Notes from suburbia

I'm feeling pleased with myself today.  Having given a new lease of life to this: It's a Welsh Dresser.  In two pieces on the floor.  One of the doors has had it's first coat of paint. I stumbled across this dresser accidentally.  The last thing we need in our house is more furniture so I wasn't looking (promise!).  Sometimes things find us though, don't you think?  Like puppies.  And Cats.  And Welsh Dressers?!  The Baby and I were out on one of our afternoon strolls in the sunshine.  There we were, minding our own business - me, thinking, The Baby, sleeping- making our way around the usual circuit where I seek out the quiter roads so that there is more chance of The (light sleeping) Baby staying in his slumber for longer. I had passed the house with the for sale sign in the garden many times before.  The house, now sold, had a skip on the driveway.  I stopped for a...

The Eight Year Old suggested we use this photo so knock yourselves out people by coming up with a caption for this which was captured during our last supermarket shopping expedition: Captions in the comments box below please! For more Saturday Caption fun get yourselves over to Mammasaurus blog by clicking here. 

The one where The Eight Year Old tidies his bedroom... The Eight Year Old:  " Mummy, I'm tidying my bedroom". Me:  " Wow.  Really? Fantastic" . The Eight Year Old:  " I haven't finished. It's quite messy at the  minute". Me:  "Well, it can often get worse before it gets better when it comes to tidying". The Eight Year Old:  "Yes. I'm sorting all my books out on the shelf. Like a library.  So you can find the book you want easier.  So I had to take everything off the shelves first".   Me:  "Ok". The Eight Year Old:   "Do you want to come up and see?" Me:  " Yes, why not". The Eight Year Old  " Remember it's not finished though". As we approach The Eight Year Old's bedroom door, the cardboard skeleton that hangs there looks on mockingly... The Eight Year Old:  "It's not finished remember so  I've made a little walk-way through so that I can get int...

In this weeks ArtIHeart link up with Midlife Singlemum (pop over there to see more art!) I present to you a painting which was given to me as a present by one of The (very special) Friends, by way of marking my 40th birthday (yes, I'm still bleating on about being 40!). The painting is the work of my friends Dad, the one and only, very talented, Peter Drury. I love Peter's work because it is witty and clever as well as being beautifully painted. This piece pictures Audry Hepburn - who I've always had a bit of a 'thing' about - as she appears iconically in Breakfast at Tifanny's.  Only here, she just so happens to be crossing the road in my home city. Brilliant! To see more of Peter Drury's work you can go to his upcoming exhibition:- Icons & Legends Art Exhibition Wednesday, April 4, 2012 at 11:00 AM - Sunday, April 8, 2012 at 8:00 PM (PT) London, United Kingdom “People make icons…Death makes legends” "Icons and legends remain and endur...

The Eight Year Old:  "I know of three jobs I'd like to do when I'm a grown-up" Me:  "Tell me more" The Eight Year Old:  "Scientist.  Photographer.  Bank Manager" Me:  "That's quite a range.  Are you aware of how a Bank Manager spends his time each day?  I think there'd be a lot of time spent in an offfice and in meetings" -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The next day... The Eight Year Old:  "I've got three jobs I'd like to do when I grow up" Me: "And what are those?" The Eight Year Old:  "Scientist.  Photographer.  Chocolate maker - like Willy Wonka".

So what's fabulous this week?  It has to be this:- A fantastic new play by theatre company Clever as Clever, a member of whom is one of my very good friends - the bestest - Kamaal Hussain (aka 'Fool'). I'm sad that I can't get to see the production due to currently being pretty much tied to The Baby who is still refusing to drink milk from anything but me.  And so instead, I advice anyone who is reading this to do themselves a favour, take a trip into 'Fancy London Town' to see this fabulous play which is receiving amazing reviews!

Do you ever get the feeling that you don't really know where you fit in?  I've had that feeling on and off throughout my life.  Sometimes it's been an uncomfortable feeling - during the teenage years at school for example when it didn't always feel easy to slot into a particular group.  Or at various workplaces when my face just didn't seem to fit-in with the 'in-crowd'.  At other times I relish the feeling of being a bit different from what may be expected even if this does mean that people don't always seem to know what to do with me, where to place me, not quite being able to work out who I am.  I also love that I am now in a happy and confident place surrounded by a whole bunch of random lovelies, all misfits in their own special way. I therefore found it to be quite unexpected to be feeling as if I needed to fit-in in a new situation quite recently.   This new misfit feeling began when I started blogging.  I didn't set out ...

At seven and a half months old, The Baby suddenly seems a lot stronger and much more active.  His occasional roll, which took a lot of effort, is now performed regularly with ease as he manouvers his way across the living room floor in search of anything that isn't a safe toy that belongs to him. We're at the stage where it feels too risky to leave the room, even for a minute, after carefully placing down on his playmat for fear of him headbutting the fireplace or some other hard and potentially damaging object, at the other end of the room. The Baby is also putting his two teeth to good use in trying to chew anything and everything.  He is incredibly strong in his legs and is also making attempts to pull himself up to sitting, getting cross when his attempts don't quite pay off.. He is becoming increasingly choosy of who he wants to spend time with and is starting to become quite demanding if The Husband, The Eight Year Old or me leave...

In the UK today it is officially the first day of Spring. And happily, the weather has really been playing along with this specified date.  The Baby and I ventured out for a walk in the sunshine this morning, capturing a few images of spring along the way...  So there you have it.  The sky is blue, the cherry blossom is a-blossoming, the daffs are in full flower  - but then we knew that because it's been Mothers Day already and it's the law that daffodils have to be flowering for then.  I even had to reomove my jacket today.  As I'm usually the coldest person in the room at any given time then it must have been seriously warm-ish. It's official people.  Spring has sprung!

Me and The Husband have been discussing potential (low key) plans for The Baby's first birthday - it's still five months away (yes, I agree, ridiculous conversation to be having to have this far in advance) but it clashes with other family celebrations currently in the planning, hence this alamingly premature chat.  The Eight Year Old has been busily, and loudly, playing with Batman Lego - imagine full scale Bat-war. The Eight Year Old - "Get him! said Riddler.  Did someone say cake?"

After a couple of non-fabulous-friday weeks where the time has escaped me and I have failed to flag-up the fabulous, I am today, finding that I have too much fabulousness to choose from. Do I go with the beautiful and genius 'sewing free' blankets which were handmade for The Baby and The Eight Year Old by my two creative and thoughtful Sisters-in-law who gave them to us last weekend? Or do I choose my goregeous nephew who has been visiting from America?  At eighteen months he is just adorable and has been making us giggle with the way he copies words - there's been a lot of "oooops" after the many tumbles and bumps that accompany toddler-dom.  There have also been lots of cheeky smiles and it's been lovely getting to know him better. Or do I choose the family time we enjoyed  last weekend.   These times with the (US) Sister-in-law (usually along with her husband who couldn't make the trip this time around and was greatly missed) and our...

The Husband, watching the tv quiz show The Chase and answering a question about 'bones' correctly: "I knew doing this course would pay off!"  He's currently studying to become a Radiographer. Me: "Terrific.  Remind me of that when we're surviving on baked beans for the next few years...at least we'll know the answers to 'bone questions' on tv quiz shows".

My second week in the ArtIHeart link up with Midlife Singlemum Blog. This picture hangs on a wall in the corridor between our hallway and kitchen.  The artists are The Eight Year Old - at the time he was The Five Year Old - and The Husband.  They sat and drew his picture when we were on the train heading to Windsor and, more importantly, to Legoland for the first time!  It was our first overnight trip as a family of three (before The Baby was even a thought in our minds)  .  The picture, for me, holds all the fun of that trip and all the optimism of our future together. Want to see more art?  Pop yousrself over to Midlife Singlemum's blog by clicking here .

Over the weekend I was mainly:-  in the company of my gorgeous nephew and his mum (The (US) sister-in-law); my (UK)Sister-in-law - who had found us a great place to stay and did a brilliant job of getting us organised on the food front; her husband - who was chief washer-upper and breakfast cook my mother and father in law (who were, for once able to relax and take it easy) The Husband, The Baby and The Eight Year Old celebrating the 40th wedding anniversay of The Mother -in-law and Father-in-law .(the first of a few celebrations of the event over the next few months - we're a family who like to party! enjoying lots of delicious homecooked food making the most of the early spring sunshine on a walk around a beautiful resevoir that I can't remember the name of taking long hot showers and using the loo willy-nilly whenever the need took me. Confused?  Read this   eating cake thinking how lucky I am to have The Husband in my life - I s...

If you are one of the select few avid readers of this blog - and , may I add, what a discerning bunch you are people  ;)  - then you may well be aware that me and The Baby are currently spending a large part of our days camped out in the living room so as not to interfere with the extensive work of the two plumbers/bathroom-fitters-extroidinare who are in our house fitting a shower room and refitting our bathroom (on a budget....apparently).  The work was due to take about a week but, unforseen complications - asbestos shelving and weird previous pipework, not to mention falling down walls - have caused this job to now be stretching well into week two.  In reality it's looking as if we'll be lucky if it is complete by the end of week two - which is Wednesday lunchtime of next week so watch this space. Throughout this experience so far, here is what I have learnt: 1.  It is possible to cross your legs and hold in that desperate wee for longer...

For the past year there has been another woman in The Eight Year Old's life.  He talks about her often.  He spends almost as much time with her as he does with me.  They go on day trips and holidays together, she cooks for him, helps him with his homework, they talk about stuff.  She plays a major role in his life.  He likes her a lot. I've never met this woman. We've spoken on the phone a few times though.  She seems nice.  Sensible, but fun. A good influence. For years, I've wondered how I would respond when the day came along that The Eight Year Old's Dad met someone who he would have a serious relationship with.  Someone who would live with my son during the times he is away from me.  How would I feel?  Would I be jealous? Would I feel threatened? As it turns out, I feel relieved.  Relieved that my son likes this woman as much as he does.  I'm glad that she's havi...

Me - "Do you have much homework to do?  Do we need to practise tables? 3, 6, 9, 12, 15..." The Eight Year Old - "Did you ever notice that Lego people don't have noses?" The Husband looks on grinning.

Arriving at 9pm one balmy August evening we discovered the Roman City of Nimes in South West France had a real buzz about it. Failure to pre-book accommodation was a mistake. A quick hike around the city confirmed that steeped in art and culture it may be, but there were no rooms free. There were also no trains departing until 7am the next morning. The floor of the station didn't provide the best nights sleep a girl could hope for. _________________________________ This is a link up with SAHDANDPROUD where you will find lots of other fabulous destinations summed up in 80 words - I can't be sure the link is still open as it's not working for me...it may be that everyone else has given up and gone home leaving us travelling alone.  Either way, I like it so we may just carry on regardless!

This is part of the " Art I Heart " link up over at  Midlife Singlemum blog.   Aplogies to Midlife Singlemum before I say this but to be completely honest I cringe a little bit at the use of 'heart" instead of love - whenever it used, not just in this instance.  I'm not sure why but it's one of those things that makes my toes curl up a little.  However, on this occasion I choose to overlook my toe curling because I really like the idea of sharing, in the words of Midlife Singlemum, " the art you love from your walls, a birthday card, what your child drew at school, that you saw in The National Gallery in London..."   I really like the bredth of the notion of what art is rather than being all 'sniffy sniffy' about it as can often be the way in the art world - or at least it seems to be the way in some of the glimses of the art world I've encountered.  Also, the walls of our home are heaving with works of art with personal meaning at...

Me (standing in the kitchen calling to the plumber who is stood in the hallway by the front door) - "Do you know there's water currently dripping through the kitchen ceiling?" Plumber - "Yes" Silence before I hear the plumber going up the stairs. Is that it? Is a 'yes' all we get?  No explanation. No reassurance.  And why aren't I asking for futher informatiion?  I am outnumbered 2 to 1 by plumbers, too intimidated in my own home to ask a futile water leaking question.  Me and The Baby make a swift retreat to hide out in the living room trying to pretend none of this is happening.  I remind myself that it will all be worth it once we have a new shower room and bathroom.

We're currently having our bathroom refitted and a shower room installed.  We're working to a tight and relativey small budget.  The plumber - "Can I have a word" Me - "Of course" The plumber - "Now don't panic when I tell you this" Me (begining to panic and imagining they've uncovered human remains under the floorboards) - "OK" The plumber - "We've found asbestos lining the shelf where the old watertank sat" Me - "I see" The plumber - "We need to send it for testing before it can be removed.  If it's the 'not too bad' sort it'll cost around £500 to remove it" Me - "How much???!" The plumber - "And if it's the bad sort it'll be more like £1000" I go pale and smile weakly.  We are now waiting for the test results.  At least we're not waiting for a police investigation.  Every cloud and all that...

Yesterday I was talking about how as parents we often seem keener to share either the horror stories - "look how hard we had it" - or a picture of 'perfect family life' - 'we're so good and capable and brilliant that we found all to be just wonderful" - when we are talking to other parents and no more so than when we are talking to expectant parents as we relish our role as the 'font of all knowledge'. When we were away last weekend with two of The Friends who are expecting their first child in three months time, we got to talking about what to expect from the first few weeks after the baby is born.  They have been told time and time again from other parents about how 'hard' this time will be.  Is this an accuarate description though?  Is it 'hard'? What does 'hard' mean?  The vagueness of the description together with it's negative implications don't exactly provide a helpful picture to someone who is bracing the...

Last weekend we spent a lovely couple of days staying with some of The Friends on the Norfolk Coast.  One of the couples are expecting their first baby in three months time.  We were there with The (seven month old) Baby and The Eight Year Old and another couple with their son who is 15 months.  As you would imagine, there was more than a little talk of pregnancy and parenting and it got me thinking about the stories us parents like to share - and the bits we choose not too. Parenting stories, more often than not, fall into one of two categories.  Horror stories or 'perfect world' accounts of family life.  It starts with pregnancy and childbirth.  Have you ever noticed how it seems to be human nature to compete with each other when sharing stories of illness or injuries we've encountered?  There seems to be nothing we like more than to provide all the graphic details of our suffering.  Well, pregnancy and childbirth...