Tuesday, September 30, 2008
The first time I saw these food sachets in Tesco, I was drawn to them because the flavours sounded so awful: broccoli, pear and peas (together - surely that is cruel?) - yeuch! Thomas, being more evil than me, decided to see if she'd like it - and she does. In particular she likes to suck the food from the sachet itself. Maybe it is less painful on her teething gums than a spoon... or maybe she just feels less like she's being spoonfed like a baby!
Anyway their first choice was archery. Marcel qualified as an adult (gulp) so went off to do it himself. Charlotte was a child so had to do it with a parent. We drew straws - who got to babysit Pudge and Bits, who got to play archery. I got the archery, Thomas got the babies.
We were given a short lesson and told where not to stand if we intended to stay alive beyond the end of the next hour and each given a little leather strap to protect the forearm. It was actually fun. Lots was having a ball, and after a few trial shots I got it too.
You stand side on, feet shoulder width apart, straighten the left arm out in front of you and draw back your bow string and right arm to your right ear, then you let go and the arrow shoots into the bulls eye... What the man in charge of the lesson doesn't tell you, probably because he doesn't wear an E-cup bra though, is that there is no was to stop the string chopping your left nipple off as the arrow flies towards the target... At this point I was beginning to wonder if there was any way to strap the leather forearm protector to my boob instead of my arm as my boobs were nipping far more than my arm. As the lesson progressed, I slowly got worse and worse at archery as I tensed up in the wrong places and at the wrong times to avoid the inevitable twang. It is a shame because it was quite fun to start with. Maybe next time, with a steel-reinforced bra, it could be quite cool.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
So why (see right) do these numpties make mini-adult t-shirts leaving poor babies searching hopelessly for their arms and hands? This is a matching 9-12 month t-shirt and trousers from ASDA. The trousers are perfect for Anna, as is the t-shirt in length but she'll be about 3 before her arms grow into the sleeves. Contrast this with the age 6-12 month jeans from Primark. The waist is perfect but the legs will be fine in about 8-12 months time. And Tesco doesn't escape either. Their denim baby shorts assume 6 month olds with thin thighs... of course breastfed pre-crawlers have legs like tree trunks so poor Anna spent the summer with rings round her thighs caused by overtight clothes. The end result is me having to take in or up baby clothes constantly, and with the sewing skills of a two-toed sloth, the result is rarely pretty.
Come on guys - stop the sloppy work and give me a break. If I had wanted to spend my life sewing, I wouldn't have failed Home Economics at the age of 13.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
We started playing Scrabble once or twice a month with the bigger kids in the hope it'd help their spelling and vocabulary. I know many of my workmates will die of shock at the thought of a colleague actually playing Scrabble for pleasure (because we publish all the UK Scrabble titles many of our colleagues would feel an hour spent on anything to do with Scrabble was overtime and would feel they'd deserve to be paid for the purpose!)
Anyway, the games were going well but there were two main problems when playing with an 8 year old and (as was then) a 10 year old, and that was that finding many words with the X, J, Z or Q was hard work, and that the last two or three rounds when you were down to two or three letters were equally impossible.
Thomas came up with the idea of getting the three Scrabble books from the office bookshop:
Need to know? Scrabble
Great, we now had a source of two and three letter words. We had lists of all the words beginning with the obscure letters and we had hints at what could be done with many letter combinations. But surprisingly, although the kids are enjoying the game more than ever, given their newfound ability to win with really obscure words, I have gone from relishing our games from an educational perspective, to finding them utterly pointless, or borderline pointless anyway.
The kids are using their dictionary skills at least to find new and weird words, but given the Scrabble words book has no definitions, this is simply a means to winning and no longer educational. Tonight the kids came up with bowat, jape, mugg, zelants and qat - all great words but they haven't a clue what any of them mean! As a dictionary writer of 18 years experience I tend to think if even I don't recognize a word, then the kids shouldn't be using it to beat me at Scrabble.
We have completely lost focus of why we started to play the game in the first place.
It also opened my eyes to the Scrabble nuts out there. They play to win, not to learn anything. In fact winning is so important, they would be happy to play Scrabble in a language they don't speak rather than lose a game... incomprehensible.
I guess they are a different breed of weirdo nerd from me.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Léon's always been a wee bit of a worry healthwise. First it was the scare we had in New York, then the chicken pox and the fall out of that that left him on an asthma inhaler for a year and this year his little face cysts.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
They quite often get in a bit of a mess cooking.
I always thought professional chefs' jackets cost an arm and a leg so had never even considered one before meeting Thomas. Thomas had one, of course, but then he knows how to cook properly, so again I assumed they were dear. He had always moaned about his being too big so I went onto Nisbets kitchen website to check out new ones only to find that professional chefs' jackets, in both adult and kiddie sizes are dirt cheap.
So now school clothes can be protected against chocolate, sparking grease and pasta sauce and they can look cute as hell.
Only problem is that with the jacket on, Marcel will probably assume it is ok to swear like Gordon Ramsay, even in front of Pudge, just for effect.
Brussel flower carpet / Bruxelles tapis de fleurs 2008
Originally uploaded by guillaumeo
I hate carpets. I have never lived in a house with a carpet (since I left home). Every house I have bought has had carpets but I have always sanded the floors, laminated the floors or whatever. Carpets and babies don't mix - they dribble, they shit, they vomit. Carpets and toddlers don't mix - they potty train, they crayon, they spill juice. Carpets and school kids (in Scotland) don't mix - they play sports in the rain and mud. Carpets in the dining room should, to my mind be a criminal offence.
For a year now we have owned a house carpeted in 7 of the rooms in the same pale beige disaster - if I could afford to do anything to the this house, the first thing would be to refloor it in wood. So far we have got rid of it in 2 rooms but until the living room and dining room are done I will be miserable.
Now with my Dyson dead in a corner, I feel the carpet crunching beneath my feet every time I walk, and every meal is followed by me crawling around on all four trying to capture the fallout in a dustpan.
Surely if there was a God, he'd let me win just enough on the lottery to refloor my downstairs!?
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Thomas decided to come too.
We went to all the hassle of arranging babysitters on a week night and dashing out just 15 minutes after Thomas comes home from work to a 2 hour session.
The psychologist told us straight out he would offer no advice and give no opinions, he was just there as a facilitator. The course basically consisted of couples being split up, so they were no longer discussing relevant kids, but instead were discussing child management with a stranger who randomly had a kid of a completely different age. Given we received a course book, I am tempted to simply take it to bed and try the role plays and discussions with a more relevant adult about 4 more relevant kids...
Let's see how that strategy goes before committing to another dash across the back road to Barrhead in the pouring rain still chewing on my dinner...
ps I'll shut up about Ryanair now, I think I've exhausted the topic for the moment! (Sigh of relief)
Friday, September 12, 2008
The actual flight and service on board leave me indifferent in general but just booking tickets with them leaves me incensed every time.
As you know we had our flights cancelled earlier in the week so have had to go back on their website to rebook.
I guess some perverse little nerd has been paid to go through their booking site and flag up every possible point where they can screw you for extra money.
The first thing that made me rage was their infant policy. If your child is under two, they are an infant. Here's how it works on a normal old fashioned airline, eg Continental. You can buy an infant ticket at approximately 10% of an adult ticket and sit them on your lap, or, if you are feeling flush, you can buy them a child's ticket at 70% of an adult one and they can sit on their own seat except when the fasten seat belt sign is on at which time they are strapped to your lap. Obviously, not being rich, I usually opt for the first option. On Ryanair you can buy an infant ticket or nothing. So where's the problem? When Ryanair runs its special deals - £1 ticket, free tickets where you pay only taxes etc you aren't allowed to opt for a full price ticket for your infant and your infant doesn't qualify for their special offers, so I have just got into the ludicrous situation where the 4 adults are paying £4 return for seats to Denmark in November, but the infant, who has no seat is paying £16 each way. Why am I not allowed to buy Anna a £1 seat???
Next little annoyance is online check in. Ryanair has decided to charge everyone £8 per person to check in in the airport - funny I thought that was the whole point of the airport. So I opt for online check in to save £8 per person. A box pops up telling me I must use airport check in because I am travelling with an infant even if the infant has no baggage (they aren't allowed any baggage despite paying a ticket 16 times more expensive than the adult accompanying them who is allowed 10kg hand luggage and 15kg in the hold). Discrimination against babies!!!! So I agree to pay their petty little £8 to unnecessarily check Anna in in the airport, meaning I have to go to Edinburgh an hour earlier and they then give me a little pop up box telling me Anna can't check in alone as she is an infant, the adult who is carrying her also needs to check in in the airport at an obligatory cost of £8 despite having no check in bags (which of course had I been taking I'd need to tell them about in advance and pay to check each one into the hold). They are a penny pinching shower of robbers.
Finally I ask to pay - they want to add another £8 to my bill, 5 times £8 to be precise. I check the small print - this is a credit card handling fee, not per credit card, not per transaction but per passenger - now they are really taking the piss - the bill is £130 once I add on taxes and they want me to pay an extra £40 credit card handling... Fine I annul the whole thing and delve into my handbag for my debit card instead - yip you guessed it - they then add on £40 debit card handling charge. I try everything - my visa, my mastercard, my American Express and my debit - they all cost the same - there is no way not to incur the £40 charge (unless I maybe try bartering - sending them some sheep perhaps), so how can they justify it as a separate charge???
Ryanair, I hate you!!!!!!!
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
In October we were planning to go over to see Thomas's parents. This trip was to kill several birds with the one stone.
- Thomas was going to say goodbye to the house he grew up in as his parents are moving out at the end of the year.
- My parents were coming with us to see where Thomas grew up before his parents moved out.
- Brita and Peter were going to get to see their granddaughter rather than having to wait until Christmas.
Unfortunately thanks to Boeing we will now have to come up with a plan B, or abandon the idea altogether.
For once it doesn't seem to be Ryanair's fault though.
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Monday, September 08, 2008
These are my parents. There is one thing I find really odd about my parents... My dad likes to take photos too... but he leaves them in the camera - he would probably leave them there forever if mum didn't stick them on their computer and edit all his photos. Dad doesn't edit ever. Mum doesn't take photos ever - it is like they make up one photographer between them - weird... how can she know what he wanted the photo to look like? She must because he seems happy enough with the result.
It'd drive me batty though!
Sunday, September 07, 2008
I expected they'd quickly tell me what it was and fob me off with a tube of cream but much to my disappointment, they actually didn't know what it was and decided to try firstly to treat it with steroids and antibacterial cream and have him come back in 10 weeks for a check up.
We are now 3 days into the 5 day course of steroids and to my mind it looks worse.
Is there no one who can point me in the direction of the solution to his sore face?
Firstly, they forget to say that because they are breathing through their mouths due to blocked noses, they won't be able to breastfeed. Every time they latch on, they get three slugs of milk down their throat before they need to breathe so pull off and cry. Of course the three slugs is enough for the let down reflex to kick in so you are left with a jet of milk shooting across the carpet from one or other of your boobs.
Secondly they don't sleep very well so end up in and out of your bed for three days turning you into a zombie (with your own cold by this time).
Finally, and most impressively, by day three or four, because your 6-8 month old cherub has not mastered nose-blowing, gallons of snot will have accumulated in their gut. Now here's the main bit they forget to tell you - read closely because it always happens. The gut reaches full snot capacity and decides the only possible course of action is projectile vomit. Three gallons of snot and that day's breakfast and lunch will come out at 100mph hitting you square in the face before drenching your couch and walls.
I guess the moral is: on day three and four of your infant's first cold, don't feed them pasta with tomato sauce but something a little closer in colour to your wallpaper or upholstery.
(I am, of course, sitting here drenched in three gallons of snot, some toast crumbs and a bucketful of regurgitated scrambled egg... Get well soon, Anna!)
With family abroad, I travel more often than average.
The last few times I have gone to London, or gone elsewhere via London, I have chosen to fly Easyjet rather than Ryanair for that leg of the journey, usually then linking up to a Ryanair flight to the continent.
There are several things I prefer about Easyjet in comparison with Ryanair:
- Easyjet leaves from nearby Glasgow, not distant Prestwick
- Easyjet's ticket price is the ticket price - they don't make you add on £8 a bag , £5 per carseat, and all that cryptic nonsense Ryanair likes to add on to annoy you
- Easyjet doesn't make you tell them in advance (months in advance) how many bags you want to bring on board
- Easyjet doesn't make you weigh or measure the volume of your hand luggage - if it fits, it fits - they don't care
- with Easyjet you can have priority boarding just because you have an infant without having to pay extra, so there is no half hour queue to get on the plane and no worry you can't get a seat beside your 2 year old child
- Easyjet's staff tend to be courteous native English speakers - older than your average Ryanair Eastern European teenager who has learned the announcements off by heart but who looks blank when you put an unexpected question. Their staff aren't on a power trip and they don't give you attitude
- Ryanair plays you an ear-shatteringly annoying fanfare every time a flight lands at destination on time
- Easyjet uses bright shiny new Airbuses which I personally prefer to Boeing 737s
However, it is with regret that I have resolved in future only to fly Ryanair down to London. Strange decision, you might think, but no. The one advantage Ryanair has over Easyjet on the London route in particular, but on all routes as far as I can see after using them literally hundreds of times is punctuality. I would say 95% of the Ryanair flights I have taken over the years have been on time. Recently none of the Easyjet ones have. We were delayed several hours to and from Denmark costing us £350 in lost flights in the summer. Some work colleagues flew Easyjet to Glasgow last week, again arriving and departing 2-3 hours late. With point to point airlines you can unfortunately put up with any crap except delay because delay means missing connecting flights.
Friday, September 05, 2008
Today I was in Yorkhill hospital. A nurse was taking a blood sample from Léon. She read his notes: Léon Gautier - wow what a lovely name - it sounds like a film star, she said. What's his sister's name? she asked pointing at Anna, who was along for the ride.
Anna I replied
Quick as a flash she said Anna Gautier - that's lovely. They are so gorgeous, and sooo alike - but not like you - are they like their dad? Hmmm technically yes - Pudge, though not very André-like is a definite Gautier, a bit like André's brother Claudi with his pale eyes and Anna is Thomas's double... I didn't bother explaining the ins and outs so smiled and replied that they were indeed.
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
Her poor old mum wasn't too pleased either when they explained she wasn't really getting out.
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
I wonder if there is a sushi diet - that might work to help me lose the baby weight from the last pregnancy... though that does sound like an expensive option!