Posts Tagged ‘laundry’

And That’s What Happened There…

Is it a little late to do a 2014 retrospective? I mean I already mentioned my 2015 goals a few days ago. So I’m kind of going backwards if I look back at last year right? Plus it’s 5th January already…we’re almost a week into the new year. So I guess it’s a little weird and passé and I should have done it in the last week of December. Am I starting to sound like Woody Allen?

No wait…in that last week, a lot of people were busy eating and drinking and being merry. So in a way, it’s better to do it now, as those of you who celebrated Christmas have probably put away the decorations, vowed to go easy on the naughty treats and need something to read before Box Set season kicks in. So actually, I’m doing you a favour right? And in the time it takes to ponder this any more, we could well reach the end of 2015. And then it really will be late.

Dammit Janet. I’m GOING to do a 2014 retrospective. Because I’m crazy like that.

So these were my 2014 highlights and lowlights aka:

And That's What Happened There

 

Seeing an incredible number of friends lose parents. #NoWords

Making beautiful memories in Sweden thanks to a gorgeous friend (she knows who she is). #That’sWhatHubsterSaid

and thats what happened sweden canoe

 

Starting 2014 off the way I meant to go on, by doing 10k on the first day of 2014 after only three hours sleep, running my second half mara way faster than I expected…and then seeing it all slide away as I stopped running for the rest of the year following injury. #I’llBeBackYouJustWatch

Cheeky K starting school and it hitting me like an express train that THAT WAS IT…last one in…the baby years were definitely over and my heart was a bit hurt. #PassTheKleenex

A local beachside café/pizzeria/restaurant opening up down the road and revolutionising our life in Malta. #CantBeatTheSimpleThings

las palmas

 

Having an impromptu evening in London jumping from pub to pub, eating great food and having great chat with my brother and realising it was the first time that just the two of us had ever gone out together ever ever. #TheBestThingsAreWorthWaitingFor

Finding Phunk Investigation’s This Holiday again after losing it nine years ago…only to find it was under our noses all this time when Hubster played a random music game with Musical M (I’ll always remember ‘Put on the cd that’s in the second column from the left, far right stack, eighth cd down and see what it is). #ThankYouForTheMusic

Hubster exclaiming that our marriage had at last been consummated on an alcoholic level because I finally got into vodka. #It’sAllAboutThatMixer

vodkas

 

Classy Bird leaving Malta and hurting my heart a bit. #HateItWhenSheDoesThat

Going on my first ever girls’ trip (totally falling in love with Dubliners) and wondering what on earth I’ve been doing for the last 20 odd years to have never done that before. #IHeartDublinAndMyGirls

Dreamy D finally overcoming his ‘fear of water’ demons #AlwaysKnewYouCouldSon

she's gone Dhru

 

Meeting up with dear friends in the UK including an old university chum I hadn’t seen in 25 years, picking up the banter where we left off and then meeting his wife and feeling like I’d known her for years. #AReasonToLoveLife

Seeing friends faced with tough personal battles and feeling helpless just standing by.  #LifeIsAJourneyWithSomeBadSpeedBumps

Being spoiled by acts of kindness from someone I barely even know. #ThereWasALadyFromDownUnder

Finally going on the London Eye thanks to my generous parents and brother. #ItsAboutTimeWoman

london eye side

 

A good friend of mine showing that underneath that well manicured seemingly middle class polished exterior, there’s just a good old regular working class girl who isn’t too proud to try on a lingerie set over her clothes in THAT store which shan’t be named. #MarvellousMarilyn

Playing chess for the first time and loving it. #SayCheckmateOneMoreTimeAndWe’reDone

chess

 

A certain young lady turning 10 and my heart (and maybe Hubster’s too?) aching a bit at how quickly it came round. #ItGoesByFast

and thats what happened there MandP

 

And a certain other someone turning 50…OH MY GAWD! #WasntMe

prash 50th us 2

 

It was a year filled with laughter, tears and love with good friends, kiddie milestones, great Summer memories, a bit of a hurty heart, runners’ frustration and sadness at not seeing my parents enough because of the miles between us.  (Okay, yes, chocolate, wine and vodka made more than an occasional brief appearance but a girl’s gotta live.)

So that’s what happened there.

Right, 2015…what you got for me girl?

Well, I mean…

thats-what-happened-laundry

 

 

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Why It Never Pays To Be A Smug Mother

Why it never pays to be a smug mother

Last night my children – all three – said “mummy we don’t want to watch TV, we want to draw”. I stared at them, barely able to understand the words coming out of their mouths.

This evening, they asked me to put on my favourite classical music piece while they did their homework. I swear, I almost fist pumped the air in smug admiration of what are surely the results of my own amazing parenting skills (remember, if  you’re new here, sarcasm is served up in LARGE doses). Then, still basking in the warm glow of my own fabulous mummy-ness, I absent-mindedly came a centimetre close to pouring the cheese sauce I’d prepared for tonight’s lasagne (the cooking of which I had to psyche myself up for in the first place because I’d rather give birth to triplets than go through the arse ache of making a lasagne) straight into the bowl of batter I’d made for my brand new waffle machine (the purchase of which is the absolute highlight of my month…seriously, it’s actually slightly disturbing how in love I am with this new gadget). Oh and then I realised I’d forgotten to hang that laundry load out again. And poof! Just like that. The smugness was gone.

It made me think this is not entirely new: feeling like I’m getting it right only to realise I’m so not.

There’s the time I dropped Dreamy D off at school, beaming at his teacher because I KNEW I’d remembered everything this time: the school trip money, the homework, the PE clothes, the spelling test. Let’s bear in mind this was during a period when hubster was away for two months in a row in California, only coming back to see us for one week at a time, so quite honestly it was a miracle I was still sane/able to remember my own name/not in need of heavy sedation, never mind anything else. I triumphantly declared D had everything, only for his teacher to say ”Did you remember his library book?”.

I can now relate to the phrase ‘her face fell’.

My face fell.

At which point, D’s teacher followed this up with “Oh bless, shall I move in with you?”  (Straight up. No word of lie.)

There’s the time I got us all out the door on time for a birthday party…oh mercy me…ON TIME…smart clothes on, bows neatly tied, not a smudge of Weetabix on the cheeks (mine I mean), gift beautifully wrapped (heck, the kids had even made a home-made card for the birthday princess) and so on. You know, the sad thing is there are friends of mine who will read this and not believe I was on time. We arrived, parked, got out of the car (anyone reading this who doesn’t have kids is wondering why I feel the need to specify that we got out the car; anyone who does have kids knows it’s an effing mission getting them all out of a car in under thirty seconds so it jolly well deserves a mention), schlepped up to the house, rang the bell, rang it again, paced around, huffed and puffed a few times, called my friend, found out I was at the wrong house, walked back to the car, got them all back in the car, endured a thousand berLUDDY questions from three confused kids…you get the picture. At least this is only half as useless as the time I did the whole get-them-out-the-house-bows-and-all thing and turned up at the birthday kid’s house on the wrong day. KL, I lower my head in defeat. You were right the other day: I’m not the most vigilant.

There’s the time my tennis instructor paid me a series of amazing compliments saying I’d made the most incredible progress, only for me to turn up the following week for my lesson and play like a total twat who’d never seen a racquet in her life.

But you know what? For a few minutes this evening, my family thought I ROCKED! Yes folks, I did just use capital letters, italics and an exclamation mark just then….I know…I’m living on the edge. Just let me enjoy a few moments of feeling smug though. Why? Because I fed mia famiglia THE vegetarian lasagne to beat ALL veggie lasagnes that ever went before (no we’re not vegetarians but I’m not overly wild about giving my kids red meat) followed up by waffles for dessert, made in aforementioned brand new waffle maker. Talking of which, sorry can’t help it. Here’s a pic of my new best friend. It is absolutely no different from any waffle machine you’ll have seen before but please say hello. I think I’ll call it Freddie.

waffle machine

It’s totally and utterly brilliant that women finally moved out of the kitchen and away from the ironing board several decades ago to start achieving greatness and amazing careers of their own. So it’s probably a sad state of affairs when this feminist chick sits at the table in the year 2014 mentally high-fiving herself when her husband, who is not usually easily impressed or particularly demonstrative at the best of times (and no honey I’m not having a dig and I love you loads but I think you were more excited over tonight’s lasagne  than the birth of our first child) exclaims more than a few times that she has just made the best lasagne ever.

I still feel smug though. Sue me.

10 Signs of The Scatty Mama

frazzled momI’m a scatty Mama.

There, I’ve said it.  I wish I wasn’t. But then I guess there was never much hope that the girl who was a confirmed absent-minded daydreamer in her childhood/youth would grow up (using the term ‘grow’ very loosely here as I can just about make it to 4foot 3 in heels and hairspray) to be one of those uber-organised supermums (you know, the ones who get up at 5 a.m. to bake their own bread, have made an assortment of breakfast items by 7 am that would rival the buffet at a five star Hotel and who’ve planned the entire refurb of their kitchen on an A3 sketch pad by 8am).

Here’s how to tell if you’re a fellow scatty mama:

You:

  1. regularly leave your housekeys in the front door
  2. ditto your phone in the car
  3. ditto your wallet in a different bag from the one you have with you
  4. have fetched one child from school and got in the car before remembering the other one
  5. forget to go grocery shopping or leave your groceries in the supermarket carpark
  6. repeatedly turn up at the supermarket without the shopping list (assuming you actually make a list…)
  7. often turn up at the gym without your gym kit (assuming you go to the gym ‘often’ but who am I to judge?)
  8. have actually managed to LOSE a baby buggy
  9. end up rewashing laundry, that you forget to hang out, so often that you wonder if you are actually any use to your family
  10. have been known to drive off with a car door open

Don’t worry.  If you recognise yourself in some of the above and are feeling a bit deflated, let me ask you this: Have you thrown your kid out of the buggy because you forgot to close the straps?…

No?

Well, I have. So you can relax because I just made you feel like the BEST mother in the world.

You’re welcome.