Brain freeze: de-icer required for mama

Ever get those total panic moments when a hot sweat rises up over you (not in the nice way) when you realize something has gone wrong in a big way? I had one of those moments yesterday, but it didn’t pass so quickly, it lingered about half an hour as I panicked and scuttled around trying to find the £40 that was in my trouser pocket before leaving for the park.

I put the money in my pocket to pay the childminder that we were heading off to (via the park), and only upon leaving the park did it dawn upon me that my pockets were empty…bar a few snotty tissues (yes another cold). 

Babe at the park - no money here.

 For the next half hour I trawled back and forth from the park to home, retracing every mama and toddler footstep. Recounting when I had carried babe for those few minutes and the exact points at which I had riveted around in my pockets to locate a tissue to wipe our cold wind-swept dripping noses – nada. No cash-io, no note-io…no tenner, no twenty – the streets were as poor as when I arrived.

It turns out that the house was a rich as when I’d left. After checking every nook and cranny (if I’d dropped the money from my pocket when going to the toilet, or if it had wormed its way down the side of the sofa), I threw my coat in the under stairs cupboard and there on the floor it was. Just, lying next to the Dyson, still all neatly bundled up. My GOD (not that I’m at all religious) was I relieved…if I was ever going to become a believer, I deemed now a suitable time. HOLD ON evangelists – not suitable enough, I’m staying on the believer fence for today, sorry.

 Lessons learned:

  1. Never put money notes in your trouser pockets, yep Jeans could be OK, but anything less than skin-tight, and you could risk the pesky grubby escapee trying to break loose.
  2. As Noel Edmonds would say on Deal or No Deal ‘treat the money with respect’ – weather it is a fiver or five thousand, you’ll be kicking yourself if you get carefree.

    Getting to the bottom of this, I put it down to the cold freezing up my brain.

 So tell me, make me feel better, have you done something similar? Do you need some mama de-icer today?

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Pottyhood Part 2 – Malteser Monster

Maybe I’m speaking too soon, but babe is making brilliant progress with potty training – as she’s not even two yet. Less of the gloating, we are not home and dry yet (getting in my pun early). Not speaking from experience, as I haven’t really got any, I would say that we’re about at the half way house.

Since my last post on this a week ago Brenda the childminder managed to make excellent progress. I wasn’t doing so well with her at home. I was starting to doubt myself…oh she’ll pee in the potty for Brenda but not for me 😦 Then hubby managed to get her to pee in the potty one evening, again not for me 😦

 By the time we got to Friday I’d got her to produce at least once a day in the potty, but still not great. I was feeling the pressure building up as we got to the weekend. It’s down to me (and hubby) to show that we can do this too. I was building it up to be some great thing in my mind…but babe has done me proud. She is doing very well and yesterday got up to six or seven wee’s in the potty – and this was just in the morning and evening when we were home.

Success is in the bribe
Upon Brenda’s recommendation we are bribing her. Yes, I’m afraid so. OK, call me a bad mother, but its working. Every time babe pees or poops in the potty she gets a Malteser. She has developed a real taste for the lovely melt in your mouth honeycomb balls coated in chocolate. I’m convinced she has got wise too, and is now breaking up the pees into lots of small ones so that she can get lots of Maltesers. She’s not even two and has worked out how to be devious and sneaky. Does this bode well for the future? Me thinks not!

We are also using disposable pull-up nappies. I’m not a big fan, you know me, I’m a cloth nappy kinda girl. And they are expensive; luckily the amount of pee in them is getting less and less, so we don’t have to change them so often. I am looking into some washable pull ups, but not really had the time to look very hard (suggestions much appreciated if you have any). What’s the next stage? I haven’t swotted up on potty training at all, and am largely being lead by Brenda the childminder – with 30+ experience I’m not going to argue. Besides its working and isn’t overly stressful, so no need to question it.

But I’m wondering, what’s the next stage? When do take the nappies off all together? Do we then need to trail a potty around everywhere?

From one blog to another: personal to B2B is a toughie

Microphone (MXL 990)

Image by Seven Morris via Flickr

I thought on my entry into the blogosphere, once you had mastered the casual writing style, it would be easy peasy to roll out this technique onto another blog space. I should have known better when hitting a totally new target audience and topic. We recently launched a corporate techie blog at work and the transition hasn’t been as straight forward as I’d assumed.

I  can whack out a post for this blog in about ten minutes…erm can’t you tell? But the corporate B2B world is a totally different kettle of fish. In my work blog I’m addressing middle-aged techie men, who typically wear short trousers and socks with sandals. Hmm, maybe I’m being a bit harsh, but they are very different to you. I’m used to writing to target the B2B largley middle-aged male target audience, but in the formal way, not in a casual more personable manner.

‘Finding your voice’ sounds so corny, but as a blogger it is so true. It took me while here to establish my style, and I’m not totally happy with it yet either. But then, what woman is happy with her appearance, visual or written? Or has Gok Wan got to you and made you feel totally happy with your body image? I think I need the Gok Wan for writing.

On my work’s corporate blog I’m finding it so much harder, with so many more constraints that come with the conservative thinkers. It’s the personality thing that is the hardest, how much do you let show through? And the humourous side, that’s a tougher one – I’m talking to an international audience of men that are largely engineers.

That said, there are some aspects of the corporate blog that I do find easier than this one. Sometimes boundaries are good, they keep you in check, yes constrain you most of the time, but they stop you saying stupid things other times. I often wonder if I get too personal on here, or generally step over the line by being offensive and over opinionated. But I figure – who wants to read the blog of someone who just sits on the fence? Not me, when I’m reading a fellow mummy bloggers blog I like feisty, opinionated witty copy – one that I really love is MammyWoo. You must have a read, she’s good.

Oh by the way, did I mention that you can subsribe to this blog – it’s really easy, just click on the subscribe tab in the right hand column and add your email address details. More followers would be really nice 🙂 Thank you xx

Pottyhood Part 1

Our current phase of parenthood has entered Pottyhood. In other words, we are starting to transition babe from wearing nappies to using the poo pot.

On Sunday I was so proud that babe had managed to ‘produce’ a fine poopey specimen in the pink potty that now gets trailed around the house. We rejoiced in merriment at the wondrous gift that she had neatly delivered to us. And she announced ‘more, more’ in recognition of her efforts.

Babe potty posing

Spurred on by our success, we continued with nappy free time for the next hour or so. This was largely met with a lack in success displayed in the form of lots of pissy patches on the not so cream carpet. But success did return once more that evening in the form of getting an actual pee in the potty – more rejoicing from the rooftops.

Then it went downhill, I should have quit while we were ahead. Monday night we had more nappy off time, instead of peeing in the potty babe held her potty in her arms and took a seat on my left foot. Ah warm at last…but too warm, too nice….argh wet…pee pee wet. The little minky spalinky had peed on my foot! She left me with a sodden sock and soggy trouser bottoms. Ewy yuk.

Somehow I know this is only going to be the start…keep any eye out for Pottyhood part 2 coming soon (no doubt).

Do you forget birthday’s too?

oxymoron via Flickr”]Sarah Palin Birthday Card

Peer into my life, and I’m sure most of yours too, then getting everyone’s birthday card notes to them on time is not on the top of my priorities – sorry but that’s how it is OK?

Well maybe it’s not OK, but it’s tough titty, because it ain’t changing.

My family has always been somewhat relaxed about remembering people’s birthdays. So what if my card is a couple of days late? I’m not about to think that I’ve fallen out a favor, I just conclude that people sometimes have bigger things on their mind. Some of my extended family is not so relaxed and on numerous occasions I have been hauled through the coals for the most minor error of the card being just one day late. For some people it seems like the end of the world, but honestly, let’s look at the bigger picture.

To be truthful, before I had babe I was pretty good. I had them noted on the calendar every year and would keep a pretty good track of things. At the end of 2009 I binned that calendar and forgot to copy the birthdays over. That was the fundamental part of my birthday forgetting demise. So now I have no calendar or book and only a scattered memory of whose birthday is when. Add to that a very busy life.

This post today was inspired after a call to my unlce and his wife at the weekend. I’d forgotten her birthday and she takes this quite seriously. After a five minute grovel, my uncle’s wife explained to me that I should write all the birthdays in a book and then check the book just before I go and do the weekly shopping. It’s actually quite a good idea, I’m thinking now, maybe she would be kind enough to get me one for Christmas and write in all the birthdays as she has such a good handle on these things? I cheekily mentioned to her that I do the weekly shopping on a Thursday night and that she might like to call me mid-day every Thursday to remind me of the birthdays coming up in the week ahead. What I cheek, I’m not sure she heard me say that…thank goodness. It just came out, I couldn’t help myself…

At the same time, perhaps maybe, just maybe, people could cut me a back of slack and look at how many balls I’m trying to keep in the air and be thankful that it’s just their birthday they forgot and not their Christmas card too! Or the fact that they exist at all.

So I’m sorry if I forgot your birthday, your partners birthday, your childs birthday or your wedding anniversary (don’t get me on that one too), please don’t take it personally.

The three mothering muskateers and a puppy called Spud

Cute Dog Puppy

Image by epSos.de via Flickr

Add a labrador puppy to an afternoon with the three mothering musketeers and their side-show nearly two-year olds, and you’ve got yourself one crazy couple of hours.

As a full-time working mother I don’t get a lot of opportunities to catch up with my friends and to watch my little girl interact with other children. Saturday was one of those rare occasions.

Babe and I arrived at my friend’s house to explore the chaos that her new puppy Spud was reigning upon their lives. Credit to the gal, she’d done a fine job of containing the chaos that comes with a new puppy. The only really evident signs were the newspaper strewn kitchen floor and the wet patch in the corner from where the puppy had puked up his little guts just a few minutes before our arrival.

You’ll be familiar with the way these afternoons go. First priorities are tea and cake, must have cake…must have cake…must have…oh you get it anyway. Then it takes the girls time to re-acquaint themselves and then before you know it all hell has let loose. The room (or whole house) is trashed and if you’re not careful world war three might have broken out. We chose our timing carefully, get out while the goings good. Don’t over stay your welcome or things go pear-shaped. Lucky for us the girls didn’t turn on each other at any point during the afternoon, instead they had a common enemy who was in the form of an adorable labrador puppy. To be honest, he wasn’t really the enemy, just a good focal point when ever the atmosphere between the girls started to get a bit too competitive or selfish.

Spud also took the heat off me and my friend who had come to visit with our daughters, who were successfully turning our other friends living room into what looked like a war zone. Spuds jigsaw chewing and tissue tearing detracted from our little girls destruction just nicely.

The crummy kisses goodbye
There are times when you have kids that your heart could just melt. As we got booted and suited (well shoed and coated), I asked babe if she would like to kiss everyone goodbye. She launched towards one of her little pals and planted a great slobbery biscuit crumbed smaker right on the lips. He little friend responded with a big hug, which resulted in one great big three-way hug among the girls. All the while, the three mothering musketeers looked on trying to hold back the tears of pride – ah, that’s our girls. Sniffle sniffle.

You’re a mummy, you’re not aloud to get ill

Echinacea

Image via Wikipedia

My friend has opted to have the optional free flu jab. I loved her response to when her husband asked why….”because I’m a working mum I can’t afford to get ill“.

WAHM, SAHM, regular working mum, it doesn’t make a blind bit of difference, getting properly ill is not an option. Don’t get me wrong, the world will not end without us, but I can guarantee you that chaos would reign. Unless you were hospitalized and there was an army of family drafted in to support, most likely things would definitely fall into disarray or some degree or other. Don’t tell me your one of those super smug ladies who’s OH is a super man about the house? That would make all us mamas feel somewhat green-eyed and sickly *hurls into bucket of envy*.

There is no time to feel sorry for yourself when you’ve got little ones running around demanding to be entertained, fed and have their bottoms wiped.

If you are SAHM (stay at home mum) you get it even tougher. No chance to take a sick day, and pack the children off to childcare. In fact, what do you do? I guess you must have to call on the man of the house to take a day off and somehow try to keep the marauding hoards from your sick-bed.

As we enter the sickly season,  I send you Echinacea infused hugs to keep the illness away.