Gilberts' Fridge

I'm a bad parent...

2012-01-28T21:44:00.001Z

Does it make me a bad person that I find my son annoying?

And not just a little annoying, either. A LOT annoying! He's loud, and he boasts and brags when he wins something. He bosses people around and shouts at his sister when she does anything that he doesn't approve of. And, worst of all, he bloomin' IGNORES ME!

Don't get me wrong-I love the kid. He's smart and beautiful, and very affectionate. But when I'm tired or unwell, I really can't stand to be around him. So today, with the house to prepare for a viewing, it goes without saying, well...do I really have to say it?

KID DROVE ME NUTS ALL DAY LONG!

But the viewing went ok, I think, and the house is as spick and span as it can be with two young kids running around the place. And they got McDonalds as a special treat for being so good.

I wasn't annoyed with him when I tucked the kids into bed tonight.

I know it's not very sensitive, but...

2012-01-26T22:49:00.000Z

I was doing some shopping in Scunthorpe last week and saw a woman wearing a hijab. Not unusual for Scunthorpe, where there is a fairly large Muslim population (for white bread Lincolnshire, anyway). I hadn't had a chance to wash my hair that day, and I seriously thought to myself, "Wow, I'll bet that comes in really handy when you're having a bad hair day."

Martin accuses me of being a bit of an anarchist. Funny, how closely anarchy resembles a belief in small government. Our political views very rarely match up. I don't think the government should have as much control as they do, and Martin likes being more "protected." Interesting, when you consider that many political discussions with my dad (Cook, not Bowcutt) ended with him snorting derisively and calling me a "bleeding heart liberal."

That could be a post all on its own. Maybe one for another night.

Anyway, one of the many things Martin and I disagree on is the wearing of the burka. Although it might make me seem anti-feminist, I have no problem with people wearing it. I don't think anyone should be forced to wear a burka, but I believe they should be able to choose to wear it if they want. Martin thinks it should be banned as it hides peoples' faces and poses a security risk. He also thinks that wearing a burka isolates women from the world around them. We could fight--er, debate--for hours about this topic.

I was shopping in Claire's Accessories a few years ago, and they had a really good clearance rack. A woman in a burka and hijab was standing at the clearance rack and looking at some earrings that I really liked, so I asked her where she had found them. She looked around the shop, saw that there were no men present, removed the veil covering her face, and talked to me for a few moments about the jewellery we were looking at.

This was one of the most memorable moments of my life. I will never forget that woman's smile. I felt like she had let me into her life in such a personal way, and it was like a little gift. She wasn't isolated from the world. She was just choosing who to let in. And she chose me, even if it was just for a few minutes. Amazing!

Anyway, using the hijab to cover up your greasy hair. Good or bad idea? Discuss:

2012-01-24T21:37:00.000Z

Still a looker. Actually, loving the pixie look!

Getting ready to go out.

Yes, they really do like each other!

On our way to a party.

So you're feeling like you're 40...

2012-01-24T21:30:00.000Z

My body seriously feels like it's falling to pieces. Specifically, my hips and pelvis. I'm hobbling around like an arthritic old woman at the minute.

Of course, I still went to the gym this morning. The cross trainer was hard, but I made it through. I think I'm actually getting slightly addicted to the gym.

Hmmm, maybe that's why my body is falling apart.

Anyway, all this time at the gym is giving me a lot of time to think about various things:

A while back, someone I know told me that she is bulimic. It was strange, because she is so tiny and has such a great body, and I've always been more than a little bit jealous. Finding out she has an eating disorder kind of makes me feel like she's been cheating all this time. And it makes me sad, that she'd be willing to destroy her body for the sake of making it look good.

Lately, Dylan has been incredibly loud. It's like he only has two volumes--asleep and deafening. It's driving me crazy, and I don't know what to do about it. Seriously, it's like he's shouting all the time. He gets so excited about everything, and when he gets excited the volume goes up. Any suggestions would be welcome.

Edith has hit her terrible twos with a vengeance. She screamed for nearly an hour and a half last week because I wouldn't read her a second bedtime story. That kid is stubborn as a mule, and she certainly knows what she does and does not want. It's just a phase, but it's one of those phases where good parenting is incredibly difficult. It's so much easier to just give in to her whining demands. But if I give in now, it will just make my life harder in 10 years time. I'll take the hard work now rather than when she's a teenager, thanks.

We have a house viewing on Saturday. We were supposed to have one two Sundays ago, and we had a special fast for it. That may not seem like a big deal to you super religious people who do it all the time, but it's a HUGE deal for us. So imagine our chagrin when the viewing was cancelled--especially since I spent my entire Saturday night cleaning the house for it. Thanks to my new year's resolution, a lot of stuff has been getting done. But it was still hard work. So maybe this is the one--the answer to our prayers.

Martin just had a week off work, and it was fantastic. He is nearly finished with our kitchen cabinets. He was finished, but there was a mistake with one of them and he has to re-do it. But I don't care that much about the cabinets. I care about having my husband at home, and it was wonderful! How sad, that hanging out and playing Guitar Hero with Martin is more fun than anything else I could do. I'd also forgotten how much easier it is to get the kids into bed when Martin is home. Half the work is BLISS!

He's back at work now, and I'm lonely even though I'm happily catching up on all the telly I missed while he was home.

So yeah, full week ahead, in pain, missing Martin, Dylan driving me nuts and Edith throwing temper tantrums left, right, and center. That's the update. Now I'm going to post some pictures.

Thirty three

2012-01-20T22:11:00.000Z

Ouch! I turned 33 today.

It has been a great day though. Good upper body workout, great swimming session with Edith, haircut, Turkish baths at Harrogate with my husband, and now waiting for him to come home with a big bucket of KFC chicken. He's promised to watch Twilight with me.

Getting older is kind of pants, and I've decided that the reason you give gifts to people is to soften the blow. I got some cracking presents--my favorite so far is from my sister Velecia, who sent me "The Neverending Story."

Oooh, Martin is home with the food. I'm outie!

I hated someone today...

2012-01-13T15:14:00.001Z

Not anybody I knew, either. Just some random woman who had taken her kid to the Fun Forest in Brigg.

I didn't hate her because her kid was undisciplined and mean to one of mine. I didn't hate her because she was a terrible driver and cut me off or nearly caused an accident in the car park. She did absolutely nothing to me.

You're dying to know why, aren't you?

It was because of the way she looked.

More specifically, it was because she was thin, well-dressed, and well-groomed. Her hair was perfectly styled, sleek and glossy. Mine is frizzy and in desperate need of a trim (and a style). Her clothes were new and trendy in a grown up and understated way. I have been increasingly shabby looking since Dylan was born. And let's not talk about the way my empty baby bag hangs off the front of me, despite my diligence in attending the gym and watching what I eat.

How shallow was that?

It's a good thing I didn't run into anyone I know there. I probably would have ended up hating them, too.

Really need to work on my bad attitude lately. And maybe do my hair a little more often and wear some lipstick...

Resolved...

2012-01-10T21:37:00.000Z

I don't really do new year's resolutions.

That being said, I've made some this year.

I am going to stop expecting Martin to do stuff on the house, and just get it done myself.

So I've painted the front room.

I'm nearly finished--just about a third of the last wall to go, but I actually DO need some help with it as it requires me to move some serious furniture. And today I sorted out a new number plate for our car (ours was stolen) and bought and fitted some new hinges on our secretaire (Martin did end up helping me with that, but not because I needed him to or asked him to). This is one of the reasons that I've not updated the blog for so long!

I've also resolved to be less controlling and demanding. Not with the kids, mind you. They need to be controlled. Especially Edith right now. Proper little madame, her. No, I'm trying not to be as controlling with my husband. I'm trying not to demand his time and attention, and instead am waiting for it to be volunteered.

Of the two resolutions, the second one is definitely harder. But I think it's important.

Happily, my resolutions don't involve exercising more or going on a diet. My workout routine is firmly established and diets don't work.

Edith the pixie

2011-12-28T21:17:00.000Z

So today Dylan decided he wanted to be the new Nicki Clarke, and Edith got to be his first model. However, I don't think he should settle for this career path just yet, as he really only got a few clumps in very random places, down to about a 1/4 inch. He also decided to do this whilst we were in bed, so you can imagine our faces when we discovered Dylans efforts. Overjoyed is not the word!

So, a trip to CV day spa followed, and some wonderful work by the young lady who works there. Now here is the result:

Martin is responsible for the words above. Here's my take:

Every time I look at Edith I simultaneously want to cry about her hair and beat Dylan for doing it to her. She looks like she's been scalped, and it will take six months (minimum) before she starts to look like a little girl again. I'm furious!

Untitled

2011-12-27T21:42:00.000Z

I'm sitting here alone in my front room feeling all sick and sorry for myself. Then I think of my amazing brother-in-law Blaine and realize that I ought to stop feeling sorry for myself. It's just a little asthma attack. Boo hoo. And it's getting better too. But the healing process seems to be more painful than the actual attack sometimes, with the clearing of the airways and the headache from overdosing/coming off the medication.

Christmas was an amazing day. Seriously, it was so good this year. The kids were well behaved and reasonably un-whiny. Church was good and brief. The gifts were thoughtful and appreciated. The food was amazing. The company was delightful. The only downside was my cold, which effectively masked my asthma attack until we left my in-laws' house. I hadn't realized it was that bad until it was too late. But I'm glad we went there anyway, because we had a fantastic time.

My saintly mother-in-law borrowed a carpet cleaner and they cleaned all their downstairs carpets before we came over. Then they "hoovered" the floor every day until Christmas. The dog was banished to the back room. Her efforts were really appreciated, and it really did help. I was glad to be at hers, eating an amazing Christmas dinner off her good china. Laurie (and Cathy) did all the cooking, and it was a perfect meal. I contributed the Christmas pudding, panettone bread and butter pudding, mince pies, and a cheeseball.

Please see Facebook for more photos, but here are a few highlights:

Wow, it's nearly here!

2011-12-23T08:48:00.000Z

Yesterday was the shortest day of the year. The day that I look forward to even more than Christmas since we moved to England. Dark at 3:30pm is just plain pants, but the days will all get longer from here on out!

I seriously can't believe that Christmas is almost here. I'm not stressing about it--I'm totally ready for it, actually. The gifts are all wrapped, the Christmas pudding is waiting in the cupboard, the mincemeat is maturing. Christmas eve is going to be chilled out and all about making the front room look magical. And cleaning the rest of the house so I'm not grumpy and stressed out on the day.

We've had a really nice week. Dylan's last day at school was Tuesday. Martin had the day off on Wednesday, which was nice. Yesterday we drove over to Penistone (near Sheffield) to visit Noelle in her new house. We made gingerbread houses, and had a wonderful time. Today we are having a birthday lunch for my mother-in-law. Her birthday is on the 25th, and sharing a birthday with Jesus means she doesn't get much of a birthday celebration. We're hoping she'll consent to opening her presents early, so we can celebrate HER instead of Christmas, but that remains to be seen. Then tomorrow the kids and I will be taking our turn to clean the church, baking mince pies and the Mundays (minus Lewis, who is working) will be joining us for a Christmas Eve feast of pizza and oven chips.

Christmas day is going to be busy, as well. Of course, there is the whole opening gifts thing. We'll have Skype up so Grandma Cook can watch the gift orgy. Then we're off for a short church service, and over to the Gilbert grandparents' house for lunch and even more gifts. Whew--I can hardly wait for boxing day. We have nothing planned, so Martin and I can just spend some time together relaxing. We both need it pretty bad. Especially Martin, who has been working 60+ hours a week in the run-up to Christmas. It seems like the whole town have been eating, drinking, and being merry at Stables. He hasn't been home before midnight all month. Bless him!

So there's the schedule and update. Loving this busy time--can't wait to see everyone open their gifts on Sunday. But the thing I'm most looking forward to is Martin's week off work next month. It's so nice when I actually get to have my husband at home and all to myself!

Changes...

2011-12-19T11:17:00.000Z

And these ones are definitely for the better.

Last year, Cathy and I took the kids swimming in Cleethorpes. Edith ran away from me instead of jumping back in the pool when I lifted her out, and I wasn't near a ladder. I tried to lift myself out of the pool where I was, but I couldn't do it. OUCH!

This morning, I swam laps instead of doing my lower body blast at the gym (feeling a bit under the weather). Mid-way through my 45 minute session, I decided to do a little experiment. Guess what--my upper body strength is now good enough that I can lift myself out of the pool.

I was also unable, just a few months ago, to swim across the pool underwater. My lung capacity was so bad that I could barely make it half way. Now I can go all the way across with breath to spare.

I like that my body is starting to be capable of doing all I ask of it again. Especially because I am starting to actually be demanding.

I'm looking forward to January, when I can be all self-righteous with the New Years Resolution gym members. Hah--I've been coming at least three times a week for the past year, you slackers! Try to keep up :)

Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a two-year-old in the house...

2011-12-18T15:37:00.000Z

Edith has finally realized that she is two, and should therefore be acting "terrible."

Boy, when this child makes up her mind about something she doesn't do it by half. Overnight she has turned into a screaming, tantrum-throwing little harridan! We have spent so much of the past two days (and nights, as well) butting heads that I no longer even want to look at her, let alone allow her to sit on my lap or have a cuddle.

The "fun" reached it's peak at 3:30 this morning, when she woke up and started screaming that she wanted to go downstairs. After an unfruitful attempt to get her to go back to sleep, I took her downstairs and deposited her with very little ceremony on the sofa in the dark. I then informed her that the rest of the family were going to sleep (she having rudely awakened all of us) and that she should tell me when she was ready to go back to bed.

10 minutes of screaming later, she told me she wanted to go back to bed.

We didn't hear a peep out of her for the rest of the night. Not until Dylan woke her up at about 7:30am, at which point she promptly started moaning and whining again, and pretty much hasn't stopped all day.

I still remember nearly every moment of my labor with Dylan and Edith both, but I had rather mercifully blocked out how awful the terrible twos can be. This kind of seals the deal--I do not want to have to do this again with another child. I am done.

Now I just hope that Edith is as well!

A new look...

2011-12-15T22:14:00.001Z

I took Edith to Frenchy's today to get her first "proper" haircut.

I also took her to Frenchy's to get her very first ever haircut--just her bangs.

Man, that girl loves being in a beauty salon!

You should have seen her--my wriggly little two-and-a-half year old, perched on that seat for 20 minutes while she not only got her hair bobbed and her bangs trimmed, but also had it round-brushed dry.

She looks so sweet. I'm hoping that when Martin reads this post he will post one of the pictures he took of her (hint hint). She doesn't look like a baby any more. She looks like a big girl now. It makes my heart swell with pride to see her becoming so independent and grown up, at the exact same time that my heart breaks to say goodbye to my little baby.

In other news, Dylan is doing better about Patches. He can talk about him without bursting into tears now, which is a relief. Weirdly, I seem to be the one who is having the hardest time coping. I keep expecting to see him waiting at the window for me to let him in the house. I keep thinking that I'll give him the milk the kids didn't drink at breakfast. I keep looking at his favorite chair, expecting to see him curled up there. Then I remember that he's died, and I get all sad again. I can't stop thinking about his poor broken little body, buried out behind the house in the cold instead of curled up and purring at the foot of my bed, keeping my feet warm while we wait for Martin to come home.

I've had pets before, and lost pets before. We only had Patches for a few months. But he was such a lovely cat, and I honestly miss him more than any other cat I've ever had. I keep thinking about all the things I could have done to keep the accident from happening. I keep hoping that it wasn't him--that another cat who looked a lot like him died that night. I don't know why it's so hard this time.

Goodbye, Patches...

2011-12-13T22:15:00.000Z

We rewarded Dylan's very good behavior at school lately with a trip to the cinema to watch "Puss In Boots," and had a wonderful time. But when we got home, disaster struck.

Patches ran in front of a car just as we were getting the kids out. He died almost instantly.

Martin put his body behind the retaining wall of the house next door so we could get the kids in the house and decide how to deal with the situation. We decided that it would be best to just tell them the truth, and boy was it difficult!

Edith was pretty oblivious, but Dylan was heartbroken. We took them out to see his body and stroke him one last time (there was no blood). Then we buried him out back, said what we would miss about him, and said a prayer. Dylan was sobbing the whole time, and he didn't stop until we put him to bed.

We'll all miss our little cat.

Hooray for English weather!

2011-12-04T17:23:00.000Z

December 2006

December 2011

Both of these photos were taken before heading down to the Lincoln Christmas Market. I am SO happy that I live in a cold, gray, humid country sometimes!

Moving on...

2011-12-01T14:06:00.000Z

Yesterday was a beautiful day.

Ok, so the day itself wasn't that great. Dylan's school was closed, so both kids were home with me all day. I spent the whole day either cooking or cleaning, and tackled the mending pile once the kids had gone to bed. But the nature of the cleaning job was fantastic.

It's official--the kids' toys have all been moved up to their bedroom!

Whew!

I've been looking forward to this day since the moment I discovered I was expecting a second baby and realized my children would only be 19 months apart.

I told the kids we had to get rid of some toys or Santa wouldn't be able to bring them any new ones for Christmas. They were surprisingly helpful and accommodating after that.

Another great thing about yesterday is that I took all of the unwanted stuff to the charity shop. I got rid of a lot of stuff!

I struggle against myself all the time. My mother is a hoarder-big style. Seriously, yo! I've seen the way her garage and bedroom have filled up over the years, and the way it spills over into the house.

My design aesthetic is more, um, sparse. Pretty much, I like my house to look ever so slightly like nobody lives in it. That hasn't been possible for the past 4 years. We're on our way there now!

So I want to get rid of all the "extra" stuff, but I've seen the way that holding onto stuff can come in handy. I've watched my mom go to the garage or the laundry room and pull something out of a box that is EXACTLY right for a last minute project.

I want to have all the benefits of a hoarder, but none of the mess.

So what does this mean? It means I am currently trying to organize everything. And quickly, before this mood goes away!

Thanksgiving

2011-11-26T14:30:00.000Z

We didn't celebrate Thanksgiving on Thursday because Martin was in Manchester. But I gave thanks all the same, because he had an unexpected night off. We spent the evening chilling out together and catching up on Glee. AWESOME!

We will be having our Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow. It was going to be a pretty empty house (or so we thought) so we invited the Mundays over. But it turns out that Martin had told his parents the wrong day, and they will be able to make it after all. So now we have 8 adults and 5 children coming 'round for dinner tomorrow. Eek!

I'm actually pretty excited about it. The house will be bursting at the seams and will feel more like a "proper" Thanksgiving because of it. I love it when the house is full of people that I love. It makes me feel more like I'm at home.

I turned cartoons on for Dylan during Edith's nap, and I got almost all of my prep for tomorrow evening finished. The pumpkin pie is finished, and it looks like it might be my best one yet (for all that it's made from butternut squash instead of pumpkin). The sweet potatoes are parboiled and ready for roasting. The gammon is in the fridge and ready to cook. The turkey is defrosting. The vegetables for the veggie platter are all peeled and chopped. The potatoes are sitting in water, ready to boil & mash. The seasoning is ready for the home-made stuffing, and the bread has been cubed. Did I mention that the bread is home-made? I just need to get some dip, carrots, and green beans from Tesco and all systems are go.

I'm pretty happy to NOT be doing Christmas dinner this year.

Anyway, it's the Barton Christmas fair today, and the kids and I shall be wandering around town looking at all the stalls and seeing the Christmas lights switched on. I can hardly wait for the roasted chestnuts!

The little madame is awake, so I'll sign off for now. Pictures of the Christmas market to come soon!

Waste not, want not...

2011-11-24T18:18:00.000Z

I'm feeling very into reducing, re-using, and recycling today.

I repaired a pair of work-out trousers this afternoon. They had holes in them, so I sewed the holes up and put a patch on where the fabric was wearing thin.

I also made my own facial cleanser, with honey, glycerine, and castile soap.

But my favorite project was the one I did for Edith. Sure, I could have made a kitchen scrubber when my Body Shop loofah bit the dust, but it was a lot of very pink fabric, and it was screaming "TUTU" to me. So I stripped some pretty pink elastic from an old nursing bra of mine, got out the sewing machine, wound a bobbin, threaded the machine, sewed a single seam, threaded the elastic, and now Edith is prancing around the house like a ballerina.

Also done today was a closet clear-out. I've bagged up a small grocery bag full to take to the charity shop and done some pre-emptive layering.

The project for tonight is to deep clean the kitchen and bathroom, then make some laundry powder.

Wow, for some reason I am feeling a bit organic supermom-ish. I'd better get some more stuff done before it wears off and I am back to being a slacker!

Teaser...

2011-11-22T10:20:00.000Z

We might have some good news in a few weeks' time.

It's not that we are selling our house. Just wanted to throw that out there so nobody got their hopes up. I can't go into detail right now, but I'll keep you posted. I'll just say that we got an encouraging phone call yesterday and we'll know more later.

It's a busy week. Tomorrow afternoon and evening are going to be especially interesting, with the kids being given their dinner and put to bed by Alice, our favorite babysitter. It's the first time a non-family member has done the job, and it'll be interesting to see how it goes. We're having to get creative with car usage and kid juggling as well. It's just a small taste of things to come. I don't know how my parents managed to juggle the schedules of 6 kids. They must have had access to a time machine years before CERN announced that time travel IS (theoretically) possible. Must have been the old blue Dodge Caravan.

Hey Velecia, do you remember the time Angie opened the van door at 7-11, it squeaked really loudly, you got embarrassed, and then you punched her? How unsympathetic were we about your teen-aged angst?

Good times!

Gym update: In the past 15 days, I have been to the gym 13 times. Feeling, um, good? No, actually. Mostly just tired, but in a completely self-righteous, albeit sweaty, way!

So yeah, Castledyke Chat today, book club tomorrow, Martin in Manchester on Thursday, swimming with Edith and cinema with Emma on Friday, Barton Christmas Fair on Saturday, my Relief Society lesson and a late Thanksgiving dinner on Sunday. No time to get bored this week :)

All about Dylan...

2011-11-19T08:28:00.000Z

This kid is growing up so fast, and I just wanted to document the way he is right now.

Dylan is in the Reception class at Castledyke School. He loves going to school every day, and I can actually threaten him with having to stay home instead of going to school if he is being naughty. He is especially good at Math. His teacher, Miss Richardson, calls him the class mathematician. He loves numbers and counting, and they have started teaching him number sentences ahead of the rest of his class. He also loves phonics, and is already reading on his own. He sometimes needs help with tricky words, but he can sound out most words on his own. He wants to be a scientist when he grows up.

I am constantly amazed by how smart he is!

Of course, with this intelligence comes a bit of social awkwardness. Dylan still prefers to associate with grown-ups and will only play with children his age if he's told to. But he is very kind to other children, and very friendly. He's also very sensitive. He loves cuddling and is wounded very easily if someone is mean to him. He is especially bad when he is tired--not letting him choose the bedtime story will result in 4-year-old heartbreak!

Dylan is a bit of a scaredy cat. He doesn't like to try new things and he is always very hesitant--with us. If we want him to do something new and daring, we just need to make sure that there are older children around who are doing it. Especially Esaias Munday, who he idolises!

Dylan is a very good helper. He doesn't like to tidy up, but he does help. He is especially sensitive to real need, and when I am not well and need him to do things for me he always does them. One of his favorite jobs is taking the recycling out to the bins. He is also responsible for clearing his own place after meals and putting the cutlery on the table before meals, which he is brilliant at doing.

Ever since he was born, Dylan has been hard work. Nobody can quite put their finger on why that is. He is polite, well-mannered, kind, and intelligent. He is very good at amusing himself if given a little direction. But he is still exceptionally high maintenance.

I adore my son though--watching him grow up is one of my chief pleasures, and I love how he is turning out (so far).

We're doing it!

2011-11-12T22:52:00.000Z

This week, Edith and I went to lunch with Cathy, Grandad, and the Gilbert Great Grandparents. We also went shopping and swimming together. We had drinks and snacks at Stables with Martin.

I am exhausted!

But Edith has been having a great time, and that's what matters. Truth be told, I'm having a great time as well. I love my daughter to distraction and am enjoying taking her out on her own. Mostly because she is MUCH better behaved in public than Dylan was at her age. We can actually have a very nice and civilized meal together in a restaurant and we both love shopping together (as long as I don't actually need to buy anything). She likes to try on accessories...

I have also managed to go to the gym every day this week (except for today--my Zumba class was cancelled). I decided to go early in the morning--about 7:30am. It makes getting Dylan to school on time a bit stressful, but it gives me structure and a schedule. I'm feeling good about my work-outs. I was there twice yesterday. Once for my workout and twice for Water Babies with Edith.

My saintly mother-in-law asked if she could have the kids over every other Saturday, and they were with her today. It was nice to have a few hours to myself. I didn't do anything exciting--just cleaned the kitchen and had a late lunch. But it was still good. I enjoy my outings with the kids, but I still struggle most Saturdays because we don't see Martin at all. He goes in at 11am and doesn't come home until about 1am Sunday. The kids are good company, but I miss my husband.

I've been thinking about the ways I've changed in the past 4 years or so. When Dylan was a little baby, I was still a working girl. I hadn't been on maternity leave for very long, and I was still adjusting (badly) to motherhood. I had lots of interests outside of my home and family. I didn't want to be home alone all day with my new baby, and I needed to be around other adults almost constantly so I wouldn't be bored out of my mind. That's ALL changed now. I am a career home-maker, and my focus is almost completely on what happens within my own home. When told I can't talk about my kids, I find I often have nothing to say. I could quite happily stay in my house and not talk to others for days. My kids are my entertainment, and boy are they good at it!

This has changed the way I interact with other people a lot. I find myself withdrawing from most of the friends I made in my early days of motherhood. Well, most of my friends, really. I very rarely make an effort to see other people, and it doesn't usually bother me. Truth be told, I think I may be slightly agorophobic. But every once in a while I feel the effects. This weekend has been one of those times. I've had a lovely couple of days, but am feeling very isolated. This is when it would be nice to have family nearby.

Jeez--I've been such a negative Nancy lately. Poor, poor pitiful me. Wah, wah, whinge, sob. I have such a wonderful life, and am very lucky and/or blessed. I love my beautiful children and my wonderful husband. We've built a life together here in England. I am genuinely happy about 95% of the time.

Crisis...

2011-11-10T20:47:00.000Z

I'm struggling, religiously speaking.

Church is becoming more and more difficult to attend. We go every week, but Sunday is the only day we can all spend together as a family and it feels like we're wasting it going to three hours of church (plus the round-trip hour long drive). I spend the morning on my own with the kids so Martin can get some extra sleep. Then I spend the afternoon napping so I can recover from the early morning. We hardly see each other. And while we are at church, it's an almost constant struggle to get the kids to sit still and be quiet.

We had a lesson a few weeks ago where we discussed our motives for church attendance. I have been wondering why I go ever since. Right now I just feel like I go because I always have. It's just my Sunday tradition, like the way I always clean the kitchen on Thursdays.

Do I feel like a good Christian? Frankly, no.

I just keep thinking about how much easier things would be if I could be, oh, I don't know, a lapsed Catholic. Church attendance on Easter and Christmas, plus weddings, funerals and christenings. Sundays to ourselves with no time constraints and the chance to go on the occasional family outing.

Don't worry though, Mom. We're still going. Because I know this will pass, and I don't want to jeapordize my spiritual well-being just because I'm tired of not being able to go places as a family.

As Cliff Richard said on Women's Hour, "Having faith is NOT the 'soft option'(Oh yes, now receiving spiritual guidance from an ageing British pop star)."

I will continue to do things the hard way, in the hope that it is worth it in the end.

Poor Edith...

2011-11-08T22:58:00.000Z

Dylan and I used to go EVERYWHERE together. We went swimming two times a week. We went for walks at Water's Edge. We did errands in town. We went to play groups. We were hardly ever home!

Then Edith came along, and the fun trips wound down as I couldn't take both kids anywhere on my own. I knew Dylan had a good run of it, so even though I did feel a bit guilty, it was only a bit.

I swore that when Dylan started school I would take Edith fun places, too. Then she started napping the whole time Dylan was at school so we spent a whole school year going nowhere.

It was shaping up to be that way this year, too. Martin's split shift makes it difficult for me to take Edith anywhere if I want to see him as well. But I've made an executive decision. I need to take my daughter out to do fun stuff.

Sadly, it kind of involves saying, "Screw you, Martin. I'll see you on Sunday." We're going to have to do some juggling and creative scheduling.

I'm a little bit bitter about Martin's work schedule right now. Bonfire night was tough. Martin was working, of course, and I decided to take the kids for a walk to de-sensitize them to the fireworks. We kept passing couples who were walking up to the town's bonfire, and it made me so sad. I am married to the most wonderful man I've ever met. I'm still crazy about him. I think he's kind, funny, intelligent, hard working, and incredibly hot. I have someone, but I still spend most of my time alone. It's kind of pants.

Feeling a bit emotionally needy right now. I just need to shake off this funk and get over it. Martin's job is what it is, and I am glad he even has one! But loneliness is, well, lonely.

Pretty deep, huh? I need to stop waiting up for my husband and just go to bed. Being tired does nothing for my cognitive skills. But I DID just bust out "cognitive." That's got to count for something at 11pm.

Halloween...

2011-11-05T21:21:00.000Z

Carving a couple of pumpkins

Edith having her first real make-up put on

Our Fairy Princess. Martin will be buying a cricket bat in a few years' time to beat the boys away.

Dylan being "Kwazii-fied"

Awwww! How cute are they?

We took the kids trick-or-treating on the way to Dylan's school disco. Then we did a bit more trick-or-treating on the way home. They LOVE Halloween!

A trip to Lincoln...

2011-11-05T20:42:00.000Z

Martin took a few lunch shifts off during Dylan's half term break, and we used one of them to go to Lincoln. We took the train down, which the kids loved. Dylan listened to the Kids playlist on my iPod, and spent a lot of the journey singing along to The Smiths and Bob Marley.

We spent a healthy amount of time watching the swans, before heading up steep hill.

We had a little picnic at the cathedral once we got to the top. Little troopers only stopped once or twice to rest.

They enjoyed the cathedral. They enjoyed the castle, too!

Did you know that one of just two remaining copies of the Magna Carta are at Lincoln Castle? I did. Martin did not. We saw it. It was pretty cool.

Lincoln is such an amazing city. The climb to the topmost tower in the castle is totally worth it for the view.

Homebodies...

2011-10-28T09:00:00.001+01:00

We have totally been rocking the half-term break!

Dylan has been of school all this week, and it's actually been really nice to have him home. For one thing, I haven't had to push us all out the door by 8:45am. Since the kids are up at 6am, you'd think that would be an easy task. Not so much. I think I am the only one in our little family with a desire for punctuality and a sense of urgency.

Anyway, we've gone to the cinema twice, helped a friend pack for her move, gone to the 20/21 gallery, spent the day in Lincoln, and NOT done baths every night. We're all calm and relaxed. I'm not reluctant to send Dylan back to school on Monday morning, but neither am I desperate to get him there.

I peeked...

2011-10-22T08:45:00.000+01:00

I finally had a look at what the surgeon did to my foot on Tuesday, and no wonder it hurts! He didn't just slice it open and root around for the glass--he removed a chunk of my foot about the size of the tip of my pinkie. There's a hole in my foot that's probably half an inch deep.

OUCHIE!

The good news is that I am pain medication free and planning on taking the kids out today. We've been a bit bored for the past 8 days and since I'm drug free now I can drive. Probably.

I've also got talk and a lesson to give in church tomorrow. No rest for the wicked, right?

Dylan learned about Diwali at school last week, and they had a party to celebrate Diwali and breaking up for half-term yesterday. The kids were asked to bring sweet snacks to share with their classmates, so Dylan and Edith helped me make Snickerdoodles. They did the adding and mixing, I did the measuring and the baking once they were in bed. They love helping me bake. Edith loves all cooking, and she is becoming a very good kitchen helper.

Edith also slept with no pull-up on last night. Dry at night--she is officially completely potty trained.

Where is their childhood going?

It's official...

2011-10-19T09:30:00.002+01:00

I am now a legal permanent resident of the United Kingdom!

We got the paperwork on Monday.

Martin has already started harassing me about getting a job.

NOT a rant...

2011-10-19T09:29:00.000+01:00

Martin totally expected me to lambast the NHS after the past few days, but I'm not going to.

Monday was difficult. I was fasting to have surgery. My last food had been just shortly before midnight on Sunday night. My very simple surgery kept being postponed. I was told it had been cancelled at 9:30pm. I hadn't even been allowed a drink of water since 6am. I found it very difficult to be civil to the nursing staff on the Trauma Ward. Martin took me home, and I had to be back in at 7:00 the next morning.

Tuesday was better. I still had to wait until about 4pm, but actually got in to have the surgery. They ended up just doing a local instead of general or spinal, and gave me IV morphine. Oh my, I LOVE that stuff. The OR team thought I was HILARIOUS after they gave me the drugs. They had to hold me on the table while the surgeon removed the glass from my foot.

It took about seven minutes.

I was amazed by how small the piece of glass actually was. It was just in a really bad place for walking--right on my heel where I place my foot when I'm walking.

Anyway, I slept off the pain killers and was discharged at 7:30pm. My ride home got there about 9pm. Home for 10pm, and a good night's sleep. I'm still in pain because they really sliced me to get the glass out, but the wound feels better than the glass did. I should be as good as new in a few days. Just can't walk very well right now, and can't drive at all. I think I'll spend the next two days slightly drugged and holding the sofa down.

So Monday was pants, but yesterday went very well. I was frustrated with the NHS, but understood that my surgery was not critical and others needed to go first. It's just hard to be pleasant when you've been stuck in the hospital with nothing to eat or drink for over 20 hours and then you get bumped. Nobody's fault--just one of those incredibly irritating things...

I DID get to meet a very fun and feisty lady at the hospital. She was 74 years old, a widow of five years with a new boyfriend. She is so in love with him, and her face would light up every time she talked about him. She broke her knee in two places, then mowed the lawn, cleaned the windows, did the ironing, got a bath, and was forced to the hospital by her boyfriend. What a trooper!

Awwwwwwwdorable...

2011-10-17T08:44:00.000+01:00

It was the Primary presentation in Sacrament meeting yesterday. I didn't actually get to watch it as I was roped in to playing the piano (kind of gutted, since it was Dylan's first one), but it was actually adorable. The kids all sang beautifully and did really well with their talks and all their lines. Dylan made me proud with his speaking parts. Obviously, I couldn't tell if he sang or not. Edith made me proud, too. She sat on the stand until the presentation started, like a little angel. Then she sat with Noelle and was extremely good during the program. Martin had to sit with his Primary class on the stand.

The highlights of the program (for me):

Not messing up the piano on "Scripture Power"
When the youngest kids, Dylan included, did "Head, shoulders, knees and toes" to demonstrate wearing modest clothing
When Dylan then lifted his shirt up to his armpits and held it there for a good 30 seconds
The way Dylan was playing with his teacher's necklace and sparkly top and it looked like he was fondling her rather large bosoms for most of the presentation.

Oh yeah, my 4 year old kid basically looked like a big perv.

I love my son!

I spent the weekend very comfortably taking strong pain medication every 6 hours. My pain has subsided quite a bit and I am currently pain pill free, but I am also fasting in preparation for surgery. My heel doesn't hurt very much any more, but I still have to walk carefully and it DOES hurt if I catch it wrong. Martin has encouraged me just to go in for the glass removal so I don't have to walk gingerly for the foreseeable future and won't have to be super careful about shoe shopping to make sure my glass heel doesn't get pushed on wrong. He's right--I should just get it done while we're in England and it's free. I just don't like that they will need to do either general anesthetic or a spinal block. I'm plumping for spinal, because for some reason I think that would be less risky and seem less invasive. And I've already had two successful surgeries with a spinal block, so I know they work very well for me! Just waiting for the hospital to call me in.

All this drama just because of a small piece of glass on the piano room floor. Oh well, at least this wasn't caused by my own rampant stupidity--it is purely an accident. It wasn't even one of us who broke the glass in there--a shelf with glass items on it fell down. Although Martin is the one who put the shelf up...

Ouch!

2011-10-14T20:42:00.000+01:00

This morning at 8:05am, I stepped on a bit of glass. Not only did I step on it, I pretty much ground my heel onto it. One wasted trip to my GP's surgery and a fairly long trip to Accident & Emergency later, I STILL have a shard of glass stuck in my foot. The ENP couldn't get the glass out, even with the aid of local anesthetic and a scalpel!

I'm going to be seeing someone in the orthopedics department, but not until Monday. They think that the glass might work itself out before then, but if it doesn't I will have to go in for a little minor surgery to remove it. In the mean time, I have to walk around with a bit of glass in my foot. Well, not so much walk as hobble. It's incredibly painful.

I'm pretty much stoned right now on the co-codamol they gave me after my c-section. It just about makes the pain bearable. Instead of sharp stabbing, it is more like a dull and constant ache.

Thank goodness for the NHS. Flawed, but awesome all the same. Because my trip to A&E cost me petrol money, and that's it. No ER doctor charge, no charge for the anesthetic, no charge for the x-ray, no charge for the wound dressing, and no charge for the penicillin I was prescribed. Plus, should I require minor surgery there will be no charge for that, either.

I learned today that U.S. residents who come over DO pay a small fee for NHS services--£72, whether it's x-rays on a broken leg or emergency surgery. Pretty amazing though, huh? I know plenty of people who'd love to only pay roughly $100 in total for a hospital visit.

I'm feeling very blessed today. My wonderful husband took time off work to get me to the hospital, and he came home to help me get the kids into bed tonight. My gorgeous kids quite happily watched a movie and ate popcorn this evening while I kept my feet up. And I'm loving the drugs. I don't take pain relief very often, but I'm glad it's available when I need it.

Losing my religion...

2011-10-11T18:27:00.000+01:00

About two weeks ago, Dylan informed me that they say a prayer in school every day at Assembly. I was furious!

I was never opposed to all prayer in schools. A lot of us would say prayers together before drill team competitions, volleyball games, plays and the like. But I AM against the entire school coming together and praying.

It's not like I am against prayer. We have taught both our children to pray. I'm just worried that he's learning the "wrong" kind of prayers.

I was actually that parent who spoke to his teacher about it at parents' night--demanding to know all the details and asking why I wasn't informed they were doing it. After all, it's a State school, not a Church of England school. She actually offered to take him out of the room during the prayer if I felt it necessary.

Isn't that funny? We probably go to church more in one week than most of the people at his school go to in a year, and I'm the one who pitched a (mini) fit about prayers in Assembly...

Maybe I'm too American in this regard. I was raised to believe in a separation of Church and State, and anything other than that just seems wrong.

At any rate, I am not making Dylan leave Assembly for prayers. I am just informed now, so I can do religious damage control at home if needs be. I want him praying the way I teach him, not the way his school Head teaches him.

I can't wait to get Dylan in an American school. NOT because they are superior to English schools, mind you. Just because I am more familiar with what goes on over there than I am over here. It's all so, well, foreign!

Dylan, you must be from the Caribbean...

2011-10-08T18:35:00.000+01:00

...'cause Jamaican me crazy!

Seriously, I love my son. He's cute, gorgeous, and too smart for his own good. But the kid is bugging the crap out of me right now. He's going through this really whiny phase at the minute, and he is EXCEPTIONALLY needy when Martin is at home. He's also becoming quite pedantic, which is bad news for his sister. Poor Edith gets shouted at when she says anything wrong, and she's only 2 years old. It makes for a pretty long Saturday.

I'm struggling to get through the evenings at the minute. Don't know why, but I have been very short tempered of late. I'd blame it on PMS, but thanks to my Mirena, I have no menstrual cycle to speak of. Which leads me to believe that it's not me, it's them.

I wish I could be a loving and besotted parent all the time, but the truth is that while I always love my kids, I spend quite a lot of time not liking them very much. Some days are a success if I manage to not shout at them.

Today was not a success.

Also, I take a sick pleasure in tormenting Dylan with things he is irrationally afraid of. Like refusing to turn off "Mr. Maker" when the shapes come on and turning on the vacuum before he has a chance to get to the sofa. Does that make me a sadist, a bad parent, or both?

Please don't call social services on me. I'll be nicer to them tomorrow.

Promise!

Unauthorized...

2011-10-05T08:21:00.000+01:00

The Head at Dylan's school wouldn't authorize his absence to go to London and see his American grandparents. Dilemma? Not really. We spent Sunday and Monday in London with Mom, Dad, and Uncle Jace.

It was so nice to see my parents and little brother. We drove down as soon as the kids woke up on Sunday morning and arrived about 4 hours later, at 11am. We went into the city on the tube (the kids loved it!), got some lunch in China Town, went to the British Museum, saw the (closed) Hyde Park church building, chilled in Hyde park, headed back to the hotel, took the kids swimming, ate pizza in our room, and then attempted to go to bed.

Basically, we paid the Sheraton for the privilege of NOT sleeping in their rooms. Monster kids were up about every 30 minutes all night long.

We got up bright and early the next morning and had breakfast with the family. Then we said our goodbyes and Martin took them to the airport. They had a 10am flight to catch.

It was hard to say goodbye again after such a short visit, but I was so tired that I didn't get emotional. Autopilot doesn't have a "tears" mode.

The kids had a really good time with their American family. They were especially taken with their uncle Jace, and demanded that he hold their hands almost the whole time. He was really good with them. They were happy to see their grandparents, as well. The highlight for mom seemed to be when Edith fell asleep in her arms and she carried/held her for the next 30 minutes.

The whole visit was so brief that it still feels almost like it never happened. But it was so lovely to see them, and it made me homesick all over again.

When Martin got back from the airport we drove to Cockfosters, which is the northernmost stop on the Picadilly line of the London Underground, and only about 3 miles from the M25 junction with the A1(M), our main road home. It took about 40 minutes. Then we got back on the tube and took the kids in to the city again to do a bit more sightseeing. This time we took them to Hamley's, a gigantic toy store with really cool stuff. They each got one small toy there. Then, about 2 hours later, we took them to the science museum. The first floor we went to was a bust, but then we went up to the top floor and had a great time. There were giant periscopes, a bubble wall, experiments with viscous fluids, dry ice, sound waves, infrared cameras, Archimedes screws, arches, centrifugal force, etc. It was all hands on and very brilliant. We looked at our watches and it was already 4:30pm, so we made a mad dash to the underground and made it out of London just in time to beat the rush hour commute. Straight out the gate at Cockfosters and onto the motorway, we went home without any drama or delay. Well, other than a small tail-back near Welwyn. We made it home at 9:15pm, and the kids happily settled into their own beds. They had slept most of the drive home, but still slept until 6am the next morning.

And now we are back into our routine. Well, I am behind on the house work. But everything else is back to normal now.

We should totally do this every year, mom and dad!

So happy together...

2011-09-28T22:58:00.000+01:00

Martin and I celebrated our 10th anniversary last week, and it was such a good time!

I wanted to go abroad for our anniversary, but the Home Office still has our passports, so we couldn't leave. Martin did the next best thing, and took me to Wales.

Let me tell you, it may be in Great Britain but it is definitely a foreign country. The road signs are all in Welsh, the people in the village we stayed in all spoke it, and it was amazingly beautiful!

There aren't enough superlatives in the dictionary for me to describe how wonderful I thought Wales was.

I can't believe Martin and I have been married for a decade. Sometimes it feels like longer, but most of the time I don't know where the time has gone.

Seriously, I love him even more now than I did 10 years ago. There is still nobody I'd rather be with than him. I have the best husband in the whole world--he is perfect for me!

Llandeilo

2011-09-22T09:40:00.001+01:00

So here we are, ten years together and still smiling (or is that a grimace!?) either way, still having fun!

Accessorize, darling!

2011-09-20T21:47:00.001+01:00

Edith likes to accessorize - with all of them! Not quite sure she quite had the whole coordination thing going on, but it was a credible effort, and she did have fun!

Must be able to cook, clean, and sew...

2011-09-20T21:33:00.000+01:00

I have decided what my dream job would be. It doesn't require a degree, or even a high school diploma. It wouldn't necessitate being able to type, use the Microsoft Office suite, do data entry, or really even have good "people skills." I wouldn't demand a high wage, just room and board as compensation.

I want to be a 19th century farm wife.

I am envisioning a large kitchen with an enormous wooden farmhouse table, a massive wood burning stove, cold running water, and a huge pantry full of buckets of lime to keep the moisture down, salted, cured pork, and home preserved foods. Fruits and vegetables like jewels in shiny glass jars, and a chipped vase of wild flowers on the table.

Yeah, I'm totally digging that.

I have big plans for when we move back to Utah, though I've started working toward them here.

I want to have an amazing garden. Not just a pretty one, though. I want everything in my garden to be edible as well as beautiful. I don't just want shade trees--they will need to be either fruit or nut trees. I want living fences made of trained apple and pear trees. I want decoratively planted vegetables and edible flowers, with scented herbs.

We have such limited space in our little garden here, but we had quite a few vegetables and even a bit of fruit from it. Just imagine what we could do with a bit more space and a lot more sunshine.

By the way...

I baked some more bread today, and last time was not a fluke. It looks a bit wonky, but tastes fantastic. I could totally do that farm wife thing. Maybe.

fetch, kids, fetch!

2011-09-19T18:35:00.002+01:00

At the park right now, and it is the little things in life that give us the biggest smiles. We are trying to get walnuts from a tree and I am throwing sticks. And the kids run right after them. Like a couple of little puppies. And they keep doing it. We are doing everything we can not to pat them on the head and say "good boy/girl"!

Succinct...

2011-09-17T17:24:00.000+01:00

Am I becoming too wordy? I was contemplating in the shower this morning (where I always do my best thinking) as I had been writing my bread making post just prior.

So I'm wondering--and expecting at least SOME of you to comment--which is better; that post, or this one...

One in the Oven...

I baked a loaf of bread for the first time in nearly 5 years today. I used to bake when we lived in Utah, with lots of success. But I struggled when we moved here, then I had two kids and was reluctant to be in the middle of kneading when a kid emergency needed my attention.

Mostly, though, I was afraid of more failure.

I read a tip about bread making a few months ago, and with Dylan in school all day now I decided to give it a go. Result? Practically perfect (though not as good as yours, I'm sure) French bread.

Next up? Sourdough bread.

Wish me luck...

Next up; the way I had to re-learn LOADS of skills when we moved to England!

One in the oven...

2011-09-17T17:18:00.000+01:00

No, this is not an announcement. My recent hormonal rantings have nothing to do with a pregnancy--my husband won't allow it because he hates me (just kidding...about the hating part. He really won't let me have another baby).

This is all about bread, because yesterday I baked THE BEST FRENCH BREAD I HAVE EVER MADE.

No big deal, right?

Wrong.

Before we moved to England, I used to make home-made French bread about once a fortnight. It was good, too. I got the recipe from a vintage (old) Betty Crocker cookbook, and it turned out nearly perfect every time. Then I moved over here, and it's like my baking skills flew out the window. I even got the old recipe off my lovely sister who has all my stuff, thinking that my recipe I was using over here was just pants. But no, it was me.

I got a bread maker off Freecycle a couple of years ago, and that has been good. But I really enjoy baking bread because the process is nice, not just for the bread. Plus, hand made tastes better. Maybe it's because of the dirt on your hands while you knead it?

Anyway, I haven't given bread a go since before Dylan was born. Actually, I think the last bread I made was the November before he was conceived. How weird is that, that I remember my last loaf of bread with that much accuracy? I also recall that it was chili and goat's cheese flatbread in the shape of a leaf.

Part of me has been worried about having to stop in the middle of mixing and kneading to wipe a bottom, clean up a spill, or break up a fight. Part of me has just been unwilling to try again since I had been failing so miserably before.

Yesterday, while Dylan was at school, I asked Edith if she wanted to make some bread with me. She said yes, because she loves helping me cook. I was making beef stew, and wanted some crusty French bread to go with it. So while the beef was simmering in stock with onions, garlic, crushed mustard seed, bay, and fenugreek, Edith and I started mixing.

I remembered reading a tip on breadmaking a few months ago. This baker said that you would reach a point during the kneading process when the dough would feel too sticky and you would be tempted to add more flour, but you should not. Just keep kneading and it will come out right. Add more flour and your bread will be heavy. I took the advice, and the bread was nearly perfect.

Though, in the spirit of humility, probably not as good as someone else's would have been.

Anyway, it must have been good. Edith ate about half a loaf of it on her own. Of the two loaves I baked yesterday, there is only 1/2 a loaf left.

Edith and I both had a good time, and I am sensing many happy bread making days to come. I might even try my hand at sourdough, since I am always interested in being able to survive if civilization as we know it were to end tomorrow. No more yeast, no more baking powder (unless someone can tell me how to make your own?)--sourdough is it, man.

Reflection...

2011-09-15T09:49:00.000+01:00

I don't spend a lot of time thinking about myself.

Ok, that sounds like I'm about to launch into a self-righteous tirade about how my life is completely dedicated to other people and I am completely self-sacrificing. Hang with me--that's not what it's about.

While it's true that I, as a mother, don't spend a lot of time thinking about myself and doing things for myself, I don't mind that. If I was, say, a stockbroker or a teacher or a banker or any other sort of professional, it would be the same. Being a housewife and a mother is my job, so that's naturally what my focus is all about. Mine carries over into every aspect of my life, but anyone who is very dedicated to their work will have the same thing happen. I'm not unusual in that regard.

The thing is, I spend a lot of my time doing rather than thinking. I am too busy preparing meals to think about whether or not I am a good cook. I am too busy dealing with laundry to worry about my skills as a laundress. I DO spend a lot of time thinking about how I'm raising my children, but only in order to do a better job at it.

Am I selfish? You bet. I'm mostly worried about my family. That one little word--"my"--makes me selfish. If they weren't mine, I wouldn't worry about them.

What I don't do is take a lot of time to think about the way others perceive me. Until someone tells me what a bad person I am. Then, it seems to be all I can think about.

I hate that.

Yes, I am a neurotic freak who is still obsessing over the comments my "frenemy" made a few weeks ago. I should let it go, but I can't.

I still feel sick inside when I remember reading those words, "no wonder nobody goes out of their way to hang out with you." And I wonder what kind of a person the world thinks I am.

Introspection isn't really my bag, baby. I don't like being forced to examine my own behavior. Because now every move I make, every word I speak, everything I don't do, has to be analyzed. I can't even use Facebook or my blog with impunity. I have to worry that what I am writing will make me seem arrogant. Or worse, like I am complaining about my life or making fun of my husband.

But the bottom line is this:

I don't think I am better than anybody else. I don't have a perfect life, but nobody does. I am luckier than most. If I DO brag, it is unintentional. I just like to celebrate when I get something right, because it's a very rare occurrence.

If this makes me a bad person, so be it.

To my frenemy I say, "Forget you (that's the edited version, by the way). If you don't like me, fine. If you want to pretend to be my friend, fine. If you want to hang out or you need a favor, that's fine too. Feel free to call. But I have un-friended you on Facebook and I have deleted your phone number from my contacts. My children love me and my husband adores me, and I don't need you.

"I have to be me, whether that makes me arrogant, pushy, and nasty or not. I will be myself, and stop worrying about how the rest of the world sees me. Because I AM selfish. My own tiny world that consists of me, my husband, my children, and a few select friends is the only world that matters to me. And, dear frenemy, you are not a part of it."

Big words.

Now I hope I can make them stick.

Clumsy...

2011-09-13T21:40:00.000+01:00

I totally just tripped over the ironing board, knocked the hot iron onto my carpet, and melted it a little bit. I reckon my husband won't notice if I just place some of his dirty clothes over the scorch mark and don't move them for a few weeks.

Maybe I can blame this one on the kids.

Hmmm...

I don't think he could stay mad at these two for very long...

Norfolk: heading home...

2011-09-13T14:20:00.000+01:00

Breakfast, clean-up, tent down, then a trip to the beach.

Sugar and spice and everything nice. That's what this little girl is made of!

It was a gray day, so we didn't put him in his swimming suit. Luckily, he was wearing boxer style briefs. Nothing wrong with a little kid swimming in his pants, right?

Then it was home, and trying to rest from all of our "fun."

It was good to get back.

Norfolk: day two, part two...

2011-09-13T14:09:00.000+01:00

After a long drive via Cromer (gorgeous), we woke the kids up at Bewilderwood.

This is kind of how we all felt!

We all enjoyed the 30 minute story time, but Edith was too afraid of the Crocklebog to get her picture taken with it.

Zip lines, which Edith and the boys really enjoyed. I said, no thanks!

Giant spider web.

Massive tree houses, rope bridges, slides, and fun. This place was seriously magical. Except for the poo accident, which saw me cleaning mess off all of Edith's clothes in a public toilet. That wasn't cool.

Norfolk, day two part one...

2011-09-13T07:54:00.000+01:00

When we woke up the next morning (at 6am, thanks to Master Dylan John) the tide was in. We made breakfast (corned beef hash), got cleaned up (Edith hates showers--did I mention that?), and walked in to Wells-Next-The Sea (did you like the Oxford comma, Krys?) Check out my daughter's wicked-long legs!

Enlarge this photo for a fab view of the quayside in the village.

Too bad the pirate ship was closed until 11:30am, or we could have had crepes there...

Norfolk is famous for crabs--luckily, the kind you eat. We watched half the county catching them on the quayside, and the kids were fascinated! They also had these very groovy purpose-built nets...

We all rode the light railway back to the campsite--it was the highlight of the day for Dylan. So far...

Norfolk, day one, part two...

2011-09-10T21:10:00.000+01:00

The beach. It was amazing!

Slightly botched attempt at a landscape photo, but the beach huts still look cool (Martin took the photo, not me).

Trampoline time.

For mom, as well.

After our walk on the beach, jumping on the trampoline, and icecream, we made dinner at the camp site and attempted bed time. It was a long night that didn't involve much sleeping.

Norfolk, day one...

2011-09-10T20:55:00.000+01:00

Stopping off for lunch, somewhere near Boston--that's Lincs, not Mass.

Edith was a little bit miffed that Dad and Dylan stole Miffy for cuddles.

Setting up the tent was tough--it was borrowed and we'd never seen what it was supposed to look like. Plus, it was super windy. But the kids (and half the campground) had a good laugh, and we got it done. Eventually.

The kids' section of the tent. This is the longest that Edith spent on her air mattress. So where did she sleep, I hear you asking?

In here, with me and Martin, on our tiny double airbed. NIGHTMARE.

But at least we didn't get cold!

Legoland Discovery Centre...

2011-09-10T20:43:00.000+01:00

Dylan and his bestie, Buzz Lightyear, made entirely from Lego!

Saving the dragon eggs on the laser ride.

Lego heaven--a giant pool full of the stuff!

A miniature Lego Cumbria.

Hiding in Lego Darth Vadar's cloak. Edith is peeping over his shoulder (if you look really closely).

Dylan's birthday...

2011-09-10T20:24:00.000+01:00

Birthday morning, opening presents on mom and dad's bed.

Edith was very interested in the whole affair.

She was pretty pleased when Dylan asked her to open his blowpop.

Loving those new Lightening McQueen slippers!

Random...

2011-09-10T20:11:00.000+01:00

No idea why my daughter looks totally stoned here, but I like the picture anyway.

Noelle took Dylan skating as a birthday treat. They had a great time, and he took a 3 hour nap afterwards!

A party at the childrens' centre, with my little tiger and butterfly. Oh, and Artie. He's the one with the long neck.

So grown up now...

2011-09-07T22:13:00.001+01:00

Today was Dylan's first day of all-day school. We took him over for 8:50am and picked him up at 3:15pm. He had such a good time--he woke up at his usual 6am and got himself dressed in his uniform. Martin did his packed lunch at 6:30. When I got up at 7:15, he was ready to go.

After we dropped him off, Martin and I took Edith shopping.

We had a delightful day. It was so quiet in the house, and I remembered how much easier it is to only have one child at home. When Martin got home, the house was immaculate, the laundry was caught up, my hair and make-up were done, and Edith had been reading a book instead of watching telly.

Don't get me wrong--we missed Dylan. From here on out, Dylan will only spend about 5 waking hours a day at home with me and Martin. That's terrifying to me, that I am trusting the school system to teach him and take care of him that much. I can actually see why so many parents choose to home-school their kids. I would never do it, but I can understand it. I'm just going to have to make every moment count.

Edith and I are going to have a good time together. She will finally get the one-on-one attention she's never had. At least until April, when she'll get her 3 year funding and start going to nursery for 15 hours a week. Then I'll probably have to get a job.

Pants!

How strange, that if we were in the U.S. right now, Dylan wouldn't be in school at all. He loves it so much, and was completely ready to go. Edith is already excited to go to school, as well. I wonder how much of that is because of their nature and how much is because of the school system over here.

And speaking of precocious children, Edith is now potty trained. She is still sleeping in a pull-up, but she is actually dry most mornings already. It took approximately 3 days to potty train her, but I didn't want to post about it in case I jinxed the whole thing. I will probably only need to buy one more pack of pull-ups, and then we will be done with diapers.

I am so proud of how grown up my children are. They just get more wonderful with each passing day.

Having just said that, I'm pretty sure tomorrow will be a bad day and I'll wish I could take it all back.

Manic!

2011-09-06T08:23:00.000+01:00

We've had the most insane week ever.

Martin had the week off, we went on holiday, and did DIY in preparation for a house viewing today. It doesn't sound very busy, does it? But the holiday was a camping one, and the DIY involved plastering and painting the stairwells and landings, the fireplace in the dining room, one wall in the bathroom, and a wall and part of the ceiling in the kitchen.

First of all, we had some insanity and a totally wasted day trying to get an air compressor to machine plaster our walls. To make a very long story short, Martin started out at 10am and drove all over Hull and Scunthorpe, making multiple purchases and returns, only to find out at 6pm that his dad had an air compressor sitting at home in his garage. It was a bad day for everyone.

Wednesday involved the actual plastering--or most of it anyway--and having our home teachers and my book club ladies over. That was stressful, too. We had to do some hard work, followed by enough cleaning to have company over. We probably should have kept working, in hindsight. Oh well--Martin got to go to the cinema and I had a great visit with the book club. We'd read Amy Chua's "Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother," and the discussion was interesting.

Thursday morning (after some frustrating last minute packing) we headed out in the car for our holiday destination--Norfolk. We stayed just outside a village called Wells-next-the-sea, which was charming and lovely. I'll write more about our Norfolk adventures later, as I need some time to do them justice. For now, I will just say that I found Norfolk wonderful in every way. Far superior to Lincolnshire, which is really saying something, considering how much I love my home here.

Anyway, we came home on Saturday and have been working on the house ever since. Well, except for Sunday night when the Mundays came over. We had a great visit. Yesterday was especially productive, with several ongoing projects being finished.

Martin is back at work in 2 1/2 hours, so now I have to clean everything for the viewing by myself. But I have quite a while to do it, so it's ok. A big job, considering all the plaster dust I've got to clean up, but manageable.

I hope this viewing is the one that sells the house, but if it doesn't that's ok with me. The house is starting to look really lovely. In fact, I'd almost hate to sell it after all the work we've put in.

Almost!

Fingers crossed, everyone...

Birthday boy...

2011-08-31T08:29:00.000+01:00

My baby is 4 years old--I can hardly believe it!

Dylan celebrated his birthday on Monday, and it was a great day for everyone. He started it out by opening his presents in mom and dad's bedroom (both kids are big fans of playing on our bed), and he loved his presents. He got a great package from his Auntie Angie and Uncle Greg (and kids) that had some lollies (opened in minutes), Spiderman socks (delighted), and 3 Power Ranger toys (took them with us in the car and played with them the whole way to Manchester AND back). He also got a few Lego bits and pieces and some Lightening McQueen pajamas, slippers, and a dressing gown.

It ws just cereal for breakfast, but it seems to be his favorite breakfast food. Then we got an early start because we were meeting his grandparents and auntie and uncle at the Trafford Centre in Manchester. Dylan had no idea where we were going, but he was pretty excited about the surprise.

The trip over was eventful. Not in a bad way, just in an annoying way. We left on time and were cruising along roughly 20 minutes ahead of our other party members. Then Dylan had to pee. In the absence of motorway services, we found a place to pull over so he could go at the side of the road. Got back on the motorway without any problems--this time. 10 minutes later, he told us he needed to poo. Once again, no motorway services. So we pulled off the motorway (again). Dylan got his trousers and pants, um, slightly dirty this time (dad needs to practice his sitting down hold). We also couldn't get back onto the motorway and Google Maps was having issues on Martin's phone, so we ended up getting to the Trafford Centre about 15 minutes AFTER the other car. And we decided never to give our kids Froot Shoots at the beginning of a long drive again.

Anyway, we scarfed down a quick lunch at Pizza Hut and then jogged through the mall to get to our destination in time for our timed ticket entry.

LEGOLAND DISCOVERY CENTRE!

We walked in and Dylan gazed around with wonder and awe. He said, "Dad, everything's made of Lego." And Martin said, "That's because this is Legoland, Dylan." The look on his face was totally priceless.

We spent the next 3 1/2 hours wandering around Legoland. Both kids had so much fun. Cathy and John weren't having quite as much fun, John having celebrated the 8-2 Manchester United win over Arsenal a bit too enthusiastically the night before (he left early for a bit of the hair of the dog...), but I think we all had a nice time. The highlight, for me anyway, was taking him to the 4-D cinema for the short Bob the Builder show. Dylan kept his 3-D goggles on the whole time, and watching him duck and swat at things was so much fun. It even snowed (bubbles) at the end of the film. And there was a falling birdhouse with "dust" from a smoke machine. When that one happened, Dylan actually asked me if it had fallen on us!

He opened some more gifts at Nanna's car. He got more Lego and a Buzz Lightyear dress-up costume. We grabbed some dinner at McDonald's and started the drive home. He was asleep within 15 minutes. He slept until Leeds, where we woke him up to take him to the new Krispy Kreme doughnuts shop. Oh yes, there's a Krispy Kreme next to Ikea. Edith and I will be spending many a happy day over in Leeds when Dylan starts school again!

Anyway, we got home just in time to throw the kids into bed. We were all exhausted and happy. And when we asked Dylan if he'd had a nice birthday he said, "It was BRILLIANT!"

The best part is, some of his gifts hadn't arrived yet. So he got to open another present yesterday (from me and Martin) and will get to open two more packages from America. Those should get here today or tomorrow. He gets to celebrate his birthday for a whole week!

I love taking my children to places that I know they'll enjoy. I love watching them have a good time. I told Dylan that my favorite part of the day had been watching him have a good time, and it was true. I love giving them gifts, too. I guess I just love to see them happy.

Dylan and I were talking the other day about his birthday being a special day for me, too. I told him that it wasn't until he was born that I became a mom. Before that, I was just Jamie. So I thanked him for being born and making me a mommy. And he smiled the most beautiful smile--the one that means he knows how special he is to me. The one that means he knows his worth.

The last four years have been some of the happiest of my life!

Overkill

2011-08-24T19:51:00.000+01:00

I know, I know. I've already posted today. But this is much more exciting than potty training my 2 year old.

We seem to have acquired a cat.

It showed up this morning and was really affectionate with the kids. He looked really hungry and he wasn't wearing a collar, so we decided to feed him some lunchmeat from the fridge. I wanted to call him Schroedinger, but Dylan decided he looks more like a Patches.

He came back at lunch time for some more food and a few cuddles.

He also came back at dinner time for some more of the same.

So after we finished our dinner, the kids and I went to Lidl and bought some cat food.

Just now, when I put the kids to bed, Patches wandered into their bedroom and said a quick goodnight.

I am so torn. I'd love the kids to have a pet, and I have always preferred cats to dogs. But our stay here isn't permanent, and I don't want them to get attached. Plus, I don't want an inside pet (purely for allergy reasons). But the kids both LOVE him, and they are having such a good time playing with him and watching him. And Patches is a really good-natured and affectionate cat--very good with the kids.

It was nice to have someone to talk to once the kids were in bed, too.

Not for the faint-hearted...

2011-08-24T11:27:00.000+01:00

We are potty training Edith, and it is a dirty job!

It's also a huge leap of faith, and a big deal for anyone who has a weak stomach or values their carpet.

Think about it--you are taking the diaper off a very young child and trusting that they'll have the bladder control necessary to NOT wet or soil your carpet. You're counting on someone who just BARELY learned to speak to tell you when they need to pee. And you are preparing to scrub your floors with heavy-duty disinfectant!

Edith had her first pooping accident yesterday. Thankfully, Martin was at home to help me deal with it. He cleaned up the solid waste and our daughter. I got to spray down the rug. Martin scrubbed the carpet. NASTY!

And, sadly, three things crossed my mind when I saw the not-so-little present Edith had left for us. The first thing was, Oh. $h*% (literally). The second was, how did she ever get THAT out of her tiny bottom. The third was, maybe I should stop giving her so much fruit for the next month.

Life gets very weird when you have children.

Sometimes I really miss having cats.

Humber Bridge Country Park...

2011-08-19T23:04:00.000+01:00

Brocklesby estate walk...

2011-08-19T22:57:00.001+01:00

Sutton-on-Sea...

2011-08-19T22:52:00.002+01:00

Normanby Hall...

2011-08-19T22:48:00.000+01:00

Why I love England, reason #759

2011-08-19T08:31:00.000+01:00

Yesterday we went to the dentist. We have a big family appointment every six months with Dentist Steve over in Hessle (just outside of Hull).

Everyone was cavity free and the kids were GREAT for their checkups. Martin and I also got a quick de-scale and polish, which I haven't had done since we moved here in 2005. It made me think...

Dental care is not as good here as it is in the U.S. I'm not being negative about England--just stating a fact. Americans are notorious for being "obsessed" with teeth. But knowing that the care is not as good has encouraged me to take better care of my teeth. So the reason I love England is that the dental care has made me take more responsibility for myself.

Oh, and we get it for free because of our very low income.

After our dentist appointment, the kids and I dropped Martin off at the train/bus station and we went on a picnic. I took them to the Humber Bridge Country Park, which is the park on the Yorkshire end of the Humber Bridge. It was amazing!

The picnic was average, but I bought strawberries (which Edith ate her own weight in) and crisps (which Dylan went mad for), so the kids were happy. Then we went for a wander and explore, because we'd never been there before. We discovered a local nature reserve down in an old quarry site. I have never seen anything so beautiful, mysterious, and peaceful. I got some lovely pictures, which I will try to post later.

So that is the other reason I love England--and the one that I always come back to. It is so beautiful here. I want to move home more than anything, but that's only because my family is in Utah. I would happily stay in England forever if they would just move here with me. I love the health care system, the culture, the history, the cities, the countryside. Man, I even love the weather. Most of the time.

This day 4 years ago was my due-date for Dylan. Kind of wild. I can hardly believe it's been 4 years since then. I remember how anxious I was to have him. I was so heavily pregnant and miserable. I hadn't slept properly in weeks and my whole body ached. My ankles had disappeared. My pelvis was seperating and rolling over in bed at night was an agonizing 5 minute process. Dylan would get massive hiccups and I could feel his head banging against the bones in my pelvis. I was waking up at 4am every morning to pee. And, though I didn't know it then, I had 10 days to go.

It seems like yesterday and a decade ago all at once. Did I ever NOT have children?

Some excitement on the Edith front. Yesterday she went diaper free for 2 hours with no accidents. She finally did a proper pee on her potty, too. Her bladder control is excellent, though she continues to show no interest in being potty trained. She just prefers to wear diapers. I think she is lazy and likes them for convenience. But she also told me when she was pooping--not after, but just before and during. It's a good sign, right?

I'm finally seeing the light at the end of my 4 year long bottom wiping tunnel, and it's looking pretty good!

The old tricks are still the best...

2011-08-17T16:05:00.000+01:00

When Dylan was a baby, he would not sleep during the day if we were in the house. Let me tell you, it was torture. If I wanted him to have a nap, I had to take him for a walk or a drive. And the second we walked through the door, he would wake up. I was exhausted, and I never got anything done in the house. Ever.

I tried EVERYTHING to get him to sleep. And I got so tired of people saying, "Well, have you tried ...(fill in the most obvious solution here)?"

So one day when I bumped into an old co-worker of Martin's, I nearly shut out her suggestion. But it was something I'd never tried before and it was worth a shot. She said, "Have you tried lying down with him when you put him down for a nap?"

I tried it.

It worked.

Life became much more restful and I became a much better mother and nicer person.

Last night, Martin took Dylan to a football match. It was Leeds v. Hull at Elland Road, and kick-off was 7:45pm. We told Dylan that he could only go if he promised to have a nap the next day. The kid wakes up at the same time every morning, regardless of what time he got to sleep. He promised, but went back on it today. So I tried the old trick from when he was a baby.

He fell asleep in my arms.

That was nearly 2 hours ago.

It was beautiful.

With friends like these...

2011-08-16T19:53:00.000+01:00

...who needs enemies.

No clever puns or plays on words. Just that.

I think I have a "frenemy," and I have been reminded over the last few days why I always preferred to have male friends.

This friend of mine always makes me feel like a bad person when I talk to her. And it always has to be me who contacts her. She humiliates me on public forums (like Facebook--not private messages, but on her Wall). She told me that she'd seen my husband cheating on me.

So why do we stay friends? I really like hanging out with her. She's fun, smart, witty, and intelligent. Once upon a time, we were really good friends.

Or maybe I just don't want to admit that my initial judgment of her could have been so wrong.

I can't stand "girl games." I've never been able to. Even Martin was surprised by the way that I don't do passive-aggressive guilt tripping and barbed compliments. For the longest time, he would assume that I was playing little mind games with him. But I say what I mean, and I mean what I say--and I assume that other people do the same. This is a good thing, but it's left me ill-equipped when it comes to dealing with people who DO like to play games.

I don't understand why you'd even remain "friends," whether on Facebook or in real life, with someone you didn't like. If she doesn't like me, she should just tell me so, un-friend me, and move on. It would be an easy thing to delete her mobile number from my contacts. I have a very busy (if somewhat dull) life and wouldn't miss the barbed compliments, accusations of nastiness, public humiliation, highlighting of character flaws, and lies about my husband's fidelity.

Why are women so horrible to other women?

On the flip side, I had a lovely couple of girlie hours with Emma today (so now you know it's not her)! The kids went to Hall Farm with their grandparents, so Emma and I had a garra fish pedicure, shopped at the local charity shops, and got some lunch. She reminded me of why it's nice to have girlfriends. She is such a lovely person--a genuinely kind, caring woman who I really admire.

Obviously, though, I like my "frenemy" as well. Otherwise, what she said wouldn't bother me. Because, quite honestly, I don't give a toss what most people think of me. Just the ones I care about.

Ugh. The politics of friendship are so complicated. It makes me just want to lock my door and only hang out with my children. They are so simple and honest. They don't have any ridiculous social filters yet, and they ALWAYS tell the truth.

Knights and fairy princesses...

2011-08-12T21:43:00.002+01:00

Stupid lungs...

2011-08-12T20:46:00.000+01:00

I'm recovering now from a nearly 4 week long bout with cold, asthma, and, as diagnosed on Tuesday, bronchitis. Thank heaven for antibiotics!

Generally speaking, I am a very healthy person. Carrying a few extra pounds, yes, but quite healthy. It's always my lungs that let me down. If I get any sort of illness that involves my respiratory system, my asthma flares up. Then my immune system becomes weak, and before you can say "bunch of munchy crunchy carrots," I have a chest infection of some kind.

I mean, seriously, 4 weeks of illness because of a stupid summer cold?

Martin has been great, though. Yesterday he took the morning off. He couldn't take care of me, but he did the next best thing. He took the kids out to the Deep so the only person I had to take care of was me.

The kids have been little troopers. They've been patient and well behaved--especially Dylan. He is so understanding when I'm ill, and he steps up his game to help me. Obviously, he has his slip-ups (he's a bit of a nightmare right before bed), but that's only when he's tired.

Tonight when I put the kids to bed, I had one of those moments. You know the ones--when you love your children so much that it feels like your heart can't be contained in your chest any more. There is so much love that you are going to explode with it. And you let it spill out in hugs, kisses, and a few choked back tears.

Dylan's learning to vacuum!

2011-08-06T22:06:00.000+01:00

He was so excited when I told him I'd teach him how to vacuum. I hope this enthusiasm for housework lingers long enough for him to actually get good at it!

The first blackberries of the season...

2011-08-06T21:58:00.000+01:00

What we've done this week:

2011-08-06T21:49:00.000+01:00

Monday: Lunch at Pizza Hut, trip to the cinema to see Cars 2 (Dad came with us, it was nice)

Tuesday: Kids went to Dads' Group and we picked plums & blackberries at Water's Edge.

Wednesday: Picnic and play at Normanby Hall.

Thursday: Nerf gun war at Playtowers in Cleethorpes (Lewis's party).

Friday: Baked cookies with Noelle. Butterfly and bear ones with pink, purple, yellow and turquoise blue icing!

Saturday: Nothing, and it was really nice!

I'm going to be happy to have Dylan back at school just so I don't have to be the activities co-ordinator any more. I need some good ideas!

Next week (please help me fill in the blanks):

Monday: Either Sutton or Cleethorpes beach or Doncaster Dome (weather dependent).

Tuesday: Iceskating for Dylan and swimming for Edith in Sheffield.

Wednesday:

Thursday: A ramble throughTwigmoore woods.

Friday: Feeding the animals and playing on the playground at the Pink Pig Farm.

Saturday:

I don't know how my U.S. family do it, with three months of summer. I'm struggling to fill 6 weeks! Of course, we could always stay home. But I feel so guilty if I don't take the kids somewhere to do something fun--like I'm wasting Dylan's summer holiday. Plus, Dylan starts to go a little bit stir-crazy and then he picks on his sister.

I really need a bigger back garden.

Having said that, I'm still enjoying having the time with my son. Just 4 more weeks until he is at school all day long. My baby, gone for 6 1/2 hours a day. It's gonna be weird with just me and Edith rattling around in this big old house. Weird, but nice.

Now, some more pictures of our summer fun:

Doing a bit of baking at Eureka!

We got to see how a toilet works!

Craft time.

In a giant honeycomb--couple of busy bees!

Summer fun...

2011-08-03T18:37:00.000+01:00

So it's just over a week into Dylan's summer holiday, and we are having a good time!

Today I didn't really feel up to a lot of "fun," so I left it all to Martin and our local Dads' Group. But I did take Dylith down to Water's Edge to pick wild plums for dessert. That was really nice.

We had a good weekend, as well. On Saturday I let Dylan decide what we did. He chose the 20/21 Gallery in Scunthorpe, and we had a lovely time playing on the "touch and feel" exhibit.

They were especially cute playing dress-up and knights and fairy princesses together.

We popped in to Primark afterwards, and the kids tried on hats. I had to put this picture up because, well, WOW! Dylan is just so beautiful...

On routines...

2011-08-03T08:50:00.000+01:00

The kids and I have been in a routine for over three years. Dylan since he was around 6 months old, Edith pretty much since birth. And it's been nice, too. It's good to know that the kids will eat at regular times and go to bed without too much of a fuss. It's been almost crucial to my sanity at times, knowing when they would be asleep and for how long, too.

But the kids are a little bit older now, and I'm learning to relax that routine just a little bit. Part of me is really afraid to do it, because I'm worried that they will stop being such good sleepers and eaters. But so far, so good. Last night, we went and picked wild plums for dessert after we finished our dinner. We got home too late to bathe, but the kids watched bedtime cartoons and went up to bed like little angels. And on Thursday they are going to have a really late night, but I know that they will sleep in the car on the way home and they will be more than happy to crawl into bed when we get home.

Of course, life is changing now. Dylan will be going to school full-time in September and it will just be me and Edith all day long. And the summer holiday is shaking things up as well. My rigid parenting has had to relax. It's not a bad thing. But my system has worked for nearly 4 years, and changing it now is a little bit terrifying.

Speaking of change and terrifying, I had a night out for the first time in nearly 3 years. On Saturday I went out with my friend Sammi, her boyfriend Sam, and her friend Dan to a nightclub in Hull called Spiders. I was really nervous about it. Mostly worried that I would be the oldest one there (I wasn't) and that I would look like a frumpy old housewife (I didn't, if the two lesbians who hit on me are any indication). It's a metal club, so it wasn't my kind of music and it was a bit of (sub)culture shock. But I had a really good time. I've never seen that many silly men and boys playing air guitar in one place before. And I've decided that it might be a good thing for me to go out a bit more often. I shouldn't be such a shut-in.

Emma, let's go have a girls' night once every six weeks or so. Whadda ya say?

It was very weird to get all dolled up for a night out without my husband. VERY weird.

Anyway, we're taking the kids to get haircuts and then we're off for a picnic at Normanby Hall. Time to get this show on the road.

Here's to doing new and exciting things!

Guess what?

2011-07-28T08:13:00.000+01:00

I've always thought I was more of a school-time mom. I like having Dylan at school and Edith napping, because it gives me some time to myself. But today is day 4 of the summer holidays, and I'm really enjoying it so far. Having Dylan home is actually pretty fun.

Maybe it's more the freedom of not being tied to the school run. We don't have to stick to such a rigid schedule right now. If lunch is ready 20 minutes later than normal, it's no big deal. If Edith sleeps a little bit later than usual, I don't have to wake her up to go gt Dylan from school. We can skip naps altogether and go do something fun, like we did yesterday.

Here's what we've done so far:

Monday--not a really fun one for the kids. Martin went golfing. I went visiting teaching. We prepared for the Stables staff barbeque.

Tuesday--took the kids swimming at the new leisure centre in Scunthorpe.

Wednesday--went to the park in Goxhill.

And today--Noelle is coming over and we are going to bake cookies.

We've not got any plans for Frieday yet, but I'm thinking it might involve a train journey to the seaside. The kids both love trains, and Dylan loves the beach, but it depends on when the tide is in. So it could be fish and chips and a paddle in the North Sea, could be something else.

Saturday will most likely be a trip to McDonalds and the 20/21 art gallery in Scunthorpe.

Poor Martin. He's seeing even less of the kids because we're out doing fun stuff when he's home on his break. But I'm tired of not doing anything just because of his job. So we are gallivanting around and leaving him alone with the Wii.

It looks like it's going to be a fun, busy, and exhausting summer!

Take me out to the ball game...

2011-07-18T21:41:00.000+01:00

Martin didn't play baseball all last summer, and I promised him he could play a few games this summer. We didn't have too many church commitments and it was a home game, so we went yesterday.

We had so much gear that it looked like we were staying for a week. We took snacks, drinks, a tent, blankets, umbrellas, etc.

My-oh-my, the kids LOVED the tent!

Martin and I got a rare photo of the two of us together. We pretended to like each other.

It really seems like we had a good time, doesn't it?

It was fun, for a time. Then Edith got tired, it rained, she got her Welly boots muddy, took them off, and got her socks wet. She freaked out about her wet socks, refused to put her boots on, wouldn't take a nap, and just generally made everyone miserable.

Dylan was good, though.

Now Martin is hobbling around the house like an old man because he used some muscles that haven't been vigorously exercised for quite some time. But if he has a sports-related injury he's not allowed to complain about it. I figure it's self-inflicted, so he gets no sympathy. He's in pain, but he's happy.

An unexpected windfall...

2011-07-17T08:32:00.000+01:00

We helped clean the church last Saturday. Kind of a big ask when Martin works a 14 hour day on Saturday and I am on my own with the kids all day long, but we sucked it up and did it. And what do you know--we got blessings!

Of course, you expect good things to happen to you when you do good. Even if you don't believe in God and blessings, most people believe in karma. Or, at the very least, enjoy that buzz you get when you know you did something good. But we were rewarded immediately.

I came home with a giant bag of old curtains and sheets that someone was getting rid of.

Now I know that doesn't sound very exciting to most people, but I have been searching the charity shops for just those very items. I have been wanting them to make rag rugs, which we are in desperate need of since we did the tiling. The stone floors are really lovely, but VERY hard. Unfortunately, an old pair of curtains runs about £6 and sheets are about £4. Cost prohibitive when you need about 6 sheets or two pair of curtains to make a decent sized rug. So when I got this big bag of old fabric, I was beyond thrilled. In fact, I've already nearly finished a rug. It's beautiful, and it will be a reminder every time I look at it that good things happen when you do what you ought to do.

In other news, our car insurance company has decided to write off our car.

About three weeks ago, I nearly tore the bumper off. I cried. We debated whether or not to put a claim in to our insurance company, since it was all my fault and there was nobody else involved--just me and the strip of metal on the side of a gate post. But we have full coverage on our car and the deductible is only £100. Sadly, the car will cost more to fix than it is worth. Happily, the market value of the car is £1575 (remember, we paid £800 for it). We found someone in town who will fix the damage for about £500, and the insurance company will sell us back the car for the amount that they could get for scrappage, and we can take the rest of the cash at market value and do what we like with the money. We have decided to do that, and then take the money to repair the car. We both really like it! Then we will put the money into our savings account so it's there just in case we have any expensive car repairs in the future.

I probably should have blogged about the car accident before now, but I was so embarrassed that I did it. It's always been Martin who destroyed our cars in the past. He was pretty mad at me when I did it, but it was on a Sunday and he'd just got done teaching a Primary lesson about forgiveness. Lucky for me, huh?

Anyway, I can't wait to get the car fixed. And I'm going to see about getting an eye test and maybe some new glasses. I think my depth perception is a little bit off. Either that or I REALLY shouldn't drive if I'm even a little bit tired. But that would be bad news, because I'd never be able to go anywhere!

Medical news...

2011-07-15T21:57:00.000+01:00

As suspected, Edith officially does NOT have von Willebrand's disease.

Just thought I'd let everybody know.

Oh, and by the way, she loves to shop!

A few of my favorite things--in the garden...

2011-07-13T14:21:00.000+01:00

This is my favorite!

Housework...

2011-07-13T14:05:00.000+01:00

We lived with this mess for a few days, but it has to get worse before it can get better--right?

Totally worth it!

Bizarrely, this is my favorite part of the whole tiling job. The tiny step up from the piano room into the kitchen used to be broken, exposed concrete. Now it is a lovely little tiled step, and it looks immeasurably better.

Dining room is next. Ugh--I'm really not looking forward to the work and mess involved there. But the tiles look so beautiful.

They are travertine, a form of limestone. The best bit is, it was nearly free. We saved our Tesco clubcard vouchers and traded them in for triple their value at Topps Tiles. And the travertine tiles, along with being my favorite tiles in the place, were cheaper than ceramic. I'm all about natural materials.

A (parenting) match made in heaven...

2011-07-13T13:52:00.000+01:00

Dylan is a cute kid, but he could really be a nightmare if I'd let him.

I am not a super-mom. I make mistakes, and plenty of them. But there is one thing that I always do right, no matter what. I say what I mean and I mean what I say. From day one with my children I have tried my hardest to be consistent in both praise and punishment. And I have never backed down from a punishment I have threatened, even when it ends up making things harder for me.

My son is fond of testing his boundaries. He likes to push his limits to find out just what he can get away with. And I won't let him get away with anything. Because if I let him, he would be completely out of control.

I guess what I'm saying is, I may not be the best mother in the world, but I am the best mother in the world for HIM.

I have a sneaking suspicion that Edith will be the same way, though she is still a bit more biddable than he is. Wow, things are NOT going to be fun at my house in about 10 years.

A pleasant surprise...

2011-07-08T08:32:00.000+01:00

Martin finally took the hideous gas heater out of the dining room. I've been wanting it gone for about 3 years, and it only took 15 minutes to get it done. And, when we took it off, we discovered that opening up the fireplace was going to be a much easier job than we thought.

The people who installed the heater (which my dad tells me is a non-vented heater) didn't even bother blocking up the fireplace. They just put up some truly hideous brick, installed some faux hearthstones, and whacked the heater on top. So we already have an open fireplace. We just need to chip out the ugly old bricks and install the fire surround we have out in the back garden (Martin bought it off somebody for about £20, and it's a cast iron fire surround!). Oh, and have the chimney swept, but apparently that only costs about a tenner to have done. We will have a proper fireplace in our dining room, which I am pretty jazzed about. Now we will just have to find a source for firewood. Martin's parents use coal in their fireplace, but I much prefer a wood fire. And I'll have to learn about proper fireplace maintenance, as well.

There's something kind of primitave about having an open fire in the house that really appeals to me. And it's in the back room of the oldest part of the house, so it's a massive fireplace that was probably used for cooking on at one point. Nice to know that if the world as we know it ended tomorrow, I would be able to do some cooking for the family in our house.

I sort of like to think about that sometimes. What would we do if civilization as we know it ended tomorrow and we were thrown back to the middle ages? I'm a total freak about post-apocalyptic fiction and am (slightly) obsessed with learning how to do things like hand sewing, mending, preserving food, gardening, etc. Just in case, you know? A little bit crazy, but part of my charm.

This doesn't happen very often...

2011-07-05T21:33:00.000+01:00

Sunday was a rough day for me. I'd been sick all week and taking care of the kids by myself. I hadn't had much sleep the night before. In my tired and weakened state, I went to a Sunday School lesson about Christ in the garden of Gethsemane and I was a little bit emotional.

We read one of my favorite scriptures of all time: Luke 22: 41-42

And he was withdrawn from them about a stone’s cast, and kneeled down, and prayed,

Saying, Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done.

It took me back to a time when I relied on this scripture a lot.

It seems like forever ago, but it's only been 7 years. After 2 years of trying to conceive and feeling like a failure as a woman, I got pregnant. It was one of the happiest days of my life, and from the second I found out about the pregnancy, it was a baby. No blastocyte, embryo or fetus. Baby.

I kept my news to myself until I was 10 weeks, and just two days before my first doctor's appointment I finally told a few family members. Then I went to see my doctor and he did a dating ultrasound. I will remember that moment for the rest of my life, because my womb was completely empty. I felt like my heart was ripped out of my body.

Turns out that it was an ectopic pregnancy. And in my case, the doctor believed that my body had already miscarried but some of the tissue was attached to my fallopian tube and was still growing. I didn't have to have surgery, but I did need to have a "termination."

So a few days later, once we had confirmed that there was no viable pregnancy, I drove myself down to the local cancer clinic to have the methotrexate injections that would abort my unborn child. I remember lying in bed the night before my appointment, praying. I wondered how I could possibly go through with it. I begged and pleaded with God for things to be different. I cried until I didn't have any tears left. But I remembered that scripture in Luke, and it gave me courage and strength. To know that Jesus, the only person to lead a sinless life, also had to do something that he didn't want to do was such a comfort. That He had the grace to submit himself to the will of his Father was a lesson. And actually being able to go to the clinic and have the injections felt like a miracle. I cried the whole time, but I did it.

I still think about my almost-baby every time Dylan celebrates his birthday, and remember that I should have a child who is 2 years older. But it is without any bitterness. Just a little bit of sadness and regret. Because I know that I'm not the only person to face something that seemed too hard to do. And I know that the experience made me stronger and made me appreciate motherhood even more.

Our wonderful teacher in Sunday School apologized for pointing out Jesus' "weakness," but to me, that brief plea to do things another way if possible is one of the most beautiful parts of the atonement. As Christians, we celebrate the divinity of Jesus Christ all the time. But I like to dwell on his humanity every once in a while. I love knowing that He felt exactly like I felt, because I knew that I wasn't alone on that day.

I'm still crying about it.

Domestic goddess, me?

2011-07-01T13:04:00.000+01:00

So I was talking to my Yankee friend Amy the other day about stain removal (yes, my life really is that boring). She said that her mother swore by pouring hot water from a height to remove fruit juice stains. I was skeptical, but didn't say so at the time.

Well, today Edith was wearing a beautiful little sundress that Noelle made--green and white checked gingham with a halter neck and little white pockets. We passed a cherry tree on our walk home from Dylan's school, and it had ripe cherries on it. I gave one to Edith, and she dribbled cherry juice all down the front of herself.

Panic.

Despair.

Anger.

Idea...

When we got home, I took the dress off her and put her down for a nap. Then I came downstairs and put the kettle on. I took the clothes off the washing line and did a few other little jobs. Then I held that dress over the kitchen sink, took a deep breath, fought the inner voices that were telling me to pre-treat with chemicals and NOT set the stain with heat, held the kettle about 12 inches away from the dress, and poured.

What do you know, that cherry juice came right out!

The dress is drying on the washing line, and ready for Edith to put it back on when she wakes up.

I'll have to tell Amy that her mother's tip worked a treat.

I definitely won't be avoiding conversations about stain removal, either.

I have the best family...

2011-06-28T22:01:00.000+01:00

Today Dylan did some writing.

He wrote "mom," "dad," Dylan," and "Edith."

Ok, so it's not Shakespeare. But he wrote "mom" without even asking us how to spell it. He did "dad" all on his own as well. He's got hos own name down pat. He had to have a little bit of help with "Edith," but it is a tricky one. He thought you spelled it with an "f" at the end. He's gone from completely uninterested in reading and writing to the star pupil pretty much overnight.

Edith just keeps getting cuter. As she gets older, her personality becomes more apparent. She's a bossy little madame, but she's so kind and caring as well. Oh, my little ginger firecracker!

And my husband...well, I am seriously lucky. He does it all. He's loving, devoted, hard-working, and a great father. I mean, sure he has his faults. Don't we all? But I love him to pieces, even though he's completely incapable of cleaning up after himself.

I had a slightly surreal moment in Tesco on Monday. I had a person I've never met turn around and say, "Oh, you're Jamie. And that must be Dylan and Edith." Turns out, she's a friend of Emma and Lewis and she reads my blog, which is linked to theirs (I didn't get your name, but it was nice to meet you). That's never happened before. Most of the time, this blog just seems like I'm talking to myself and putting up pictures for my mom. I've always thought I was kind of a private person. Except now I publish most of the details of my life on-line. Is it strange that I never really thought of it that way before?

A REAL red letter day...

2011-06-24T21:05:00.000+01:00

Today I got the best piece of mail I've had all year!

When we last visited Utah (before Edith was born) Dylan had two seizures. We'd upgraded our bank account to include travel insurance just one day before we left on the trip, but we found out after we got home that they'd signed us up for the wrong policy and Dylan wasn't covered.

We lodged an official complaint, which our bank denied. So we took it to the next level, and lodged a complaint with the financial ombudsman. It took a long time to recieve a decision, but we finally got it in the post today.

Our bank is going to have to pay the medical bills. They are going to have to pay an additional 8% per annum interest. In addition, they are going to have to pay us a small sum as compensation for the stress and inconvenience caused (I didn't ask for that part). So we can finally pay those bills, and we can donate the sum that Primary Children's Medical Center wrote off for us back to them. And my mom and dad can finally stop getting harassed by bill collectors who refuse to give up and also refuse to make an international phone call to pursue their cash.

I was so excited to get the letter, I literally cried.

In parenting news, Dylan has been having a hard time at school. He's been fighting with other students, hitting them, throwing things, and just generally disobeying his teachers.

Of course, this means that he hasn't been able to watch bedtime cartoons. That's the standard punishment for bad behavior at school. But Edith is old enough now that skipping bedtime cartoons all together is a punishment for her, too. So last night I gave the kids their bath first and then sent Dylan up to bed. Edith and I stayed downstairs and watched cartoons without him.

Wow, he really did not like that at all. He screamed for 45 minutes. I didn't cave in, though. I stuck to my guns.

I was totally Zen!

(Thank you, Zumba, for wearing me out and helping me vent my anger and NOT take it out on my kids.)

Today when I dropped Dylan off at school, I told his teacher about his home punishment if he had to stand out at school so she could use it as an incentive for good behavior. And guess what...it worked! He was great at school. So great that I agreed to let him have a sleepover with Nathan and Esaias Munday.

The neighbors are replacing the wall in the back garden. It was falling over and the mortar was crubling to pieces. I'm a bit sad, because they are replacing it with a modern panel fence. No more secret garden brick wall--at least, not on the north side. But it's going to look good. Better than the back end of their cheap old fence they put in when they first bought the house. We're just going to need to put some climbing plants on a trellis to get back some of the character. They've spent the last two days ripping out the old wall, and the new fence is going in tomorrow.

I am also going to take Dylan to play football tomorrow morning. I'm not sure if they'll let him play, because he is technically still too young. But he certainly doesn't look or act too young.

Speaking of Dylan looking grown up, he got a new haircut today. It's a bit Justin Beiber-ish, and he looks so adorable. He asked me to start combing his hair flat instead of spiking it up, and this cut was the next step. He's really starting to be interested in what he wears and how his hair looks. And wow, he's going to be a looker.

I swear, next time I'll mention my daughter a bit more.

And that's the news.

Complicated...

2011-06-21T08:41:00.000+01:00

I have a strange relationship with my two dads.

My mom and dad split up when I was just a baby. Then my mom remarried an amazing man who already had two daughters of his own (I just started humming the Brady Bunch theme song). They joined their families very successfully and then had two daughters together. Later, in an attempt to diffuse the estrogen, they adopted a son.

I have called my stepfather "dad" since I was about 3 years old. He raised me, and treated me like his own daughter. I love him dearly, and always will. Most of the time, it doesn't even occur to me that I'm not actually his!

And my father? Well, we lost touch over the years. I had a new family, we moved far away, and with each passing year it became more and more awkward that we hadn't seen each other. He always sent me birthday and Christmas cards and gifts, and included his contact information. He left it up to me, whether I would see him or not. That's a big decision for a little girl, and it wasn't one I was capable of making until I was much older.

We finally met when I was 17. It was really strange. In the discussion about nature vs. nurture, I'll go 50/50 every time. I hadn't seen this man since I was about 3 years old. I was raised by someone else. But not only did I look just like him, we ARE alike. We share similar personalities and an almost identical sense of humor. And when I met the rest of the family later that year, it was like I'd never been away. I was so much LIKE these people.

So I have two dads--one who gave me life and one who made me who I am. I am like both of them, and I love both of them.

Dad, you were and are a wonderful father to me. I love you so very much for taking on the very difficult challenge of raising a mixed family and doing it with such style, grace, and love. For always making me feel that I was equal to your "real" children.

Daddy Doug, I'm glad that you're in my life now. You give me a sense of who I am and have taught me so many lessons, both about you and about myself. I see the way your life has gone in recent years and really admire the man you are. I love you, too.

So, to my two dads, thanks for being the men that you are. Between the two of you, I think I've turned out alright. So far, at least.

Let's reserve judgment until we see if I really screw up my own kids.

Happy belated father's day.

I love you!

Edith--supermodel in training...

2011-06-17T18:43:00.000+01:00

Bank Holiday continued...

2011-06-16T22:43:00.000+01:00

Bit of a dude...

Taller than Richard!

Getting her diaper changed in the car boot.

More Aysgarth Falls pics...

2011-06-16T22:27:00.001+01:00

This is where Robin Hood fought Little John in "Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves." It's also my favorite place in England. Seriously, this place is beautiful!

Paddling at Aysgarth Falls...

2011-06-15T23:18:00.003+01:00

Sitting in an English garden...

2011-06-15T22:56:00.000+01:00

Martin's Nanna Steph's garden, to be more precise. She has one of the most beautiful gardens I've ever seen. Such an inspiration!

Why Martin is never the "trip photographer..."

2011-06-15T14:40:00.000+01:00

We tend to wind up with slightly artistic and totally random photos like these. There were eleven of them. You'd never guess that we had been to a duck race in Kettlewell. But we had been. Me, Martin, the kids, and Richard and Noelle stopped off on our way to Aysgarth Falls. We each bought a rubber duck for £1 each (all proceeds going to the church roof fund or some such thing), the ducks were numbered and all let go at the top end of the village. First place duck "owner" received a £65 prize. It was a laugh. Sadly, we mostly just have random pictures of the river and a bunch of ducks floating down it.

It's so much easier now...

2011-06-09T22:14:00.000+01:00

Edith just woke up crying.

Don't leave me now, because I'm not going to whine about it. Seriously!

I was just going to say how nice it is that she's talking now.

When I went up to see what was wrong with her, I picked her up and gave her a cuddle. Then I asked her if she was ready to go back to sleep.

She pointed to my bedroom and said "wreent."

I know it sounds like total gibberish to everyone else, but luckily for me I am (almost) completely fluent in Edithese.

She wanted a drink. She was pointing to my bedroom because I keep a Nalgene bottle full of water on my bedside table.

One of the most exciting developmental milestones (so far) in my childrens' lives has been the ability to speak. Oh, language is a real gift.

Newborns are easy. If they are crying, chances are they either want to be fed or need the mess from their last feed cleaned off their backsides. Now obviously you have the occasional "other" problems, like over-stimulated, over-tired, teething, etc. But let's be honest here--I breast-fed my babies until they were quite ridiculously old and if there was something else wrong with them, a little "momma milk" sorted it out anyway.

But somewhere in between the baby stage and the toddler stage is that awkward, annoying and difficult stage when there is no reasoning with them and no comforting them.

Wow, I hate that stage.

They know what they want, but they are unable to tell you what it is. You want to help them and give them what they want, but you just CAN'T UNDERSTAND!

Dylan was always a great communicator. He was slow to start talking, but once he started--well, I haven't been able to get him to shut up since. He had a few words that were difficult to understand, like "ottaker" instead of "helecopter" and "issinge" instead of orange, but he always spoke so clearly. Perfect strangers never had any trouble understanding him, even from just two years old.

Edith has been a bit more difficult. She was a slow starter as well, in a lot of different areas. And now, well, she's turning into a little chatterbox as well. But she speaks her own little toddler language that only Martin, Dylan and I understand.

She is completely unable to make a "k" sound, so when she means "pink," what she actually says is "peen-t."
Instead of saying "thank you," she goes "ahh-ahh."

I really love that she has her own little language, but I love it even more that I understand it.

It really is so much easier whan that child learns how to talk.

It's even better when they begin to learn to reason.

Logic is so very underrated.

A Saturday in Twigmoor woods...

2011-06-03T20:36:00.000+01:00

A happy reunion...

2011-06-03T19:59:00.001+01:00

The kids just spent about 50 hours with their grandparents. It's the longest I've ever been away from them, with the exception of when I was in the hospital to have Edith (though she was actually with me the whole time, so it doesn't really count).

They spent two nights in the caravan (that's a trailer for all you Yanks out there) up in Yorkshire, and had a wonderful time. Martin and I spent two days working on the house. He built cabinet doors and I cleared out every single junk space in the house. It was seriously exhausting, but so good to actually get stuff done. Plus, we got to go see the new X-Men movie and spend time together, which is always nice.

Having kid-free time was a real treat, but I must admit that I was, as always, blown away by the realization of how selfish and self-indulgent our lives were before we had children. Sometimes I miss that life. But most of the time, I miss them when they are gone.

I got the best cuddles EVER when they finally got home at about 1pm. Apparently, they had been asking for me. But they had a good time. They went to the beach, had icecream, went for walks, fed the ducks, played croquet and boules, slept together in the big bed in the caravan, and ate all their meals at a special table just for them.

So the house is completely clean, the laundry is all caught up, and we took two car loads of stuff to the local charity shop.

Hooray for life laundry.

And hooray for having my kids back at home where they belong.

Monday...

2011-05-28T21:03:00.000+01:00

We started our day with a trip to Hull...

...where Edith and Dylan shared a blueberry muffin and enjoyed orange juice, Innocent smoothie, and a sip of Chai Tea Latte. From a mug bigger than Edith's head.

I took Edith in to have her third of 3 blood tests for von Willebrand's disease. She had a good time playing in the waiting room. Going to the women and childrens' hospital rocks--they have the best toys in the waiting room!

We also had a lovely meal at Cathy's house, and the kids fell asleep in the car on the way home (again).

I'm sensing a theme here.

Last week...

2011-05-28T20:28:00.000+01:00

Sunday involved church, of course. Then we enjoyed the best of both worlds--a visit with the Mundays AND a quiet night in...

The kids played so well together.

Emma let Dylan borrow the Mr. Incredible suit, and he's been wearing it every time we let him since then!

Dylan fell asleep on the drive home.

So did Edith.

Then Martin and I vegged out and watched telly all night. Well, until 11pm or so.

Perfect day, really.

On my mind, but not too deeply...

2011-05-24T13:06:00.000+01:00

I've been having a bit more quiet time lately. Not because the kids are quiet, of course. Having pushed their bed time back by half an hour, if anything they are a bit more noisy and hyper than usual. But on Friday and Saturday nights, I didn't turn on the telly or listen to music at all. Like a good little Relief Society teacher, I was preparing my lesson (it went quite well, thanks).

I really enjoyed the peace and quiet, and I've resolved to have more telly-free time in the future. Maybe just 1 night a week or something, since I AM at home on my own 4 nights a week.

Anyway, this extra quiet time has given me some good thinking time, and here's what's been on my mind lately:

It really pisses me off that people think Martin is gay. Ok, so I (and my posse of gay friends) thought he was gay when we first met. To be honest, that's probably what attracted me to him in the first place. In the grand tradition of "damaged" women everywhere, I used to be hopelessly drawn to emotionally unavailable men. I've often wondered how many guys I made out wi--erm, kissed who actually turned out to be gay. I can think of at least two that I know of for sure. But anyway, I digress. I'm totally ok with people thinking Martin is gay--until they find out he's got a wife and two kids. Also, it's especially not ok to continue thinking he's playing for the other team once they've met me. That's so incredibly insulting to me. Yes, Pete. I'm talking to you, man!

Watching Edith growing up is so bittersweet. She gets more and more beautiful, and I just keep getting older. 50% of her looks came from me. Sometimes I wish I could have kept them. I get a little bit jealous. It's only going to get worse as she gets older, because when she's 15 I'll be 45 (oh boy, pushing 50. It's looming). She'll be peaking and I'll be troughing at the same time. Why oh why couldn't I have had another son? It's a good thing I love her so much...

I love gardening in England. Seriously you don't normally even need to water anything. But it took me a while to figure out which were weeds and which were flowers--totally different weeds here than in Utah. Except for dandelions. Those seem to be universal.

The new car is so fantastic! It's such a treat to drive, and it's nice to be able to drive somewhere with confidence that the car isn't going to break down or fall apart. I need to get some new shades to wear when I drive. It's kind of funny, really. Martin and I now fight over whose turn it is to drive.

And that's what's on my mind right now.

See, I told you it wasn't too deep.

Pictures of our weekend activities to follow.

Kiddie pics...

2011-05-18T22:17:00.000+01:00

Cute kisses--and man, my eyebrows look fantastic, don't they?

Long and lean, just like daddy.

Best mates!

My little beauties...

2011-05-18T22:08:00.000+01:00

Charlotte gets giant cuddles from Dylan and Edith.

Piggy-tails!

Cheese!

Bed bouncing.

One of those days...

2011-05-17T20:54:00.000+01:00

I love my job. No, really. I do. But every once in a while I just get fed up with being a full time stay-at-home mom. Today was definitely one of those days. But more so. Today I was just fed up of having kids at all.

The last 24 hours have brought urine and squash on my carpet, crayon on my walls, the iPod speaker getting dropped (and possibly broken), toys left on the floor and stepped on (I hate Lego) and a creeping and pervasive mess in my house.

I just feel as though the kids are gradually turning everything we own into absolute crap!

I remember one day not long after my grandpa died when I broke a bowl. It was an accident. I opened the cupboard and it fell onto the ceramic tile floor in my parents' kitchen. My mom screamed at me, and then she started sobbing. Her parents had bought her those dishes when she got married, and she was devastated when that bowl broke. I thought she was being ridiculous at the time.

I so get that now.

Nobody tells you when you start this whole parenting thing that all your stuff will be systematically destroyed. You know, it would probably be really good birth control if they did.

I love my little mess makers, but jeez louise, enough already.

Tomorrow should be a better day.

A sound financial decision...

2011-05-16T16:38:00.000+01:00

Things that are wrong with our car and cost of fixing them:

2 new tires:                          £100
Front end suspension:          £250 (inc. parts and labor)
Blowing exhaust:                  £100 (estimated)
Wing mirror:                        £25
Brakes:                               £125 (estimated)
Climate control fan switch: £50 (estimated)
Road Tax:                          £105
MOT test:                           £35
Ignition repairing: Not a clue! Just started having problems last week.

Grand total: £790 (plus the cost of fixing the ignition, whatever that would be)

Total cost of new car which we just bought: £800

This includes the tax until September. The MOT is good until February 2012. The new car is 4 years newer than the one we currently drive, will cost about £40 less per year to insure, is in a lower tax bracket, and gets better mpg. than the Nissan we are currently driving. The bodywork has a few bumps and scratches, but it is in much better shape than the old one.

Plus, it is a Seat Leon. I have wanted one of these cars for about 4 years now.

We'll be picking it up from Heanor first thing Wednesday morning, and leaving the Nissan with a scrap dealer in Nottingham. I can hardly wait to start driving this new car.

Of course, the most sound financial decision of all would be to do without a car entirely, which is very feasible for us. Martin walks to work, we live super close to a Tesco, Dylan's school takes less than 5 minutes to walk to. But we have that 35 mile round trip journey to church every Sunday. The church isn't on a direct bus route so we would have to change buses twice, and leave home 2 hours early and church 30 minutes early every week. AND would cost us about £15 a week to do it.

The best decision for our finances isn't necessarily the best decision for our family.

And, well, it's a really pretty car.

Ewww...

2011-05-13T21:25:00.000+01:00

I know my kids are entirely too old for me to blog about their poop, but here goes anyway.

Edith wouldn't come in the house this evening for bedtime cartoons. That's very unusual! She just stood out in the middle of the garden and cried.

When I went to collect her, I discovered a big old mess. She had to be sprayed down in the bathtub.

I guess I will stop blogging about my kids' bowel movements when they are no longer the most interesting part of my day. But scraping human waste out of Edith's boots sure seems newsworthy to me.

Motherhood is such a treat sometimes.