Notes from suburbia

I'm sharing this with those of you who have been privy to my thoughts and concerns about returning to work to a job I haven't done before - long story...should you wish to, you could read about it here ,  here , and here . Well.  Don't go telling anyone.  But, I went into work again today for a couple of hours (I'm returning 'proper' in a couple of weeks time).  And.  I almost.  Very nearly. Enjoyed it.  :o Sssshhhh...don't tell anyone. It's just between us. After all, I wouldn't want to pass up the opportunity of sympathy and martyrdom would I ;)

You may have noticed that posting on this blog is a liitle thinner on the ground of late than it has been in previous times.  Life is picking up speed and feeling busier right now, mainly in a good way.  That, and the fact that the sun is shining which always reduces tthe desire to sit indoors tapping away on the lap top - and sitting outdoors tapping away on the laptop whilst being blinded by the glare is really no fun by anyones standards. I am in my final two weeks of maternity leave before I head back to work.  I still have mixed feelings about this butI  am mostly reconcilled to the idea now.  I went in to work last week for a couple of hours, and am aimung to do the same this week.  By doing so,  I've realised there are personal benefits beyond those of earning cash and being able to pay our bills over the coming months.  By going to work I get to wear clothes that are less than baby friendly.  I can wear ...

Me and The Eight Year Old recently baked cup-cakes for 'Bun Day' (yes really, a 'bun day' every week, be jealous, I am!!) at school... Me: "So then, what toppings are you going for?  Chocolate sprinkles? 100's and 1000's? Sugar stars?  Silver balls?  You could do each one different maybe?" The Eight Year Old:  "Actually, I'm going for a multi-media approach". *proceeds to put anything and everything on each cake*

Most of the time I'm more of a 'glass half full type o'gal' than 'a glass half empty' sort.  Occasionally though, something happens that just seems to pull the rug from beneath your feet and makes you realise that no matter how good some (many) aspects of your life are, there are some things that will always cause you pain and hurt. I'm not talking about the small stuff here.  Or even the medium stuff.  I'm talking about the big stuff.  The stuff that deeply affects your life, for the rest of your life, from the moment it hits you. Serious illness.  Loss. Grief. Most of us have been touched by these things in one way or another.  To a greater or lesser extent. Grief is a funny one.   It's not only the obvious things that can cause us to grieve.  Sometimes grief can take us by surprise.    Grief for the life you once had.  Grief for the life you perhaps thought you would have.  I have spoken befor...

Me: "I've just been doing some decorating with The Baby strapped to me in the Baby Bjorn carrier :) " The Husband: "By decorating you mean moving a vase of flowers and some small pictures don't you?! Crazy woman!" Me:  "Erm...yes....of course!!"   *...scrunches face up as hurriedly walks off to bathroom (baby still attached) to hide the huge vat of paint and to clean up both self and baby who appear to have more paint on them than the wall does...*

With Julia -, the mighty fine host of the wonder that is the "100 word challenge " - on her travels in New York, this weeks (5 word) prompt is rather fitting:- "LIBERTY  EMPIRE  APPLE  YELLOW  ENORMOUS" I contemplated these words with iconic images of New York in my mind...the elegant sophistication of the Manhattan brownstone houses...the bright yellow taxis...the earthiness of the Bronx...the grandeur of Brooklyn Bridge  And then I dismissed all of those images and wrote these 100 (toungue-in-cheek) words instead.... _______________________________________________________ Put simply, Liberty loved it at Empire.   It was the best club in town.   It was enormous.   And that dance floor…bright zingy yellow and deep apple green flashing squares that seemed to bounce as you stepped on to them. A couple (of gallons) of mojitos and the world of Empire was her oyster.   All eyes would be on her.  ...

The night before the interview I discover the trousers I am planning to wear the next day are:-  a) a little on the snug side, and b) almost threadbare.  Not really the interview look I am aiming for.  Over to the the back-up plan - the smart black dress.  Which of course, the following morning I have to hastily mend with the life saver that is 'wonder-web' after pulling a loose thread hanging from the hem.  Not the best start to interview day.  However, a final read of my notes and I'm out of the house. Sat on the bus, my mind begins to wander...after being off work for the past year I begin to doubt if I'm still capable of holding a work based conversation let alone survive an interview. Half an hour later, I'm sat alone in a room in front of a lap-top doing what turns out to be quite a challenging 'intray exercise'.  After sitting like a rabbit caught in the headlights for a few minutes i launch into action...

Me to The Eight Year Old as we sit looking through photos on the laptop...  "Oooh The Baby looks like his Dad there doesn't he?" The Eight Year Old:  "..eeerrmmm...." Me:  "I can finally see it now, he definitely has a look of his Daddy in this picture" The Eight Year Old:  "Yes.  Maybe.  But without the beard I'd say".

She couldn't pinpoint when it had started.   She suspected it had been going on for a long time before she had become aware of its existence.   It seemed to have crept up on her slowly.   Insidiously.   Stealing away from her, the ease of movement she had previously taken for granted.   Subtly twisting and knotting the bones at their joints.   The arthritis was invading her.   Taking away her freedom.   Freedom to enjoy her life in quite the same way she had before.   The pain, she could cope with.   The slowing effect on her body, she hated. It made her feel old. _____________________________ This weeks '100 word challenge' prompt was this photo:- It is a photo of old bones - an exhibit in the National Museum of Scotland in their ‘prehistoric’ section. Don't forget to hop on over to 'Julia's Place' to see more entries.

I haven't linked up with Midlife Singlemum's ArtIHeart for a couple of weeks.  I don't know why.  Sometimes time escapes me...and we have been busy enjoying ourselves on holiday and the like recently :) Last weeky I shared with you some photos of our holiday to Norfolk.  Here's one picture I didn't share... This picture - my offering for this weeks ArtIHeart - was displayed in the house we stayed in whilst on holiday.  It's made up of what we like to call 'beach treasure'.  It may not be the most refined work of art but I like it's quirkiness.  It makes me think about the fun the artist must have had in collecting their materials to make the collage.  We decided to follow suit and collected our own beach treasures.  Unfortunately we had to take the Starfish carcess back to the beach as he stunk the car out!! We are yet to make our picture, but rest assured that once we have, you will be invited to the viewi...

"Daisy? Lilly? Iris? Rose?"   "No. What's with the obsession with flowers?" "Meg?   Polly?" "For a pet maybe." "Coco?   Olive?   Saffron? Peach?" "We’re not going to eat her" "Florence?   Paris?   India?"   "As a holiday destinations maybe" " Mabel?   Betty?" "Too old fashioned". "Zara? Xena?" "Too modern". "Suri?" "No." "Eve? Grace?" " Too religious." "Pearl?" "Seriously?" "Julie?   Sarah?   Angela?" "Sorry, did I miss the moment when we were transported back to the 1970’s?" "Milly?" "With the surname Millington?" "You come up with a suggestion then!" "Ruby?" "Ruby" "Ruby Millington" "Ruby Millington" ...

It is five weeks and five days until the end of my maternity leave.  The luxury of spending each and every day with The Baby is about to end.  Time is running out. My mind has suddenly become very focused on making the most of these free and easy (?) days.  Soon, I won't be able to set the pace and decide on what we shall be doing each day, changing our plans as the fancy takes me. "How are you feeling about going back to work?" is the question I am being asked increasingly frequently. I have mixed feelings.  I shall, of course, miss The Baby.  It will be hard to leave him even though it will only be for two and a half days a week. I'm also a bit anxious about how he will be without me. He currently refuses to accept a bottle or cup, only happy to drink from the breast as and when he chooses.  Thankfully he has a healthy appetite for solids now so I guess he can snack in between his meal to ensure he do...

Tidying up yesterday I finally decided to tackle the mystery of the empty milk carton.  The milk carton in question had been sat on the stairs for a couple of days, along with other items that had gathered there, presumably ready to be taken up and put away.  I say presumably because I'd been chipping away at the items taking a few things with me each time I went upstairs for the previous couple of days but they had, apparently, become invisible to The Husband and The Eight Year Old. Me to The Husband: "Do you know why this empty milk carton is on the stairs?" The Husband (slightly sheepishly):  "Oh yeah, I was going to take it out to the recycling" Me: "...two days ago?!"   The Husband: " Ok. So I may not be the tidiest person in the world but we must remember that I am very good at a lot of other things" Me: "...and that is why we are able to live together in spite of the milk cartons in this relationship".

The week before last, we were on holiday in one of favourite areas of the UK, Norfolk.  More precisely, we were on holiay in NORTH Norfolk.  I feel the need to clarify this as we were constantly reminded of the 'northern' aspect of our location - by shop signs and advertising everywhere - as demonstrated here: The 'largest' claim makes me smile.  We also encountered a theatre with the 'smallest stage' and a swimming pool with the 'warmest water'. All in NORTH Norfolk.  Obviously. We do not know how this compares to the South of the region :) Despite the chilly, and at times drizzly, weather we had a really great holiday.  We stayed in a very nice house overlooking the sea in Sheringham.  One of The (best) Friends joined us for a couple of days, as did The In-Laws.  It was a nice mix, sharing some of the holiday and having the rest of the time to ourselves. We spent a couple of days on one of my favouite UK bea...

Today I have given The Baby his first haircut. Something had to be done as his fringe was getting in his eyes.  I have been puting off doing the deed as I knew it would be a battle.  At nine months old, The Baby never stops moving so it was never going to be easy. I secured him in his Bebe Pod  which, for those who are not in the know is a brilliant seat which can be used on the floor or attached to a chair.  After piling up a variety of toys in front of him in a bid to distract him from the task in hand I quickly got to work. It went ok... ish.  In the first sitting I managed to trim the front and one side. And it was only a bit jaggedy. There wasn't much time as he soon becomes more interested in the scissors than he is in his toys.   I've just had another go and it's looking much better now.  It's funny though.  With the new haircut he looks older. It reminds me of how quickly he is growing, these baby-days will be shor...

Actually, it's an award.  There is no trophy, but I do get this badge. The Versatile Blogger Award is given by one blogger to another.  I like it.  It's a way of acknowledging blogs we enjoy and admire.  And it's really very nice to be acknowledged by a fellow blogger. I was given my badge of blogging lovliness by a woman who lives in Shackleford and is mad about dogs.  Quite fitting then that she goes by the name of  'Mad dog woman of Shackleford '.  You can read lots of good stuff on her blog by clicking here. In order to accept this badge of blogging honour, before passing on the award to some blogging people out there that I am partial to, I am required to share with you seven facts about me.  We've been here before - in 'facts about me' land - when I shared these 12 facts about me .  Here's the next instalment:- I - along with The Husband - am a failing allotmenteer.  We are...

Me - to the Eight Year old whilst walking through a North Norfolk town in search of breakfast one day last week:  "What, given the choice, would you chose to have for breakfast if you could have anything right now?" The Eight Year Old:  "Mummy, at the minute, I'm so hungry I could eat anything". Sometimes I wonder I wonder which one of us is the 'grown up'.            

We're back home from a weeks holiday in Norfolk. Having got in about an hour ago, the house, once again, looks as if it has imploded.  Suitcases, toys, carrier bags and random food items adorn every available surface. We had a great holiday- more about that next time - but it's always good to be back home isn't it, relaxing after the journey and soaking up all that is familiar. I'm sat here tapping away on the laptop. It's proving to be quite a challenge given that the spacebar is now broken and sticking - mysterious really since is was fine before we went away.  It joins the dodgy 'n' in it's mission to make typing-life tricky. For some reason, as yet unknown, I am declining to use the new laptop that is yet to develop it's own flaws.  The Eight Year Old and The Husband have set about making up the 1000 piece 3D jigsaw (yes, really) that was purchased during our holiday for cost of £2.50 from a charity shop.  G...

So.  On Wednesday, we - The Husband, The Baby and me - were in town.  We were there to collect The Eight Year Old who had been to the theatre with his friend to see a production of Swallows and Amazons.  That boy really does enjoy a better social life than me!! As we were in town we took advantage of the situation and took ourselves off to meet a couple of The Friends for a leisurely coffee. The Baby was very well behaved for the hour and a half  whilst we were in the coffee shop.  I think this gave us the confidence to make a decision we would probably never had made had we been at home.  The decision to go to dinner, with The Baby and The Eight Year Old, to a 'fancy' Italian restaurant. ' Earlier in the day we passed by the restaurant, a relatively new addition to it's current location in the City Centre, and the seed of the idea of eating there (instead our original idea of going to a chain like Pizza Express) was planted.  We had checked...

I have spoken before about Parents Evening at The Eight Year Old's School.  It happens once each term.  That's three times in each academic year.  Just before the Easter Holidays began me and The Husband were up at school for the latest update on The Eight Year Old's progress. The Eight Year Old's class teacher:  "He's really quite witty isn't he?" ...was the opening line of our conversation. Me:  "Yes, he certainly has his moments". As was confirmed later when we looked through his books and came across this...