Generational Scolding

Well, after yesterday's melancholy post, I thought I might buck up my ideas and get out and about today.  Getting out and about today with my mum.  And Bubble.  This is not the easiest thing in the world.  Mum is in a wheelchair and Bubble is 16 months old so you can imagine the kerfuffle getting in and out of the car!  Not that I mind... one of my favourite things about this kind of generational shopping is our 'choo-choo train' - mum pushes Bubble and I push mum.  We make a bit of a scene along the street shouting "choo! choo!" to the obviously squealing delight of Bubble.

Love it.
Today though, Bubble was not sharing my optimistic, get up and go mood.  Bubble was not up for anything today, least of all shopping with Mummy and Nanny.  She has been exploring her ever increasing capacity for talented tantrum throwing, alongside her exploration of her vocal cords (how high do YOU think I can scream mummy?).

We were in Mothercare trying to purchase a swimsuit for the little demon.  And little demon she was...you could NOT watch this greased streak of toddler lightning.  Mum and I juggled managing the little darling whilst trying to locate swimwear (having asked the shop assistant who stated no, all swimwear had been removed because it was now autumn/winter stock.  You can imagine her face when I pointed out that swimming is a year round activity.  Anyway I digress...).  At one point the three of us managed to line up, like planets in the solar system, Bubble right next to the automatic doors, me about 5 meters back and mum about 5 meters behind me.  The conversation went a bit like this.

Mum: Cheryl! She's at the door!
Me: Isobel! Don't you even think about moving through that door!
Mum: Cheryl! Don't you dare take a risk with her at that door!
Bubble:  (excited squeal)
Me: Isobel! Nanny is now shouting at ME! Get back here right now!

As Bubble danced on her toes, squealing and attempting to run through said door, I ran after her and caught her up in my arms tickling her til she giggled out loud.  I turned around to bring her back to my mum to find about 4 sales staff laughing at us.

I have dubbed this kind of situation as 'Generational Scolding'.

:o)

Off the radar

image credit

I've been off the radar a bit.  I've been trying to get my head in gear.  Lots of little things have been trying me, not least that Bubble has upped her breastfeeding during the day to record amounts.  I'm pretty sure this is knackering me through her taking all my goodness so soon after being ill. (not seriously, Bubble and I just had a nasty headcold)  So I'm quite tired at the moment which means I'm less inclined to make the effort to post when Bubble hits the sack.

Another issue is a lond standing friend of mine has gone very cool on me. I'm used to her caustic humour but, of late, her comments have had an edge.  This is no new feeling.  Another of my long standing friends and I have been circling each other like cats for years now.  The loss of one is hard enough but the thought of losing the second is particularly upsetting.

I'm not an idiot.  I do wonder that it might be me and not them.  That I might just be one of those people who can't help but piss others off.  I really, really don't mean to.  I really, really don't know if I have but I certainly have no other explanation as to why the dislike creeps in.  I actually make a concerted effort to be as nice as possible.  But people do tire me.  I might not show it but I have very little patience for small-mindedness, bitching about others, judging others, hypocrisy, etc.  I could go on. 

Live and let live, I say.  If it's not hurting you or yours then who are you to complain?  Like long-term breastfeeding.  Yes my child is a toddler and she still breastfeeds.  No, it's none of your business.  I'm not hurting you, so why should you care?  It's not like I whop out a breast in the street and let her suckle but I do let her lead the breastfeeding in the privacy of my own home.  Which leads me back to the fact she's nursing ALOT. And that I'm tired.  Which means I'm a bit more sensitive than usual, I suppose.

Another addition to the pile is a frustated lead for our move to Australia.  It's not a 'no' but it's not a definitive 'yes'.  We need a 'yes' in our lives.  Wad and I need some light at the end of our tunnel.  We knew these hard times wouldn't be forever but we have to admit that on occasion it wears us down.  I was looking at photos of our travels back in 2006 and was shocked to see how much better and healthier Wad looked.  These last few years have really taken their toll on him.

I love my husband very much.  He works his backside off to keep us afloat.  It hurts me to see the change.

Keep your fingers crossed for us.

Keep your fingers crossed for a 'yes' in the near future.

:o)

Mini Rant - fed up with my sister texting when I am TALKING to her!

One of my pet irritations in this life is when the person you are directing your conversation to does not look at you.  It is something that is so wonderfully and currently demonstrated by my 23 year old, blackberry owning, facebooking, bms-ing, texting sister who (declaring how fantastic she is at multi-tasking) will have cyber conversations with about 10 other people whilst having a REAL LIFE conversation with me....minus eye contact but plus alot of 'Mmm'ing and 'yeah?'.

Now I am not suggesting she sit there like a lunatic staring at me intensely for the entire duration of our conversation but I do expect the odd courteous glance to indicate that she does acknowledge my existence, indeed is interested in what I have to say. ('Mmm'ing does NOT indicate interest)

It is part of those little body language cues that we all use to communicate on a subliminal level...the ones that you can't read when you are driving, hence the reason behind road rage.  For example, driver A may have made a genuine mistake in cutting up driver B's ass on the motorway but driver B can't see the apology in driver A's body language and so loses it and adds another 100 to the already overloaded mileage in his car just to drive up driver A's tailpipe to show him 'whose boss' and teach him some feckin' road manners. (use your effin' indicator you effin' muppet!!)

All I'm saying is that eye contact is not only courteous but necessary when communicating effectively with other people.

Look at me when I am speaking to you!!  Ok don't.  I'll just write up a little rant on my blog, defaming you forever through the medium of the written word as a 23 year old, blackberry owning, facebooking, bms-ing, texting muppet excuse for a sister.

Oh that's so cute....She just said, "Oooo! It's all about YOU isn't it?"

Call me attention seeking, limelight hogger, love-me-do whatever, but when you do it, I expect you to LOOK AT ME WHEN I AM SPEAKING TO YOU.

(I love the little runt really)

Easy like Sunday morning (well, afternoon)

I am quite particular to Sundays.  You know, the eeeaasy Sundays... chilling tunes, breakfast in bed, doing the garden, a roast with the folks.  This is exactly what this Sunday is all about. Bubble is in bed for her nap, M&M are doing the garden whilst the gorgeous wafting of roast beef  fills the kitchen, drifting into the sunroom where I am currently ensconced with the laptop.  I have Jack Johnson strumming in my ears and a gorgeous cup of steaming coffee to my left, whilst the sun warms my neck.

Peace.

The only thing missing is Wad.  He wasn't home this weekend so I bailed and headed to my folks rather than stay home alone with Bubble for ten days.  Relaxing like this at my childhood home makes the separation alot easier I can tell you!  Can't beat a roast dinner ;o) Or the laundry fairy...she's great but she only seems to reside here at M&M's.

Still...  It was our wedding anniversary yesterday.  We'd had plans.  But something has come up, something he really needs to give his time to.  And that's ok because I'd rather be on the receiving end of the outcome of this 'something' and miss our anniversary than have our wee day and miss out on this 'something'.

I'm sure you're wondering why I'm being so coy... All will be revealed in due course :o)  I just don't want to jinx it because it's very early days.  Exciting though!  Exciting enough to  bear with Wad not being here.  He makes a fabulous cup of tea in the morning.

And what about the sunday morning breakfast in bed? I hear you cry, Surely you can't live without breakfast in bed?! Certainly not... I made it for M&M and took satisfaction in their enjoyment of that bit of luxury.

:o)

My mum.

My mum fell pregnant with me when she was 18.
My mum married my dad because she was pregnant with me.
My mum left my dad with me when I was 2.
(she took the alfa romeo)

My mum married my stepdad when I was 7.
My mum moved to the 'other side of the fence'.
My mum had two more children.
(she looks like she's still in her 20's)

My mum takes an awful lot of cheek from me.
My mum slapped me because I deserved it.
My mum cried when I left to live with my dad.
(she drove me in the car there herself)

My mum waved me off on the boat.
My mum called every week.
My mum and I mucked around at graduation.
(she kept trying to tickle me during the photoshoot)

My mum stepped out to cross the road.
My mum looked left and right.
My mum didn't notice the traffic begin to move beside her.
(she was in front of a lorry)

My mum has lost her leg.
My mum has lost her finger.
My mum is in a wheelchair.
(she has not lost her spirit)

Me and mum in Barcelona on my 30th
birthday (yes, I was blond back then!)

I wrote this a long time ago as a mother's day poem but never used it.  My mum has been in a wheelchair for 7 years and in this time she has travelled, opened a clothes boutique, become a mother-in-law, become a granny and did this all whilst still looking fabulous.  She is more a sister than a mother and we couldn't be more different as people - we scrap as much as we laugh.  She is an absolutely fantastic grandmother and Bubble adores her. 

I love her very much.

What's for you...

...won't go by you.

Recently, if someone had said that to me one more time, I was going to spontaneously combust.  Not a religious type, I was getting to the point where I was beginning to believe some'one'/'thing' was deliberately trying to duff my life over. Since late 2006, my life has seen several kickings challenges.  Not at the worst end of the scale but high on the 'wearing-you-down' agenda were the Australia Frustrations.

In 2006 Wad's DesignInc job offer fell through, I already talked about that in an earlier post, but what really kicked us in the stomach was that six months later, after accepting permanent contracts in Scotland and literally days after purchasing a house, Wad received a job offer from an old friend in Sydney.  I felt sick.

Never mind, we reasoned, we bought the house to refurbish and sell to make a profit for our move to Australia (HA! I can assure you there WILL be a post on THAT particular tale!!).

2008 and the housing market is about to implode. We have really good savings.  So we start an application for skilled migration.  It's all going swimmingly and BAM! I get made redundant. We need the savings as a little financial bunce so we put the application on hold. 

2009 and I have a little part time contract work.  It's clear that we won't be able to afford the migration visa.  Another (crazy) option is for me to get a work hol visa, get out there, get a full time job and (after a few months of full time wages to build us up financially again) get sponsored.  Then bring Wad over on my visa.

It was a mad plan.  But we were passionate enough about emmigrating to do it...


...we were passionate all right.  I was pregnant!


A month later and we are chatting on the phone with AJ and UP.  They know how desperately we wanted to move and UP tells us of one of his friends in Rockhampton who is in dire need of architects in his office and is willing to sponsor foreign nationals.  We are nervously excited at the prospect (we had never considered QLD before) and ask them to give this man our details.

The following week I developed severe morning sickness which developed into hyperemesis the week after that.  By week 9 in my pregnancy I was hospitalised and all thoughts of Rockhampton were forgotten.  It took until week 17 in my pregnancy and the discovery of the right anti-sickness medication for me to feel human again.  By then we were too excited about the pregnancy and thought that it was probably for the best. 

It wasn't so long ago that Rockhampton was decimated by floods.

And here we are, almost 2 years since our last attempt, and I'm back in the saddle, effectively marketing my husband and his fabulous talents to the Australian market.

:o)

What's for you won't go by you and if it's meant to be it will be.

Facelift

Thanks to the link to Templates By Tenille on So now what?  I have refreshed my image to something a little more 'me'.

Hope you like! :o)

Stop! Daddy Time!

As I'm sure I've mentioned previously, or perhaps I've just mentioned it on comments on others' blogs, Wad is away Mon to Fri for work.  Our routine consists of as follows...

• Bubble and I wake alone on a Monday morning (lending a whole new lilt to Monday Morning Blues)
• Tuesdays we are very busy with groups and chores
• Wednesdays can be even busier with visits to friends and their kids (perhaps my mum will come to stay)
• Thursdays are exciting as we prepare for the weekend, doing chores to pretty the house
• Fridays are all about getting to 4pm when we go to collect Wad.
• Saturday morning Wad goes to golf and Bubble and I go for walk/go to park/play, meet Wad for lunch then Sat afternoon is Daddy Time.  (I live for Saturday afternoon!)
• Sunday we do something as a family before dropping Wad off for his return journey to work.

It's a routine that works because Wad needs to give his all to the business during the week and then he gives his all to us at the weekend.  But I've always looked at those who have daddy at home with envy.

This week however, Wad has been home for 10 days straight.  He's still working and I suppose this is what life would be like under normal circumstances.  It's been great but revealing as well.  For one, that man can't multi-task for toffee!! I get more done in the morning before Bubble's nap than he gets done in the whole bleedin' day! On the other hand, it's a little sad because when he gets in, Bubble is super excited to see him to the point that she is overcome, very shy and runs to me.

I want Bubble to know Wad as her daddy.  To run to him with excitement and joy.  This would obviously require Wad being at home 7 days a week like a normal dad.  Unfortunately, our circumstances as they are, this will not change in the forseeable future.  We are caught in a bind, you see.  One forged by the recession and the commitment required by a) me to care for Bubble 24/7 on my own and b) him to generate enough quality work that provides the income to put food on the table. 

Wad works exceptionally hard.  At least mine is a labour of love.  But when he is free to be with his family, we get grade 'A' star daddy time.

:o)

London gone mad

WHERE ARE THE PARENTS??

Oh no, that's right, we can divorce or sue our parents now.  Why is anyone surprised these kids have gone mad?  They have no respect for anything anymore, they are not taught to. Authority figures are scared to look in the wrong direction at a child these days.  I'm not suggesting we go back to the days of the cane but what about discipline? Teaching right from wrong?  Teaching respect? Or rather showing your children enough respect that they learn what it is.  Look at what these London kids are doing...

Fire in Croydon

Thugs mug injured boy

Teenage girls brag about riots

It's horrifying.  This has nothing to do with Mark Duggan.  It was just the excuse they needed.  I'm disgusted by this.  I'm as disgusted (if not more) by this as I am by the annual marches and violence that occur in Northern Ireland on 12th July.  This is wanton thuggery.

Is it any wonder I want to leave the UK?

The secret?

Today I logged in to draft a blog post on my daughter falling into the dogs water bowl (I'll get to that later!) and discovered that I have not one but two followers! Hooray! I didn't expect any followers for MONTHS.  I didn't think what I had to say would be in any way interesting to anybody else...much less interesting enough for them to follow!  But hey, I must be doing something right so long may it continue! :o)
When I began my first blogging forays (many moons ago!) they had topics and direction but I couldn't maintain them.  Now this blog (the fifth one lol) has absolutely no direction and has been the easiest to maintain.  Is that the secret? To just waffle?  Are all us ladies essentially just doing a cyber version of gossiping over the fence with a cuppa? 

I love that idea.  I love the idea of chatting over the global fence with my american/aussie/spanish etc neighbour.   A cheeky bit of global gossip. ;o) It helps bring the world that tiny bit closer, don't you think?

:o)

Folk I like to follow...

It has occurred to me that many of the blogs I follow are written by Aussies.  This is not deliberate, despite my Australian Citizen Wannabe syndrome.  Subconcious perhaps, but not intentional.  The problem is obviously the time difference and I'm beginning to wonder if these bloggers see my comments on their posts and wonder ''who is this weirdo posting at 3am?!''

So, I making a concerted effort to find more bloggers closer to home. 

What would be a mad achievement would be finding Northern Irish bloggers...

Pause

I absolutely had to share this with you all.  It is the most haunting and beautiful song I have heard in a while.

You can follow Emily Barker here.  Apologies if she is madly well known...I have literally just discovered her in the last 5 mins!!!

My name is...

I'm making little changes, bit by bit.  I'm a nervous amateur blogger... I believe all the scary stories about identity theft and being stalked and being found and ridiculed by those bullies in your workplace from 'x' amount of years ago.  So I wouldn't put my name or a real picture initially.  But, the more I read about other lady bloggers like myself... the more I realise that hiding behind these pseudonyms won't help me connect with others.  Why would they trust someone who doesn't trust them? 

So, baby steps first.  I put a photo of me and Bubble up in my profile.


Oh, and my name is Cheryl :o)