Monday Musings

It seems like a while since I have actually blogged, in reality it was only Thursday, but whatever.

Firstly, having recently remarked that I never get spam in my email inbox it seems this one opened a tidal wave of epic proportions. This week alone I have been busy winning both the British and Australian lotteries, I have become beneficiary to millions and millions of pounds due to numerous deaths of obscure relatives I have never heard of or met. Plus on top of that kindly strangers are frequently offering me the opportunity to put all of their gazillions in my bank account while they leave their homelands and move westward for a cut of their cash. Clearly the light of fortune is shining on me brightly right now. Well, either that or I need to change my email address.

Secondly, Eli is happily settled at playgroup (HOORAY!). His teachers tell me by his second session it was like he had always been there. Sadly that did not save me from the look of complete horror I received at his first session from his key worker (who was brand new) when I explained he would bite someone if he got into a scuffle and it wasn't sorted out immediately. She won't be nominating me for any parenting awards that is for sure.

Thirdly, last Monday in celebration of having successfully offloaded Eli at playgroup for 3 hours I hit the supermarket with Thomas (I know, I know how to have a good time don't I?). Having purchased all my groceries without having to reprimand or bribe anyone I headed to get petrol. I was filling up my tank with £1.09 litre/£4.36 per gallon (Yes that is like $8 per gallon, don't feel so hard done to now do you?) when my phone starting ringing. My gut instinct immediately told me it was playgroup calling and that Eli had bitten some unsuspecting child and that he'd been expelled on his very first day. In a state of panic I finished up and found my phone. To my great relief it wasn't playgroup calling, phew! 5 minutes into my journey I heard something on the roof of my car, I glanced into my rear view mirror only to see something flying through the air and hitting the car behind me. Confusion turned to clarity as I realised in my Eli induced panic I had forgotten to put the petrol cap back on and had left it on the car roof. Yes, I am that stupid!

Apparently I am just not satisfied with paying ridiculous money for petrol, I want to fill up and let it freely evaporate into the atmosphere just so that it can be as costly as possible. I had to go to the Peugeot dealer and attempt to buy a new one. After having explained my story to 2 rather amused men I was informed they didn't actually have one in stock so had to go elsewhere but I finally found one. It made for a rather frenzied 3 hours (I didn't even end up with time to bring Thomas home for lunch before dropping him at nursery so he had to make do with a feast of crusty french baguette in his carseat, dry and with no juice to wash it down) without Eli rather than the calm and serene and leisurely time I had envisioned. Fortunately Wednesday was vastly better.

Fourthly, when Thomas arrives at school it is lunchtime for all the kids who are in full time schooling aged 4-7. That means 250ish kids are playing in the playground merrily enjoying their freedom. Three weeks into dropping Thomas off he still without fail says 'The boys and girls are so happy I made it' as we pull up, yep my three year old is in such a happy state of thinking the world revolves about him that he has interpreted their high spirits as simply the whole school being thrilled that he, Thomas Siswick, has arrived for his 2.5 hour stint that takes him into zero contact with the rest of the school.

Lastly, I am wondering when we will walk home from school without the following conversation. We get to this alleyway about 5 seconds from our house where once about 7 months ago there happened to be some dog poop. We now frequent this alley on a daily basis and without fail as soon as we enter it I hear, "where that dog poo go?", "It's gone Thomas that was a really long time ago, someone cleaned it up.", "Who clean that poo, why?" seriously have we nothing better to discuss than the disappearance of some 7 month old dog poo? Maybe I'll have to consider a new route home or talk someone into letting their canine friend poop there because apparently all is just not right in the world if our alley is a poop-less place.

It's the Reason for the Season

I know the secret.

I have discovered how to positively encourage good behaviour from my eldest child.

It may well still be September.

I may have already been using this technique for two weeks.

The technique?

The power of Santa.

Never did I imagine the thought of disappointing Santa would have such a radical effect on a three year olds behaviour.

Fortunately for me he is naive enough to believe I have Santa's number in my mobile phone and can call him to discuss behavioural issues any hour of the day.

Fortunately for me I just have to utter the magic words 'What would Santa say.....' and angelic peace is restored.

I can only hope the magic lasts through to December.

And I can only wish it worked on my two year old.

But in the mean time I am feeling festive already.

Without Prejudice

One day I found myself here only to find a review about Pride and Prejudice. I was excited to see it was all part of a Classics Book Club and before you could say 'Mr Darcy' I was all signed up.

The deadline for reading Pride and Prejudice had already passed but I knew I could squeeze it in and have the next book (Jane Eyre) read on time (October 7th) so I indulged myself.

I love Pride and Prejudice it is the literary equivalent of pulling on your snuggliest PJ's, sitting in your most comfy chair and having a humongous mug of hot chocolate with like 40 sugars. It is pure comfort reading at it's best

I had been attempting to recapture my adoration for Mr Darcy-Firth so I figured this was as good a place to start as any. I have seen the BBC adaptation so many times that when I read the text it is those very same characters I see in my mind.

Pride and Prejudice has long been a favourite of mine for the following reasons:

1. Why use 3 words to make your point when you could use 27 (true of all the classics)?

2. You have to love a bad boy don't you? And P&P has two. I just cannot help myself Wickham fools me every time with his dashing good looks and pleasing words and the fact that he is in the Militia. I always hope somehow he'll surprise me and not turn out to be the shallow monster he really is. Then we have Mr Darcy, who the ladies declared he was much handsomer than Mr. Bingley, and he was looked at with great admiration for about half the evening, till his manners gave a disgust which tuned the tide of his popularity; for he was discovered to be proud, to be above his company, and above being pleased; and not all his large estate in Derbyshire could then save him , well, we all know how that turns out, happily ever after.

3. I think I would have truly loved to live in the setting of Pride and Prejudice. Sure I would have missed denim and electricity but doesn't it just seem a wonderful life to fill your hours with reading, walking, chatting and the occasional ball?

4. I can't help but alter between smiling and grimacing whenever I read of Mr Collins (Mr. Collins is a conceited, pompous, narrow-minded, silly man; you know he is, as well as I do; and you must feel, as well as I do, that the woman who married him cannot have a proper way of thinking.) and his smarmy nature, his refusal to accept Elizabeth would not choose to marry him and his devout adoration of that old beast Lady Catherine De Bourgh.

5. Mrs Bennett a woman of mean understanding, little information and uncertain temper. To give her an ounce of credit she was concerned about the welfare of her and her daughters should her husband pass away but all the same I would be thoroughly mortified if she were my parent. For which reason I find her highly entertaining. Her lack of thinking before speaking and inevitably saying the wrong thing in the presence of the wrong people never ceases to be amusing.

6. The Spice Girls think they invented 'girl power' but they are sadly mistaken. It was Jane Austen in her heroine Elizabeth Bennett instead. I applaud Lizzy for standing up for herself endlessly and so articulately to boot. I wish I were half the woman she was back in my dating days.

In essence it is a witty and romantic love story and what is there to dislike about that? So if you haven't read it, slap yourself around the head and go get a copy.

You will not be disappointed!!

The Grino Goes to School

Remember not so long ago I was harping on about Thomas starting nursery and not feeling ready for that stage?

Well I really need to clarify, it wasn't the thought of him being gone 12.5 hours a week (I was excited about that for both of us I assure you) that pulled on my heart strings it was the fact that he is getting bigger and more independent all the time and I just simply can't keep up.

For goodness sake he was just born and he is already 3 and next time I blink he'll no doubt be fully grown and leaving home (see how I completely bypassed the teenage years there? Yep, I am in denial and we're 9 years away). Time betrays me every day by going too quickly.

Two weeks in he adores Nursery School but every day I collect him he seems just a little bit smarter and a tiny bit bigger. I have to admit though the last two weeks I have revelled in the wisdom of my decision making skills by choosing to send him in the afternoons. We have happily idled away our mornings waking at 8:30, breakfasting at leisure and dressing sometime before noon. It has also been lovely to have quality time with Eli every single day.

I have been feeling like life is pretty much perfect.

Then on Thursday I got the most terrific phone message ever. It was Thomas's old playgroup calling to say that they had Eli on their waiting list to start in January (the next term after he turns 2.5) but because they're familiar with him and he is used to the environment would I like to start him a little bit earlier, like on Monday????

YES I REALLY REALLY WOULD!!

I was so excited by the prospect I had to listen to the message 4 times to get her number to call her back. I returned her call and made sure she knew that he wasn't potty trained (and I have no intentions of attempting him being so) and that he wasn't 2.5 yet. She knew both things and they were still happy to take him. Hooray!

So on Monday and Wednesday he will be attending playgroup. I am thrilled for him and even more so for myself.

Back when I made the slothful decision to send Thomas in the afternoons I knew when Eli started playgroup in January he would be going in the mornings.

You know what that means? It means I could have had 6 beautiful hours to myself, every single week. But in some obvious attempt to win some Mother of the year contest I actually decided to put the kids before myself (could I be more motherly?) and have them go at alternate times so I could have quality time with one while the other was busy at school/playgroup. That has to be award worthy, seriously.

I was elated at the prospect of him being a big boy and attending playgroup right up until I climbed into bed on Thursday night. I lay there waiting for sleep to come and my head filled with thoughts.

What if it turns out like that time I helped out and took Eli along?

What if he bites someone? (Always a possibility where Eli is concerned.)

What if he is just too young?

What if creates poop art there?

What if they discover his double butt and think he's a bit odd?

Eli is my baby. He may well be 2 and 4 months but he is my baby.

He is our youngest and he is starting playgroup and becoming independent.

I had my babies close together and every day felt 47 hours long and it felt like they would be babies forever. But now neither of them are babies.

I felt sad.

I knew the day was coming but January seemed so far away and so much more manageable.

Think of me because tomorrow (slightly reluctantly) I become the mother of two big boys.

The Bad Parenting Chronicles: Episode 8

On our very leisurely stroll (is there any other speed in the company of a 3 year old?) back down the hill from school with Thomas in tow we have to pause at every single flower bearing weed we pass.

This wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't for the fact that most of the school are actually following us down the hill and Thomas walks considerably slower than them all. I am sure we are a common cause of frustration. (We must be annoying because slow walking infuriates me beyond measure, of course I have just traipsed up the hill to collect Thomas with Eli to push so all I am fit for at this point is a slow trundle downwards, so I can overlook it).

At every weed he stops and stoops down and very slowly picks me off a flower and hands it to me saying 'That's for you mummy', it is sweet I admit (plus these are the only flowers I ever receive so it'd be rude to be ungrateful). But by our journeys end I have more flowers (that are actually weeds) than I know what to do with.

On arriving home the other day I emptied the contents of my pocket into the bin by the door giving it very little consideration.

Later on Thomas approached me with the flowers in his hand and a look of grave concern on his face,

"My find these flowers in the bin mummy."

He looked so sad and almost betrayed that I did what I had to....

I lied!

"Oh no Thomas they must have fallen out of my pocket by accident into the bin, thank you so much for finding them for me."

He handed them back to me with a look that indicated that he'd accept my answer but that he wasn't completely convinced it was the actual truth.

I placed them on the desk and he frequently came to check they were still right there and not accidentally discarded.

I guess in future I'll just have to remember to conceal them a little bit better because I think he's getting to the age where he is suspicious I might not be 100% honest.

Dishonesty, now that's is something you have to be proud of teaching your kids (drips with sarcasm).