The End

Well we made it through 30 posts and 30 days once again to the end of NaBloPoMo, so, I think, a break is in order.

Back soon.

Tag, you're it.

The Count has slept through the past two nights, the FB on the otherhand has not. I feel like I'm in the middle of a tag wresting team. Look at them trying to look innocent and that they weren't discussing strategies until I walked back into the room!
Why, by the way, can I click on and enlarge some of my photos and not others. Is it random?


Learnt a very valuable lesson today. Always make 1oo% sure that there is not a disposable nappy hiding in your dirty laundry just waiting to go into the washing machine. Otherwise it looks like a blizzard has blown up all over your clean, wet clothes.

The Countdown begins

Three more posts to go. It has been very hard over the past week to write anything and the temptation to jack the whole thing in, blog and NoBloPoMo has been quite strong. The FB has had yet another cold and the Count is still not sleeping, so by yesterday I was so shattered I could barely string a sentence together. Today, fortunately, things are much better. Still I'm really looking forward to the end of November.
My parents' visit was a great success. The meal out, as I posted briefly was fantastic. MrV's company had ordered him to take me out for a meal to thank him for all his hard work, and he was allowed to spend up to £100. After a great deal of selfsacrifice on our part, having to order course after course as well as rather a lot of booze (including a lovely rosè wine) we managed it.
Of course the best thing was being able to go out for a meal by ourselves and converse. The FB is rather hyper at preset so talking is practically impossible while he is awake.
Monday was the Tutankhamon exhibition at the Dome. The Count slept his way around it, and the FB? He was so happy to be able to wear headphones (we had an audio tour) and listen to someone talking, that he was fabulous the whole way round. Perhaps this is the way forward? Maybe if I need to get him to tidy his toys away I should tape record myself asking him to do, and invest in a walkman.
And yesterday they went home again. My mother has since been on the phone trying to book tickets to the other massive exhibition currently in London - The Terracotta Army, but alas it seems as if all the tickets have gone. Ah well

Day out (with the Egyptians)

The reason for yesterday's trip into town was to visit here

The Millenium Dome, or as it is now called The O2.

And the reason for our trip?

Alas no photos from within the Exhibition as understandably considering the age of the exhibits, photography is banned. But wow! Well worth the convoluted trip home.

Back tomorrow

Stupid me. I forgot to look at the train times before going into town today and arrived at the trainstation 20 minutes after the last train to the nearest station had left (not that this stopped them from selling me a ticket for it). After a long circular journey round most of South London we got home. Shattered.
Back tomorrow

On the tiles

Night out last night to a restaurant in Wimbledon Village. Lovely meal, excellent wine, fabulous company. So nice to be able to have a meal with adult conversation and without having to ensure that a certain little bottom remains on its seat and not slide off under the table.
The Count slept through for the third time in the last 6 weeks but his big brother was up instead with a sore throat.
Today, walks in the park as the weather moves slowly but surely out of autumn and onto winter.

Isabelle's bookmeme

Hardcover or paperback, and why?
Paperback – they fit easier into my bag although admittedly this was only a consideration when I was working and needed a book to read during the commute to Canary Wharf. Cookbooks though should always be hardback.

If I were to own a book shop , I would call it….
I don’t want to own a bookshop. I just want people to give me books for free.

My favourite quote from a book (mention the title) is…
Every time a favourite quote question appears in a meme I forget my favourite quote. So this one will have to do “ The sky above the port was the color of television tuned to a dead channel” (Neuromancer, William Gibson).

The author (alive or deceased) I would love to have lunch with would be… Alexander McCall Smith.

If I was going to a deserted island and could only bring one book, except for the SASsurvival guide, it would be…
It would have to be something that would survive rereading over and over so perhaps The Encyclopaedia Britannica in all x volumes. The sections not currently being read could be put to use as some sort of shelter.

I would love someone to invent a bookish gadget that…
would let me read a book while feeding the Count. I suppose growing an extra pair of arms would do the job but that seems like such hard work.

The smell of an old book reminds me of… the cupboard under the window in the spare room at my grandparents’ home. My grandmother had filled it with all sorts of old hardback children’s books and I spent entire weekends at my grandparents as a teenager reading for there was nought else to do there.

The most overestimated book of all times is… I have to go with Isabelle here and say Ulysees, White Teeth and all of DH Lawrence’s scribblings. I hate it when a book … is predictable. When I was recovering from an operation back in March 2006 I went through a bit of a Katie Fforde phase; after reading a few of her novels I realised that they were all the same – girl is single, girl runs into boy, boy and girl disagree on life, argue constantly but really are falling in love with each other……

If I could be the lead character in a book (mention the title), I would be…. Thursday Next in “The Eyre Affair”

Friday

It all got done in time. The housework, laundry, etc etc. Parents arrived safely. Father has already examined the livingroom ceiling and agrees with you MrsT that the leakstain is an old one, he's also pointed out the other stains on the ceiling and believes that the room above flooded at one point. Oh and apparently the staircase is coming away from the wall in the loft and this may or may not have been caused by the weight of our bookcases. Bother!

What I should have done today

• clean and tidy the house as my parents are arriving tomorrow for a long weekend
• booked a restaurant for Saturday night - my parents are babysitting the boys so MrV and I can go out for a meal
• write a letter to Santa on behalf of the FB emphasising his longing for a marble shoot (series of tunnels you can put together to roll marbles down)
• played music with jars and water

What I did do today

• did some more of that cross stitch
• read my book

Guess how flustered and panicked I'll be tomorrow doing all the housework!

Buses, trams and the tube

Doesn't have the same feel about it as "Trains, Planes and Automobiles" but it will have to do.

Took the FB up to Wandsworth Common today; a trip that involves getting a bus to the tramstop, followed by a tram, then walking a mile or so to the Underground, taking the Northern line north to Clapham South and then finally another mile's walk to the Common.

It would be quicker to take the train directly to the Common but I'm rather lacking the courage to get both boys on a train by myself. There is usually quite a large gap between the train and the platform, and the doors don't stay open for long, so understandably (or not, perhaps I'm being a wimp) we haven't taken this route yet. We will, just give me time.

All in all we walked about 5 miles this afternoon. And his energy levels this evening? Still bouncing off the ceiling!

Dear Santa

I would really like a tranquiliser gun for my Christmas this year. The FB seems to have a secret stash of energy pills hidden about him and pogos about the house like Zebeedee from Magic Roundabout on speed(until he is asked to help tidy up the mess he's made at which point he collapses on the floor and complains he's run out of energy). It's a bit worrying, not to mention exhausting. This afternoon he was a little out of control as we had guests round. MrsT and the LMT drove the Count and I over to Kingston this morning, then came back for lunch and a natter. The FB, when he was picked up from nursery, thought that this would be a splendid occasion to show off all the fabulous social skills he has been taught. Or perhaps not.

Apologies MrsT. Next time I'll take him on a 5 mile run beforehand and try and tire him out.

Yippee!

He slept. He slept. He slept. The.Whole.Night. I on the other hand did not. I kept waking up expecting him to wake up and he didn't. I don't know if it was a fluke, or if it was the massive amount of mashed potato he ate for tea, or the bottle of formula he had last thing at night but whatever it was it worked.
So tonight we're doing the same thing all over again.


(Molly, he's actually named the Count after Dracula purely because of his nocturnal habits - he has yet to turn into a bat and swoop through some unsuspecting lass' bedroomwindow but give him time and possibly a slightly warmer time of year; however, when I am composing blogposts in my head he does tend to get referred to as Count Jim Moriarty Grytpype-Thynne - an amalgamation of both villains from The Goon Show)

The only way is up

After yesterday's tale of woe, you'll be happy to hear that things improved today. The Count is still counting sleep in seconds rather than hours but as MrV took the boys this morning while I had a lie in until 10, I feel much better. I'm not sure what is causing the current disturbance in the Count's sleep patterns. The FB was the same at this age and I kept a very detailed daily diary to see if anything would show up but it didn't matter if he had solids or not, and more or less feeds both bottle and breast, some nights he would sleep through, some nights he wouldn't. We ended up having to go through the horrible "letting him cry himself to sleep" as nothing else worked. I hoped that we would avoid this with the Count as he was such a good sleeper, but I guess not.

Nothing to see folks

After being up at 2am, 4am, 6am and finally 7.30am I'm absolutely shattered and to compound it, I've sinusitis so haven't been outside at all today. Have instead spent the day sitting shaking and tearful on the couch. The Count has gone from being an excellent sleeper both at night and day to being an insomniac at night and refusing to nap during the day. Please, please just let this be a stage, and a short one at that.

Timewarp

The postman arrived and with him came a box of Marguerite Patten's recipe cards dating from 1967 (including amongst the starters such delights as Grapefruit, and Prawn Cocktail, and from International Foods - spagbog. I love it!).
Of course this had to be photograped alongside a trio of Persephone novels, and shot in sepia.

Today I have been mostly

*keeping my eyes open with the help of matchsticks


*begging the Count to nap so I could get some sleep or at least some quiet me time


*wondering if this was truly the best time to start weaning the FB off the TV (he would much rather watch tv than do anything else in the world, not good me thinks)


*getting rather peeved that books I ordered on Sunday have still not arrived and I've almost finished my book (Family Roundabout by Richmal Crompton in case you were wondering. Great book. Recommend it strongly.)


*eating like a horse. As has the Count who polished off part of a carrot, a bit of potato and a whole banana for tea.

Just a walk in the park

By god it was cold

Roly Poly

The Count is on the move. He worked out how to roll from his back to his stomach a while back and has been able, though rather erratically, to roll the other way. Today I walked into the livingroom and found him 2.5m away from where I left him. Eek!

Kitten on a rough wooden fence

This is our neighbours' (the other side, not the DJ) kitten. He likes to wander into my backyard and would come into the house if we let him. Unfortunately Frog is more than a little territorial and does not appreciate adorable kittens coming avisiting.

Things that go bump part 2

It appears that problems with the postal service was not the only thing that followed us when we moved house. I suspect that our friendly poltergeist MrsS has come too. Things are disappearing and then reappearing in places previously searched thoroughly, and these are not things that could be blamed on the cats and their sticky paws. Last night for example, MrV and the FB wanted to set off the last of the sparklers so the FB was asked to go and get his wellies and put them on. Only one could be found. We all searched the hall where both had been but it could not be found. Three hours later I glanced down as I walked past where we had searched and there it was lying brazen as can be on top of a pile of shoes up against my umbrella. I know it wasn't there before.

Fortunately that thing of black evil on my couch hasn't come too, or perhaps it did and has been scared off by the drum and base from next door.

Good Grief

I was supposed to go to the Stitch and Bitch that was being held in Central London today with MrsT but fate conspired against me. Last Tuesday MrV came down with (yet another) stomach bug, and yesterday whilst I got things prepared for our early morning departure, I congratulated myself on avoiding catching his bug. But no, I spoke too soon and today was spent, not strolling around looking at different kinds of yarn and hopefully being taught how to crochet flowers by Yarnstorm, but instead lying in bed feeling very awful and sorry for myself.

I suspect chronic tiredness doesn't help either. The Count is still keeping up his nocturnal activities and now my fabulous neighbour has kicked in. She's a DJ and has decided that 11pm is the perfect time to practise her skills. The noise (a repetative dob dob dob) can be heard in every single room of the house so there is no escape. Grrrrr

By Jove she's got it

I had 15 minutes yesterday before I had to shoot off to pick up the FB from nursery when I decided to give this crochet business another go. I found a website that had good step-by-step photos and hey presto. OK there are some dropped stitches, the colour change went a bit wonky (technical term that) and rather than be the square that I meant it to be, it appears to be a pyramid, but well I'm getting there. The bit that is causing the most trouble (apart from lack of time and general exhaustion) is that the stitches seem to be so tight that I struggle to get the hook through when it's time to make the next row.

My Kingdom for a comfy bed and a good night sleep

At least someone is getting some sleep round here even if it is the person who is rather responsible for my lack of. You won't need a rucksack to carry your stash home on Saturday MrsT you can use the bags under my eyes!

Aw gee shucks

Thankyou! I turned a rather deep shade of red with all your lovely comments. I am so looking forward to finishing it, and if this blog is still going then, I promise to put a photo of it up. To answer your question Isabelle - I sew in the mornings while the FB is at nursery and the Count is asleep, in the afternoon sometimes while the Count is napping and the FB is playing by himself, and in the evening when both boys have fallen asleep. Meggie, if you lived closer I would be on your doorstep begging for help with crocheting.

Children do say the best things sometimes. My mother-in-law thinks we should write down the FB's utterances and perhaps we should because according to him

• The First World War took place in Tooting, and the Second in Balham.
• On asking his father to tuck his teddies in one night he asked if MrV had trouble doing it when he was a child. MrV said he couldn't remember as that was a long time ago, to which the FB responded "Was that during the War daddy?"
• He has just looked down his pyjama top, sighed and said "I'm growing breasts". He didn't realise that it's not just mummies that have nipples but little boys, girls and even daddies.

Ah my daft boy!

WIP

My attempts at crocheting are not going well. I can do the starting stitch and the first row of stitches and but when I try anything beyond that my work starts to look less and less like crochet and more like macrame. Which would be great if I was planning on making hanging pot holders for a dolls house but not if I fancy making a ripple blanket.

The photo above is the completed section of the cross stitch that rules my life. I've almost done 10% now! This is the original photo it was taken from.

What happened to the sun?

Obviously I spoke too soon. Despite how it looks in this photo, the sky today was slate grey and the temperature felt as if it had dropped 200C. The FB still refused to wear coat and jumper. The kitchen floor was so cold this morning that it hurt to walk on it barefoot (unless you are the FB who also scorns such things as socks) so it is time for these to come out

They are gorgeous knitted slippers from Canada. The inside is fleece which keeps your feet very snug and warm. I have a pair, as does the FB (who refuses to wear them) and the Count has two pairs - a titchy pair and the next size up.

The Great Womble Hunt

To make up for the wet summer we had, we've been blessed with the most beautiful autumn. It's still warm enough to go out in sandals, and if you are the FB, without a coat. Mind you he refuses to wear one in the dead of winter, must be his hardy Scottish blood. Because it was such a glorious day today MrV decided not to do any work but instead take us all on a stomp across Wimbledon Common in search of Wombles.




We hunted and we hunted, but no Wombles could we find. Instead this tree caught MrV's eye. I'm going through a bit of a tree thing so I had to get a photo of it. But still we kept on looking for any sign of the elusive womble...


Eventually we reached the Wimbledon Common windmill and gave up hunting. Unfortunately the museum below the windmill was shut for winter and doesn't open again until the end of March which left a certain young man feeling very sorry for himself.

No, not this one. He's looking a bit astonished because today his menu had a new item on it - the vile gunkness that is babyrice. My baby is growing up!

Day Three

At 4am (when the Count woke me up) I realised it's not NoBloPoMo but NaBloPoMo. I've been calling it the wrong thing all this time. I thought it stood for November - Blog Posting Month which you have to admit does make sense.

So day three. The FB's been down with one of his headaches today so we've been sitting in a darkened room listening to the radio and reading him stories to try and take his mind off it. Fortunately he feel asleep which seems to be the best cure and is now feeling much better and back to his normal self. This all means though that today's post is very short.

He's more Blofeld than James Bond really

I'm thinking of renting my boys out to the CIA as specialists in information gathering through techniques made illegal by various international laws.

The Count is currently doing a refresher course in sleep deprivation which he has been attending for a couple of weeks now. One of the main points that he has learnt so far that I can see is to keep the person from whom sleep is being kept guessing when they will be woken up.
And the FB?
He has a line in questioning that would get the most hardened criminal or terrorist begging to surrender information within hours.
Mama - ok we'll walk up to the lights and cross there
FB - why?
Mama- why do you think?
FB - so we can cross the road and go home.
Mama (visibly trying to supress a nervous twitch) - if you knew why did you ask?
FB - I wanted to make sure you knew mummy.

Help!

And they're off

November 01 2007 a new day, a new month, a new NoBloPoMo. What was I thinking? One month of posting every single day. I doubt that enough happens in a month to cover a week of posts let alone 30 entries. Ah well. Be prepared to be bored ok, and don't say at the end that you weren't warned.
This last year has just zoomed by so quickly. This time last year I was in the first trimester more than slightly concerned that the bump pushing my trousers to their limits was not caused by a baby but more by overindulging in lemon meringue pie. Then there was the whole CVS test and the nervous wait for the results. A year on and the little being at the centre of it all is lying on his babygym grinning at me like a loon. I wonder what the year between this NoBloPoMo and next will bring.
And now I must be off to Asda to buy some soy sauce.