny's house, just to be sure he didn't forget anything that he really needed Santa to bring him.

So I present to you our gift lists to Santa.......

Thomas: (FYI 'mash up' is what the boys do with their dad roughly translates as wrestling)

Diego Rescue Pack

Golden Coin Maker (thank you Nickelodeon for putting this idea into his head BTW)

A Game with Monkeys

A new DVD of a stagecoach

A mash up stage

A jigsaw with an animal picture

A water squirting game

A kicker man to mash up

A mash up turtle

New pictures

New Plates

New Door

Teapot

Peppa Pig Ball (Previous 5 are due to him getting slightly distracted and just naming whatever he saw as he looked around Nanny's house, he does the same thing in his prayers, very entertaining to get an inventory of his bedroom each night)

Brand new white car (which I am hoping is actually for me)

Fire shooter

Fire engine

Peppa Pig house with beds

A shop

Eli:

Dora Back Pack

Diego Rescue Pack (not that he's completely obsessed or anything)

So there we have it.

So now that it is officially Christmas I am off to break out my Frank and Bing CD's and the kiddo's are watching Mickey Mouse's Once Upon a Christmas as I type.

Ho! Ho! Ho!