I feel like a frickin' genius...

There are certain things I really miss about home (other than my family, of course).  I miss the mountains.  I miss the smell of the sagebrush after rain.  I miss the bright stars at night.  I miss Stephen's Gourmet French Vanilla hot chocolate.

Tonight I was watching 50 First Dates and I started thinking about white chocolate.  It's really not chocolate at all, is it?  Just cream and sugar.  So I decided to give something a try. 

5 minutes, a mug of full-fat milk, two sugars, and a splash of vanilla essence later, I sipped down a VERY close approximation of French Vanilla hot chocolate.

I wonder why I never thought to do that before.  I've been missing that blasted stuff for nearly 5 years now.  Truth be told, my hot milk version was even better than that powder rubbish.  I love figuring stuff out.

I have some pictures to post--maybe tomorrow.  They're kind of sad.  Martin left the stair gate open, and Edith is a climber.  She has a massive carpet burn (about the size of a dime) on the tip of her nose.  It happened on Wednesday, and every time I look at Edith I either want to cry (poor little baby) or hit somebody (careless husband)!  I just hope it doesn't leave a scar!

Silence...

They say that it's golden, and I would have to agree.  When the kids are tucked up in bed, silence so thick you can almost taste it descends on my house, and it is bliss.

The house is so noisy during the day.  I don't often listen to music, but the kids are noisy.  We have telly on for part of the day.  Dylan plays really noisily, making crashing noises and having "emergencies" with his cars.  Edith has started shrieking.  They fight, and Edith cries when Dylan pushes her over or steps on her or squishes her.  Then we have the evening, with bed time cartoons and the noise-fest that is bath time.

But after 7:30pm, it is just me.  And when I turn off the Wii or the telly or the radio and go to bed, I feel the silence all around me.  It's nice. 

Torn...

Edith is getting some HUGE front teeth.  I watched her eating her dinner last night, and admired the way she's figured out how to use them to tear her food.  Getting teeth is always exciting, because a whole new world of food opens up to the kids.  She's learning how to rip, tear, and chew much more efficiently.

I think I'm done breastfeeding her.

OUCH!

My dilemma is this:  How on earth do I wean her?  I'm still feeding her two or three times a day.  I feed her when I wake up, I feed her before her nap, and I feed her when she wakes up from her nap.  She doesn't need the nourishment, but she loves the comfort and the cuddles.  And, truth be told, I like the cuddles as well.  She's my baby, and part of me wants to keep her my baby for as long as possible.  But seriously--ouch!

I guess I could give it a few days and see if she stops scraping me to bits with her big (and, incidentally, VERY sharp) top teeth.  But if I keep feeding her now, when does it stop?  I certainly don't want to be one of those freaky women who feed their kids until they're like 3 or 4 years old!

Dylan was easy--he was down to just one feed a day when I stopped breastfeeding him, and I was already pregnant with Edith.  I wasn't sad to stop.  I needed to stop because I wanted my body to myself for a few months before I had a newborn to feed.  And I couldn't imagine trying to feed two of them at the same time.  Now I just don't know.  Dylan was about the age that Edith is now when I finally weaned him, but she seems so much younger.  She's so tiny and delicate, and still seems like such a baby because she's so small.

The WHO advises women to breastfeed their babies until they are two years old.  Culturally, most women in England stop between 6-9 months.  I've managed a good compromise, I guess.  But opinions would be helpful here, so I am officially soliciting advise from you, my readers.  If you think I should stop, give me some tips for how to manage it.  And if you think I should carry on, give me some tips for dealing with teething pain!

Lazy outdoors evening...

Hooray for girlfriends!

I blogged about Jen on Friday, and here I go about Noelle.  Having a busy and often absent husbnad is really forcing me to develop more friendships with women, and I guess that's a good thing.

Some of you probably saw my Facebook status about going to Ikea and offering a lift to any of my friends who wanted to go?  Well, Noelle took me up on it.  I picked her up at her house yesterday morning, and we had such a good time.  It was wonderful to have some company on the drive to Leeds.  Especially because Noelle is Canadian (almost as good as American in my book, because she also lived in Utah for a while and went to BYU).  It's just so nice to hear other North American accents!  Anyway, she is such a lovely person.  So friendly, down to earth, plain spoken, and out-going.  I especially love the plain spoken bit.

Ikea was a big success.  I got a new duvet and cover for Dylan since his old one was getting too small and he kept waking up in the night when his covers came off.  His old one has now moved to the crib for Edith.  I also got some cute shelves for the kids' room (bit of a bargain at £2.99 each) and some storage bins from the bargain corner for just £.70.  I'm always looking for more storage!  We ate a delightful lunch in the Ikea cafe and wandered around for about 2 hours.

After we got done at Ikea (with some baby and icecream juggling and a last minute toilet trip) I drove Noelle down to Sheffield where her boyfriend lives and where her car was parked, and she took us to Costco.  Can I just say, FANTASTIC?  I got some nice bagels, a big jug of Pace salsa, some Ranch dressing, and a giant pack of diapers for much cheaper than I can get them elsewhere.  It was like being home for about 45 minutes.  And the kids loved all the free samples.

We dropped Noelle off at her car and then drove home--just me and the kids.  I was quite proud of myself, since I don't usually do the driving on long trips away (I'm usually with Martin and he prefers to do the driving).  I didn't get lost once, and I didn't get stressed out in the heavy traffic around Leeds and Sheffield, either.  I felt cool, composed, and so independent.  I know that sounds kind of stupid, that I felt independent.  I've lived on my own before, and I used to pride myself on my independence.  But I have become highly co-dependent, so that feeling of being able to do it on my own is kind of heady.

It was dinner time when we got home, and then bath and bed time.  I had prepared for the night time routine before we left our house in the morning, so it was pretty easy.  Then the kids were safely tucked up in bed and I collapsed on the sofa--totally exhausted, but in such a good way.

The best part of the day was how well behaved the kids were.  Seriously, they were SO good.  Even Dylan, running loose in Ikea.  He was amazing!  It's nice that we can do things that they enjoy, like going to to park, AND things that I enjoy, like shopping at Ikea, and we can all have a good time.  I'm starting to feel less restricted by my children, and that can only be a good thing.  And, I think that feeling will only become more frequent as the kids get older and less dependent on me.

Martin started his new job 6 weeks ago on Friday, and we are all adjusted now.  It's a good thing, because it's giving us extra income, more self respect, and time apart to do our own thing.

But I still miss having so much time together!

How did I know?

How did I know that Jen and I would be BFF?  Well, it was because one day when we went shopping in Grimsby she bought me some fake hair.  I knew at that moment that we would be friends for life.

I haven't seen Jen in ages, and she came over yesterday and spent the afternoon with me and the kids.  We just chilled out, had drinks together, took the kids to the park, and then had nibbles at Stables (I love it when Martin waits on me).  It was totally relaxed and informal and a lot of fun, and I wish we could do it more often.  Unfortunately, she is one of the busiest people I know.  I had to book our afternoon of just hanging out and relaxing together a full week in advance!

Busy morning, so I need to get to it.  I just wanted to say that Jen is amazing.  So are all my friends, new and old.  I am not too selective when it comes to casual friends, but when it comes to my best mates, I am one of the pickiest people I know.  So if I count you as a real friend, you must be pretty amazing.

How our parents mess us up...

Yesterday I was working in the garden with Martin and the kids.  It was a beautiful day, we were listening to music and enjoying the sunshine, the kids were being really good.  But all of a sudden, I found myself in a foul mood.  I snapped at Martin and got impatient with the children.  I had no idea why.  And then it hit me.  I was picking up rocks!

My parents built their home at the mouth of a canyon, on an old alluvial fan.  There were a lot of rocks in the soil--and I mean a LOT!  Dad needed all of them to be picked up so that we could have a nice
garden, and my sisters and I were all roped in to help.  Then, as we got older and started being "naughty," picking up rocks was one of the ways we were punished.  And my parents were smart about it, too.  We didn't work by the hour.  Oh no!  We worked by the wagon load.  Say you got home later than they told you to--two wagons full of rocks, please. 

So the whole time I was picking up rocks, I felt like I was being punished for something.

The same thing happens when I have to iron men's clothes.  I don't mind ironing my clothes, and I absolutely LOVE ironing the kids' clothes.  But when it comes time to do Martin's shirts and trousers I end up cranky and miserable.  I had to iron my dad's clothes as punishment when I was growing up, and it still feels like punishment now!

I live in fear that I will screw up my kids somehow.  I guess I can only hope that the way they get messed up is no more serious than feeling like doing routine household chores is punishment for wrong doings.

All things considered, my parental issues could be a lot worse!

Dylan's list...

Things I want to do with Grandma when she gets here:

take her in my garden and show her the ladybugs.

take her to the garden centre to show her the fountains.

take her swimming with Jen.

take her to church with us.

take her to the castle (Thornton Abbey).

go to London and take her on the trains that go underneath the ground (the Tube)

My list of things to do when my mom gets here:

let her spoil my kids rotten and deal with the consequences after she leaves.

Mom, we are so excited that your tickets have been bought and you are definitely on your way.  Dylan keeps talking about your visit and together we're coming up with different things to do with you every day.  Your schedule will be so jam-packed that you won't have any free time at all.  Although, to be fair, seeing the ladybugs in our garden won't really take that much time.

Trying to get some new photos for the wall...

What do you do when the weather is absolutely perfect?

Spend as much of the day outside as possible, of course.  We had a great morning walk, and the kids and I spent most of the afternoon in the garden or out walking.  Today was one of those oh-so-rare perfect English spring days, and we took full advantage of it!

Life is a miracle...

I don't understand why I'm so amazed every time I plant a seed and it sprouts. 

None of my vegetable seeds have sprouted yet, but I have a tiny little nasturtium plant that's poked it's little head up in the hanging basket.  I felt this tiny little thrill when I saw it.

So silly--you plant a seed, give it water and sunshine, and it grows.  But it still feels like a miracle every time it happens.

My babies were so good today.  We had fun and didn't watch hardly any television.  We had Amy over for dinner, and Dylan and Edith were adorable at the dinner table and ate all their food.  We played out in the garden afterwards, and planted some peas.  Seriously, amazing day.  And when I tucked the kids in to bed this evening, I was reminded why I wanted to have them in the first place.  And, as always, I loved them.

They are a miracle, too.  My own miracle--even better than a silly nasturtium plant.

It's not about quantity...

I am aware that two kids should not be that hard to manage.  Loads of women have more kids than me.  I could totally handle two kids with ease if they were just a LITTLE bit further apart in age. 

It's not the quantity--it's the proximity in age.

Edith is lovely, but is still high maintenance because she's not walking or talking yet.

Dylan is lovely, but he's just high maintenance.  I'd like to claim it's his age, but he's pretty much always been this way.

Maybe I'm deluding myself.  Maybe it really IS like I told the bishop's wife tonight--"I should NOT be allowed to have children."

I guess time will tell.  We'll see how things go when Edith is walking and talking.  In the mean time, all I have to say is that it's a good thing one of them wasn't twins!  Hats off to my sisters...

...oh, and I really do love my children to pieces.  Just because I can't handle them some days doesn't mean they're not totally adorable.  The failure is all my own, I'm sure.

Sleeping at Auntie Cathy's

The kids started their night at Cathy's house and we went to the cinema to see Clash of the Titans.  We had a great time, and were happy to see the kids sleeping peacefully when we got back.  Aww, so adorable!

Fireman Steve...

Martin's best man at our wedding was Steve, who is a fireman in Grimsby.  Martin was speaking to him last night, and I asked if we could bring Dylan in to look at the fire engines today.  Steve said yes, so we all went in.  Dylan was kind of sleepy and more than a little bit awe-struck.  He got to sit in the fire engine, look around the station, try on a helmet, and go for a RIDE!

Martin had a good time, as well.

Thanks, Fireman Steve.  We had a great time!

Our fun and funky garden...

On the mend...

Three days of pain, discomfort, and misery have culminated in a trip to see the doctor, a prescription for penicillin, steroids, and heavy usage of the English equivalent of Tylenol 3.  My poor children were farmed out to other people, Martin was at work, and I was home alone feeling sorry for myself.

I am amazed at how quickly this latest infection/asthma attack hit me.  I felt great on Wednesday, was a little bit achey on Thursday, and by Friday was totally knocked out.  I can hardly take care of myself when I feel that way, so was really relieved that my mother-in-law took my babies on Friday night and kept them all day yesterday.  I asked her to bring them back to me last night and help me get them to bed here, and she kindly obliged.  It was mostly because I am at the point where if I miss more than a day of feeding Edith I will start to lose my milk.  And even though she is now over a year old, I'm not quite ready to stop feeding her.  Dylan was 14 months when I stopped with him, and she seems so much younger because she is so tiny.

I don't really realize how much I do for and with my children until I can't do anything at all.  Saturday would have been miserable for us all if Christine hadn't taken them.  Instead, they got to play out in her garden and go to the People's Park in Grimsby with their nanna and Auntie Cathy, and they both had a fantastic time.  I got through my ironing pile (whilst sitting down, of course) and took a two hour afternoon nap.  And I concentrated on forcing fluids and getting myself better.  Now I feel nearly human again, and it's so nice.  Martin has gone back to bed, and I'm enjoying snuggles with both of my lovely kids.

Edith has a new tooth--her first one on the top.  She's been a bit miserable cutting it, but seems to be doing much better now that it's popped through.  Teething is SO not fun.  And Dylan played up last night at bath time because he'd not had his normal bedtime routine for two nights running.  But I love those snuggles so much, and am basking in the glow of motherhood this morning. 

Of course, it could just be the codeine...

Dylan's health stuff...

Feel free to skip if you're not a close friend or family member.

Dylan had his hospital appointment in Hull today, and it went really well.  He saw the hematologist and they took some blood and scheduled follow up appointments.  I was really impressed with the whole visit.

We arrived about 20 minutes early since I wasn't sure how long it would take us to get there, get parked up, and find the outpatients clinic.  We got booked in immediately, and only waited about 5 minutes before Dylan was taken back to be weighed and measured (Incidentally, he is now only on the 50th centile for his weight but still on the 91st for height--built like his daddy, only a little bit more robust).  About 10 minutes after that, we were called back for our appointment.  Five minutes EARLY!  We had a nice chat with the consultant, and he discussed all the relevant stuff with us.  He wants to do two more tests to rule out von Willebrand's disease, which is the most common bleeding disorder and is usually mild enough to only need treatment in the event of surgery, childbirth, etc.

The whole appointment lasted about 25 minutes.  The most difficult part of the visit was finding somewhere to park.  The staff were friendly and efficient.  The care was quick and more than adequate.  I am really pleased with the NHS today, and very happy that we are one step closer to getting Dylan's little "procedure" done.

Edith went to the beach with the Mundays while Dylan and I went to the hospital.  Not really a fair trade, but he did get an icecream afterwards, and he got to sit in the front seat with me for the drive there and back.  And now he is sleeping at Emma's house.  Thank goodness for Emma--seriously!  I am not well at the minute.  My asthma is flaring up and we had a pretty sleepless night with the kids which never helps.  I don't know what I would do without Saint Emma!

But we're all doing well.  Health aside, things are good.  Martin is enjoying his job, I am enjoying the gardening and the warm sunny days with the kids.  I'm even enjoying my alone time in the evenings.

Prayers for a speedy recovery for me and my poorly babies would be much appreciated!

Gardening...

I never thought I'd say this, but I am really enjoying doing the gardening lately.

Now that we've got really nice grass (though we are still trying not to walk on it too much) it has inspired me to work on the rest of the garden.  Especially because I can't leave the house Tuesday through Saturday after 7pm.  Being, quite literally,  stuck in the house 5 nights a week is a bit wearing.  Being able to go out and work in the back garden feels a little bit like I'm getting away with something.  I lock the front door, turn the baby monitor on, and lose myself for the hour before it gets dark.

Last night was lovely.  I am currently using our barbeque table as a make-shift potting area, and I planted some tomato, watermelon, courgette, and aubergine seeds in old yoghurt pots.  I also planted some nasturtiums in a hanging basket.  As I was standing at the back of the garden, the bell ringers for St. Mary's church met for their weekly practice.  It was cold and the wind was blowing, but I was totally happy.  I can hardly wait for the seeds to start sprouting, and I think that Tuesday night will be my official gardening night.  Can you imagine the pleasure of gardening to church bells?

I have always admired really quirky style, especially in the garden.  I have wondered how people achieved the look, and now I know because mine is starting to look totally funky and fun.  It's a combination of creativity, a passion for recycling, and zero money!  I have my home-made barbeque grills, an old window and yoghurt pots being used as a makeshift greenhouse for my little seedlings.  I also have a couple of old windows in heavy frames on the back table to reflect heat and break up the effect of all that brick back there.  I have that fantastic old fireplace and chimney in the back corner which I am going to turn into a water feature of some kind (just need to get some pond liner and some mortar, because I am going to attempt some brick work--fun, huh?).  I have my antique looking garden tools hanging up on the walls.  I just wish I had some really great antique garden furniture instead of the free cheap white plastic I got off freecycle.

My goal is to make my garden absolutely irresistible to potential buyers.  I think it's getting there!

our weekend in pictures...

Dylan has been playing hard and he's not been napping in an attempt to get him to sleep longer in the morning.  This is the result:

Edith is pretty fascinated by Dylan when he's sleeping.  She kept going up to him and trying to wake him up.

We went to the Brigg Garden Centre with the in-laws on Saturday, and we all had a great time.  The fish were the highlight of the day, for sure.

It was the ward Easter party today, and it was a chocolate extravaganza.  Dylan really enjoyed the Easter Egg hunt, and then proceeded to unwrap (but not eat) all his eggs that he found.  He was REALLY focused on the task at hand.

Edith started out looking really cute, but she quickly turned into a chocolate monster:

A good time was had by all.  But, it has to be said that chocolate is like a drug to the kids.  They were both sitting in the back seat singing to each other all the way home.  Fantastic!

Although I don't have a picture of it (the sun had gone down by the time I finished), I have brutally attacked the ivy in the back garden with the secateurs.  Our back garden is really starting to look nice now.  Just need to take a few things to the tip in the morning, and I will be proud to have people look at our garden.  I also need to get some seeds started.  I'm going to do onions, lettuce, tomatoes, and maybe some cucumbers, courgettes and aubergine.  Exciting stuff!

Dylan says the cutest things...

Dylan freaks out when he gets wrinkly hands in the bath.  Tonight when I was getting him dried off and dressed, we had the best conversation:

D-(wiping his hands on my shirt) I'm just wiping my wrinklies on your pretty dress.

J- (with Dylan stroking my face) Are you wiping your wrinklies onto my face now?

D- (giggling) Yes, mama.

J- I don't want your wrinkles on your face.  They will make me look old, and I want to be a yummy mummy.

D- I don't want you to be a yummy mummy.

J- Why not?

D- Because then I would have to eat you up!

Oh man, this kid amuses me!

The birthday girl

One year ago today, Edith joined our family.  She wasn't the prettiest baby in the world, but her personality has always been beautiful!

Now, a year on, her looks have definitely caught up with her personality.  And that personality--WOW!  She's still a shy, quiet little thing when we go out in public, but she's a little firecracker at home.  And she is still the sweetest thing.

I can't believe my tiny little baby (Ok, maybe not so tiny) is a whole year old.  Where has the time gone?