Thursday, November 29, 2007
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Léon came into the dining room tonight having found this old ghetto blaster in a box that was still to be unpacked. He asked what it was and we replied a ghetto blaster. He thought seriously a moment, then wandered away happily muttering telly bastard to himself over and over!
Note to self: must speak more clearly in future...
Monday, November 26, 2007
I have a Facebook account myself, though I don't use it much, but Bebo is definitely aimed at a much younger audience, I feel - it's bright, it's messy, it's noisy and trendy - in short it makes me feel old. I mentioned Facebook to Marcel and he looked blank - I logged in to show him it. He looked for 2 minutes and concluded - oh Facebook is a tidy boring Bebo for adults! I actually find it quite strange Bebo is pretending to be enforcing a 15 limit, given Marcel and many of his school friends have not only uploaded photos, showing they are really just little kids, they have created groups like 'Kirkhill primary' group - primary? A sure giveaway you aren't 15 if you go to primary school, no?!
Anyway, as is to be expected - the Bebo pages are full of little kids trying to sound all grown up using pseudo swear words etc. I figured my best bet, instead of heavyhandedly banning its use, was a bit of supervising, and threatening to check up and actually creating a Bebo account of my own, linking it to Marcel's so I would be notified of any updates he makes, and logging onto it periodically. At first it seemed to gain me some 'cool' Brownie points - a mum with a Bebo account! Within 2 hours of creation, I'd had an email from his 11 year old friend Kristian asking me to be his 'friend'! Sweet! By the time Marcel got in from school, however, I think the cool factor was wearing thinner - he asked me to log in so he could create a profile for me, complete with photo and a background of red roses chosen by Charlotte - I think my bare bones Bebo was starting to embarrass them. By tomorrow they'll have attached some dodgy Youtube clips, a gif or two of Homer Simpson farting or burping and no doubt some stick dogs shagging!
I have to conclude I am way too old for Bebo, I can just about cope with Facebook, but am really more of a Bloggy Flickrer myself, sorry!
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Saturday, November 17, 2007
...1 hour later - why oh why are England always so bloody hoachy?
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Friday, November 09, 2007
Thursday, November 08, 2007
This is madness.
I had Marcel at 29, and Lots just 4 weeks before I turned 32. I felt it was just about right. I had had time for uni, time to backpack round Europe till my heart was content, time to work a bit and buy my first flat and I was young enough to cope with the sleepless nights, working full time for years on end on broken sleep.
I had Léon just before I turned 38. The pregnancy was harder. My hips hurt more, I was tireder, everything just a little slower. This time round the same is true. I lie awake in pain from my hips night after night and feel exhausted trying to work a 21 hour week.
What I am trying to say is that I have tried pregnancy at 30 and at 40 and your body is definitely better suited to it at 30. You conceive quicker too. You have fewer complications, fewer miscarriages. You give birth to babies who in general stand a much better chance of still having grandparents into their young adulthood. Why is this so frowned upon here? Why am I less of a woman if I put babies before career? I've tried both and I know for sure which is the more important job. Ironically, over my years in industry I have watched a succession of real career women work hard till their late 30s, try to squeeze in a late baby and then realize that is what they preferred all along. And those are the lucky ones - the ones who didn't leave it too late. More and more in the UK with stagnant wages but ever-rising nursery costs people turn to their parents for childcare but how does that work? It is bad enough with this generation, our 20-something parents are becoming grandparents mid-60s and yet many are expecting those 60-somethings to babysit 7 hours a day for up to 5 years per grandchild, but imagine our kids also wait to 40 - will I be expected to babysit Léon's or the new baby's kids daily from 80-85, if I am alive and not yet senile? Crazy! But if costs keep rising there will be no alternative. Currently you generally need two salaries to pay a mortgage, and yet each child costs you £600-£700 a month in nursery fees for 4 years minimum. I calculated once that I had laid out £60K on childcare by the time Charlotte started school at 5. Something needs to change.
I firmly believe we should stop pressurizing women to wait. I'd happily have started having kids around 26 but felt society would frown on me for squandering my education if I did. I think my kids are happier for knowing their grandparents and hope my grandchildren will too. I am not saying never have a kid at 40. If you only meet Mr Right at 40, of course have a kid at 40 but if you marry Mr Right at 25, why wait 15 years for nothing? It is just wrong.
The temper was usually marked by Gordy doing something Léon disapproved of, Léon screaming Bad boy Gordy and Gordy then pushing Léon, though of course two seconds later they were back hugging and snogging as always.
The territorial bits seemed to involve them both wanting the red Ikea chair, but again that was resolved by distraction, thanks to Charlotte.
The bullying, however, was unexpected and quite amusing. I put them both in the car along with Marcel at 4 O'clock to go get Charlotte who was attending gym club. As Gordy is the younger, I put him in Léon's usual seat and Léon in the age 1-4 booster with back that I usually reserve for the over 3s. First, Léon teased Gordy: Nénaw (that's what he calls himself) big boy seat, Gordy baby seat. Gordy didn't bat an eyelid. Then Léon tried: Gordy no touch Nénaw's jacket, again Gordy just stared at him, so he upped the ante with and Gordy no touch Nénaw's big boy seat!.
Kids! Why is it we teach them to talk?!
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
Well today turned out to be interesting. I had an ante-natal at the hospital instead of my usual GP one. Last time I was at the hospital around 8 weeks ago, I asked whether there was anything special about the way they were going to treat me given my age. At the time they said that the only consequence of being so old was that they would not let me go past my date and have me in on my due date with a view to induction.
Today I saw the other consultant and nonchalantly mentioned to her that I saw little need to book an appointment that day as she had just told me the baby was much further down in my pelvis than she'd have expected for 35 weeks. She said her policy was quite different on induction and told me that if she was the one who saw me the week I was due, she would only induce birth if there were signs of placental breakdown. She went on to say that if both the baby and I were well, she would wait the normal 10 days and then induce me. I laughed and mentioned that 10 days meant December 24, so assumed she'd reconsider. She didn't see any need and booked me in for 12 midday on December 24. I mean this is kid 4 and I have never got to a due date yet, so doubt I should be worried but on the off chance the different genetic makeup does delay labour, wouldn't that be ironic? The only heathen in the family would manage to provide a grandchild for the ministerial family on Christmas night - hahaha! If she'd been a boy, should we have called her Jesus?