Baby boogie

The other day the Nolans singing "I'm in the mood for dancing" (romancing, ooh I'm giving it all tonight...) came on the tv out of nowhere. Baby Babs went MENTAL! He was boogieing around in his high chair like no ones business, nobody could say he ain't my son! I have yet to play him any Barry Manilow, now that's an idea! (...at the copa, copacabana...)

Christmas

Today is the anniversary of me giving up work! Yey! And you know what, I haven't missed it at all. Not that I've had time to really. But I miss the money sometimes! Hubby is on his drunken way home from the Christmas drinks they have at the end of "term" and I feel guilty that he felt he had to come home! But I can count on my hands the number of times I have been out with my friends this year, it's all changing next year! Motherhood does not equal death of social life! Goddamit. But most of my friends have moved miles away too, it's not good.

I'm super excited about Christmas. It's Baby Babs' first and he's old enough to kind of know what's going on. I bought him so much stuff, I was going to save some of it for his 1st birthday in January but I couldn't do it! I need a bigger house.

But Happy Christmas to everyone! I have no idea what 2008 will bring but hopefully less tears, more drinking and lots of fun!

Stairlift to heaven

I've been watching the news showing footage from the Led Zeppelin gig at the O2 arena last night. Instead of being an exciting ROCK experience, sadly it just looked like a load of dads getting over-excited about their old guitars being unearthed from the loft. I am sure the Zep did rock last night and were just as good as the old days, but the fans sadly have aged considerably. I am sure all the middle aged men who were "rocking out" to the embarrassment of their kids were cool when the Zep were big last time round. Now they really aren't. It's quite touching though, old blokes trying to be young again. Bless.

Rock of love

The most hilarious program I have seen for YEARS is currently showing on VH1. I happened upon it by chance one bored Friday night - there really is nothing on tv anymore. Basically Bret Michaels from Poison has a load of women vying for his "love" and each week some get voted off. It is total trash television, these women have no shame. Bret isn't all that anymore (not that he ever was), but he's got these women doing phone sex competitions, writing him love songs to perform in front of a panel of judges, and all kinds of humiliating stuff. They all think they are "the one" and Bret just hasn't seen it yet. Trust me girls, he ain't in it for a relationship! Not after the threesome last night...

One who got voted off last night was a maturer lady who thought she would win it. My favourite bit was when two other girls won one of the competitions and got to go horse riding with Bret. She started howling, screaming "that was MY dream - I wanted to go horse riding with Bret!!" and she took it very personally that he'd taken some other blonde girls. She also kept saying she wanted Bret to meet her kids. Shortly after she was sent "home" (read for "rehab"). One other not very smart girl said "oh she's always crying that she misses her son. I can totally dig it, like, I really miss my cat, but do you see me crying?".

Oh roll on next Friday!!

The Beeb respond...

...finally! I had 2 letters within a week after writing directly to the BBC Complaints department. I also mentioned that I was a librarian and quite shocked (yes shocked!) at their enquiry "service" which might have just swung it! Basically they apologised but said it wasn't their fault, it was a company they contract queries out to. Apparently the Commissioning Editor doesn't exist anymore. Funnily enough, the company they blame just happens to be at the same address that the Commissioning Editor was this time last year! Honestly. But at least hubby has a letter now and is kind of happy.

Now who can I email stalk now?!

Ho ho ho

The one thing I have noticed more than anything this Christmas is the total monopoly the supermarkets have. Now I'm a stay at home mum, I have to really watch the pennies and get the best bargains I can. I can totally lecture you on the pros and cons of Asda vs Sainsburys vs Tescos vs Iceland. And the differences between the 99p shop and Poundland, and how sometimes you are still better off going elsewhere for your loo roll! Recently, Sainsburys halved the price on all their toys for a week. I happened to be in there on the first day and had no clue until I saw the fighting in the toy aisle. Honestly. Mums were going crazy to get their cheap toys, it was scary. But I don't see how much longer the independent shops can keep going, one toy my nephew wanted was £15 cheaper in Sainsburys than the other shops, even if you weren't watching the pennies, you'd be mad to go anywhere else wouldn't you?! I don't know how the supermarkets do it. The only trouble is, in a year or two, you will be buying everything you need there and there will be no other shops, just wasteland. And my sister-in-law just got a bike for her boy, she dutifully did all the independent bike shops first, but found the bike she wanted was £150 cheaper in Halfords!! £150!! That's mad.

I bet Father Christmas does all his shopping in Asda. That's all I'm saying.

Fireworks or full scale warzone?

Ooh fireworks, don't you just love 'em? I do actually, I get so excited about bonfire night and my family just mock me. I wore legwarmers, hat, gloves, extra socks, jumper and a coat - and it wasn't even that cold. We had fireworks at my sister-in-laws house last night, her hubby is obsessed and spent LOADS of wonga on them, it went on for hours! But the neighbour next door also had some and he is an idiot. He let them off on his patio and they wooshed everywhere, nearly taking his shed out. Some people a few doors down were letting them off with abandon too, it was quite scary. It sounded like we were in the middle of a war zone. Just crossing the road to my house to get an extra hat was an experience - it looked like dense fog but this was just from all the bonfires/fireworks and I had to scurry across with my head down just in case of rogue fireworks. Any idiot can buy them, and they do! Maybe the people who buy them should be forced to do lessons in health and safety and which way up to light the firework. It's just a thought. Or would that ruin the fun?!

Nigella Smug Lady

Against my better judgment I watched another episode of the latest Nigella Lawson cookery programs this week where she tries to create lovely meals in about 5 minutes. My god she is smug. She is so smug she has created a whole new level of smugness. She has the perfect kitchen, perfectly stocked pantry, a freezer full of lovely things and can clearly afford to buy all the food that saves her so much time when she is cooking. Her kids have smug friends, she has smug friends. Everyone and everything is smug smug smug! Even the cutlery.

Smug doesn't even cut it with Nigella. She needs a whole new word.

How about Smugella?!

Budding librarian

Baby Babs joined the library this week. I was so proud! I have been putting it off for months, but when we finally got there I realised how much I have missed my local library. It was great! When I was rich (before Baby Babs) I used to just buy books with abandon, but nothing can beat the atmosphere and smell of the public library (not wee from tramps, more musty books!). He got his own card with a crocodile on it, and he borrowed 10 books and got a free dvd for a week! He chose Finding Nemo and was very happy with his choice. He really likes a pop up picture book of a farm, and I get to moo and baa and pretend to be farm animals so we're both quite happy really. It's just like being a law librarian in some ways...

Is it me?

I am so mad and am starting to feel like a stalker which is really pissing me off. Get this. In December 2006 Mr Babs asked me to find out if a series he remembered watching on the bbc was out on dvd. I emailed the bbc shop and they replied saying as far as they were aware it wasn't, but that I could write to the Commissioning Editor (they don't do emails) for further details. So I did. In January. Then in April with an sae as they hadn't replied. They still haven't. So after a while I emailed the lady who replied to my initial enquiry to see if she could help, or even tell me if it was usual for a response to take so long. No reply. So after a few more months I got peeved again and emailed again - this time to a generic bbc shop address, just in case the lady had left. And yet again today I found myself emailing AGAIN and being quite rude this time.

How can a public service have such shoddy enquiry services?! I expected an initial letter thanking me for my enquiry and saying they would get back to me as soon as possible, then a response. Hah! I have got nada. As a proud librarian, I think leaving 24 hours without responding to someone I am helping is poor customer service. And I never just don't bother to reply. I know for a fact that this program isn't about to come out on dvd, but I want it in writing. I have wasted 3 stamps, 3 envelopes, and Mr Babs asks me almost every day (now in a very wistful voice) if we've had a letter. I could fake one just to keep him happy but it's the principle now. I suspect the person who checks the emails at the beeb chuckles and tells all their colleagues "ooh we've got another email from the crazy lady" and they all fall about laughing. But I won't give up. Any advice for how to get a response though?! Why they couldn't just write a little letter "thanking me for my interest but saying that there aren't any plans to release the program in the near future", I'll never know.

And Jessops haven't got back to me either. Customer services has gone downhill since I gave up work, that's for sure.

Yours, serial letter of complaint writer. Essex.

Patronising, sexist and rude all in one go...

I just met the World's Most Patronising Man. He knocked at the door and when I answered (against my better judgment) said "I'm doing some building work up the road, here's my leaflet, if you could pass it on to your husband dear" and walked off! I was so shocked I laughed out loud. Sexist git. As Lady Librarian said, I should have said "but I'm gay, shall I pass it on to my partner?". I thought the days of assumptions like that were long gone. What if I was recently widowed, or divorced, or had no man but had used my best friend's sperm to get my baby?! I put his leaflet straight in the bin. Horrible man.

Bigger willy?

If I get one more email in my spam box asking if I want a bigger penis I might scream! Can these stupid spammers not tell I am a lady?! Or maybe they think I want to be a man? Bloody viagra adverts get me too. Why can't I get spam saying "would you like more chocolate in your life?" or "how to make your man do household chores".

It's all so sexist.

!! Peril !!

One of the highlights from the Isle of Wight that I clean forgot was the entertaining road signs. "Entertaining road signs?" I hear you cry. Why yes! They were bloody brilliant. As the island is mainly made up of windy country roads with lots of woods and fields on either side we (well me really, Mr Babs didn't quite see it the way I did) were treated to road signs saying:

! Badgers !

! Red Squirrels !

! Elderly people !

I totally read these as meaning we could be in peril from ravenous badgers leaping onto the bonnet of the car and ripping the windscreen wipers off, or red squirrels dropping onto the roof and tearing off the aerial. I dread to think what the elderly people would have done. Poor Mr Babs regularly heard me chortling away in the back seat with Baby Babs, going "Badgers! Squirrels!" but sadly we never saw any animal life, never mind rabid ones.

Holiday!

We've just got back from a week on the Isle of Wight, which wasn't exactly Las Vegas but perfect for Baby Babs' first holiday. It was a lovely week, we did lots and as you do on holidays bought lots of tat to bring home - fridge magnets, novelty souvenirs etc. I hadn't been to the island before and it was an eye-opener. My main memories?

1) Sunday drivers. As the island has no motorways and only one or two "main" roads, driving around isn't quite the London experience. They are great roads for rally drivers, all bends and hills, but more often than not you get stuck behind someone tootling along with no idea of the other traffic on the roads. My favourite one was an old chap who was clearly showing some friends the sights as they went along. Sadly this involved braking randomly to slow down enough to give a guided commentary on something we were passing. But not slow enough so we could overtake him. This carried on for a good half hour with Mr Babs getting more and more irate (he's a London driver through and through, I was surprised he didn't try and force him off the road) until we got to a big enough town for us to pass him. Mr Tour Guide was merrily pointing at the harbour and looked quite upset when the 20 cars that he had held up for so long sped past him giving him their not so polite opinions on his tour of the Isle of Wight.

2) Shops. Again, as someone used to London and 24 hour shopping facilities, we were quite thrown by the lack of shops. On our first day we managed to find a small supermarket so we could stock up on the essentials (beer, wine, crisps - I brought my own tea bags naturally). But it was 3 times more expensive than probably anywhere else in the world (Britain is an island too - what's with the import tax?!) and everyone in the shop knew each other and knew we were strangers. It was a bit like the League of Gentlemen - "you're not from round these 'ere parts are you?". The main town, Newport, was about the only place on the island where you could find what you wanted. Not that that is a bad thing, who needs Starbucks and Tesco Express?!

3) Local hostelries. We went out for dinner at the local pub and afterwards had a drink in the bar. I was looking after Baby Babs who was causing chaos and his dad had gone to feed his gambling addiction on the slot machines (you could hear his brain thinking "pretend it's Vegas, pretend it's Vegas") and of course I attracted the local nutters. It's quite heartening to know I haven't lost my attraction to weirdos despite being an old married (but obviously so young looking that they wouldn't think that). One was a fisherman, I gathered that, the other could have been a fisherman. Or he could have been just out of prison. Who could tell? They used Baby Babs as an excuse to keep chatting and smirking while I sent desperate looks at the slot machines to no avail. I almost asked if they didn't have to be in bed as they'd have to be up for the fishing soon. But we escaped unharmed. And everytime we drove past they were there, smoking outside, as they're not allowed to do it inside anymore. So we couldn't go to that pub again. Typical.

4) Oh so friendly shop assistants. At the main tourist attractions, the staffing policy seemed to be "employ students". And that was that. They were all to a man extremely sullen, bored looking, and completely apathetic. I know they've spent a whole summer doing the same thing for hundreds of tourists, but really. They could have at least pretended to look enthusiastic! At the Needles, the sullen staff were managed by a student barely older than they were, but who had attempted to grow a moustache to demonstrate his seniority. He was very amusing. He looked like a Chuckle Brother and his misguided attempts to enforce jollity to his staff were the stuff of stand up gold.

5) The Zoo. Main memory? Don't go to the zoo when it's raining. The animals will be indoors.

Birthday girls

A bit late I know, but I thought I should report back about the night out. It was brilliant, I haven't laughed so much for ages. I was so excited I thought I might be sick, and on the train there I was SUPER SUPER excited. Lady L was there first, then Miss S not long after me. Amusingly, after we'd all agreed to wear heels, Lady L didn't bother as she really wasn't very well, and me & Miss S put ours on just outside the pub. Classy! We drank 3 pitchers of cocktails which were lovely and I even attracted a freak called Brian so I knew I hadn't lost it. And Baby Babs went straight to sleep for his dad so my plan is to have lots more girls' nights out. Oh yeah!!

Old or young?!

It's coming up to me and Miss S's birthdays again and we're going out on Saturday night with Lady L. I haven't been out in so long I am nearly wetting myself with excitement. But nearing the mid 30s brings weird feelings. My immediate thought when deciding where to meet was a) would there be somewhere to sit and talk and b) would we have to wait ages to be served at the bar. That signals the onset of old age. But then I also wanted a) lots of cocktails and b) somewhere I could stagger home from in my heels which really means I am still in the prime of my youth. This was reinforced last week when I was ID'd in the supermarket. ID?! I said to the lady "I am 32" and thankfully she believed me. The days of carrying around picture ID with my birthday on it are long behind me. But I was buying wine at 10am so she might have thought I was an irresponsible yoof who was off to the park to drink and smoke pot. Then later that day a woman doing a phone survey asked my age and I said the 30-34 bracket, and she said "that can't be right, you sound far too young". Bless!! Asked for ID at 32 years of age, it made my week! Now should we go dancing after the pub? Hell yeah!

Waiting waiting waiting...

Today I am waiting in for our tv to be returned for the second time. The first time they returned it, after an hour it went funny again. They've had it for well over a month now - how hard can it be to fix a tv?! They didn't offer us a temporary set or anything so it is a good job we had a spare one, or I would have gone crazy by now stuck at home all day. Or we'd have been bankrupt as I would have had to go shopping every day instead. I'm not looking forward to it, as the old man who is bringing it back is very patronising to me - like I wouldn't know anything about electrical equipment. When I asked last time what was wrong with it, he took a big breath, and told me that it was surprising as in the summer (summer?! what's that then?) most people are out and about and not watching their televisions ALL THE TIME. Git!! I don't, it's mostly background noise to keep me company. And what business is it of his? And how is that related to what is wrong with the tv?! What, they don't like to work in the summer and it got the hump? Please.

Song "lyrics"

On a recent long motorway trip, my ears were beaten black and blue by the most godawful song lyrics I have heard in a long time. Fergie (this one not that one) has a new song out "Big girls don't cry" or some such rubbish. It is about dumping some bloke and is all "it's not you it's me", "I need some time to find me" crap (sorry it makes me mad) - and the offending line? "I'm gonna miss you like a child misses its blanket". What?! And there are too many words for the line so she gabbles it and everytime I hear it I want to stick something in my ears so I can't hear it anymore. She might as well have said "I'm going to replace you with chocolate and red wine as you are purely a comfort thing" and had done with it. Or possibly stop writing rubbish songs.

Random conversations

On the way home from town today, I passed an elderly man with one of those bags on wheels struggling down the underpass. He waved at Baby Babs saying "hello little one!" and was very friendly. As I passed him he said "bye bye, you're much faster than me, I've only got one and a half legs" - I paused at this and looked back, looking for evidence of a wooden leg or something. "It's ok!" he chirped up, "the other half is cancer!". What do you say to that?! He was so jolly about it that I got away with looking suitably horrified, saying "bye then" and waved as I hurried off...

A plea from housewives all over the UK...

...to the producers of Countdown. Whoever is responsible for the fashion travestys that Carol Vorderman wears every single day - please stop it. The "dresser" must really really hate poor Carol, and since she lost all that weight, it seems to be a mission to still make her look really terrible. Every day I wince at her latest creation, and I can't find any way to contact the show directly to plea with them so I am starting a petition now. Vote for sensible middle-aged clothes for Carol Vorderman. No more white shirts, beige skirts, thick black tights, roman togas, pinafores, cowboy boots. Make her wear a uniform or something for pitys sake.

The wrong end of the stick...

...last night Miss S texted me, but I didn't see the message till I was woken up at 2am by Baby Babs. In my defence, he has been teething (now the proud owner of 2 bottom teeth) and we haven't had much sleep for about a week. And Miss S's message was rather cryptic. But in my lack of sleep addled state I read it as "we have broken up" and replied (also at 2am) with my condolences. But to my horror, she actually meant "we are getting married". Which is brilliant! But imagine it, you are really excited having just got engaged and text your friends - and they reply assuming you have split up. Miss S, I am SO sorry, I am so pleased you are finally joining the old marrieds, and when are you having a baby so Baby Babs has a friend to play with?!

Life in Essex

A snapshot of life in Essex in a single day...

(1) Yesterday Mr Tv Repair Man came over to look at Mr B's tv. He frowned and tutted and said "ooh I'll have to take it back to the workshop". Him and his loyal assistant started loading it into their unmarked white van and then it struck me. The neighbours will all think the Repo men have been round! The shame!! Mr B thinks he has been hustled and will never see his tv again...

(2) Our neighbours have just had a baby boy - yet another boy for the street. There's only one girl, poor thing. We saw the husband to talk to yesterday, he was very proud, the baby popped out in 2 and a half hours which was very decent of it really. Now I've got the hump as I'm not the newest mum on the street and the neighbours stop me to ask about them not me. Pah.

(3) We were woken up at midnight by the sound of the police breaking down the door of the flat at the corner of our road. Again. It's working out about once a month. I wish they'd either put him in jail or just go round in the daytime. Trying to imagine what he could possibly be up to is quite entertaining though. He annoys the hell out of us as he gets a cab every morning before 7 and it always beeps it's horn and wakes us up, but that really isn't a reason to get the heavy mob involved I suppose...

(4) Baby Babs did a poo so bad I had to cut his clothes off him. Nice. I did get to feel a bit like a surgeon in the ER though which was weird.

TV

Oh yes I forgot to mention, it seems my rage at adverts made our tv blow up. Oops. It is Mr B's pride and joy (flat screen, 42" - this is like porn to him!) and now it hangs on the wall looking blankly but accusingly at me. It's weird how your eyes are still drawn to it, even Baby Babs lies on the floor staring at it. Me and BB were watching the Glastonbury highlights at the time (trying to educate him young) which Mr B takes as a big factor in the tv's demise...we had watched the Who which can't be that bad, I'd fast-forwarded Corinne Bailey-Rae, and The View had just come on so make your own judgments...

It's July so here come the terrorists...

...here we go again. They started a bit earlier this year. It is really scary, weirdly even more so now I don't go into London everyday anymore. It makes me more paranoid about my friends and family who do. But the news is typically sensationalist, giving airtime to random "eye witnesses" to rant freely. One hysterical interview I saw (I know, it shouldn't have been funny) was after the first car was found in Haymarket. The news had this extremely camp man practically jumping up and down with rage exclaiming "they tried to blow up Tiger Tiger!!! How could they?! It would be a travesty!!". Now to me, having to actually go to Tiger Tiger would be a terrible terrible experience. But this bloke was talking about it like it was The Best Nightclub In The World (tm) when it clearly isn't. If it hadn't been proved to be scary terrorists I could happily have believed it was a disgruntled partygoer who would rather drive a car into it than pay to go in.

Adverts

One thing that drives me mad now I have more time to watch the tv (albeit while wrestling a small wriggling thing, doing housework, trying to eat etc...) is the adverts. When I am Prime Minister (or Ruler of the Universe) I am going to make it the law that ad makers are strapped to a chair and made to watch their oh so clever creations at least 50 times straight. If they still have their sanity then the ad can be released. My pet hate at the moment is the AA advert, where lots of AA men sing "You've got AA (sic) friend" - it's really pissing me off. But this is probably because the AA wanted to charge me just shy of one thousand pounds for a year's insurance/breakdown cover!! How much?! I would want a hundred AA men to turn up everytime I broke down for that money and I'd probably keep taking the spark plugs out just to call them out and get my moneys worth. Damn them. Oh and don't get me started on the stupid washing powder ad where a stupid woman decides to go out to dinner in her stupid bloke's white shirt, as you do.

Baby blindness

Tip of the week: take small smiley baby shopping with you. Checkout girl will be so busy cooing and talking to the baby that she will completely forget to scan everything in your basket and you'll save a few quid. This did happen by mistake, I didn't plan it in a cunning heist manoeuvre, and I didn't realise till I got home and checked the receipt or I probably would have said something. I felt a bit guilty but it was the cheapest items she missed so I don't feel too bad! I'm off to Harrods next...

Men and chainsaws

Mr Babs and our brother-in-law attacked my garden at the weekend with a chainsaw. True, the trees were in need of severe pruning. But somewhere along the line, they confused "please prune the trees back a bit" to "try and mutilate them beyond all recognition". Or they just got overexcited to be let loose with electric power tools. Thankfully no limbs were severed in the process...

Noise police update

The day after I sent the email to the noise police, one turned up at my front door! Turns out the scout hut was running illegal raves (this is in my head, they claimed they had just had a "one off" party for someone who was leaving when asked which was quite clearly a lie) and this weekend was as peaceful as the grave. I was super impressed by their efficiency, and the man was really nice and said he hadn't told the scouts who it was that had complained. Mr Babs had visions of hoardes of angry scouts beating our door down...

Only problem now is in a few years Baby Babs will join the scouts and come home one day saying that they used to hold discos that were really good until someone complained...

Just stop watching films!

My run of bad luck with terrible films continues. I'm just not going to bother anymore. Last night we watched "The Quiet" - a new "gothic drama" advertised on the film channels - and we paid for the privilege. It was truly truly terrible!! The plot in a nutshell - family adopt deaf/mute girl. Dad is abusing his daughter, deaf/mute girl finds out, mum already knows but dopes herself up on prozac or something to block it out. Eventually deaf/mute girl kills dad when he's attacking his daughter. Mum takes rap, goes to prison. Deaf/mute girl isn't deaf or mute at all. Starts talking. The end.

Why oh why do films like this get funding?! It had that blonde girl who plays Kiefer Sutherland's daughter in 24 in it so we assumed it might be vaguely credible. Pft. I take back everything I said about Miami Vice. I swear the premise we read before deciding to watch it - and indeed the trailer - was about a different film.

Keep the noise down!

Pft, I must be getting old if I'm complaining about the noise to the council! Or not. We have a scout hut at the bottom of our garden, hadn't really noticed it before. Until recently that is - they have started having raves on a Saturday night. Our garden is 100ft long and it still sounds like they're partying in my kitchen. Even without Baby Babs to think about, it's really really loud and louder than the bars in town that pump out that techno crap the kids all love thesedays :-) Anyway, it's peeing me off, especially now I have a littl'un to try and get to sleep, so I have emailed the noise police to investigate for me. It wouldn't surprise me if they know about it already, there's a whole row of houses right next to the hut, they must have bleeding ears. Or it's them partying. But I wish they'd all sod off, if I was inclined to sit out in my garden of an evening with a glass of wine, I'd have to wear industrial ear protectors at the same time. Bloody ravers.

The worst two hours of my life this year...

...were spent watching "The Holiday". Baby Babs was asleep finally so we indulged ourselves in a film. Light romantic comedy with big names Cameron Diaz, Jude Law, Kate Winslet, Jack Black, that should be ok shouldn't it?! No. It was bloody awful. One of my Worst Films Ever. They were all so smug. SO smug it nearly made our eyes bleed. Cameron and Kate have bad love lives and swap houses for 2 weeks - one in LA, one in a picture perfect cottage in Surrey. Within these 2 weeks, they manage to get over their exes, meet the men of their dreams and sort out their inner angsts. My god. It could have been so much better. Even Jack Black couldn't save it. Jude Law is a widower with 2 kids who all just "fall in love" with quirky Cam, and she gives up a high powered movie job in LA to move in with him and become their new mum. Kate charms everyone in LA with her 'refreshing Britness' and falls for Jack Black who likes to sing the themes to movies while walking round Blockbusters. Honestly. I could still be sick thinking about it. Miami Vice was a film classic compared to this one. Do the movie makers think as long as they have enough big names in a film that the script doesn't really matter?! Honestly. I want that time back! Thankyou.

Where is my mind?

Pregnancy and motherhood take quite a toll on a normal person you know. Symptoms I have become aware of include:

1) Someone tells you to do something. You agree to do it. Then it goes out of your mind completely. Hubbie is regularly driven mad by this, especially as before baby (herein "BB") I never forgot anything and never had to be reminded to do anything. But I think he should take the trouble to remind me again after reminding me, or even do it himself! What an idea?!

2) You fall out of the loop of everything you held dear BB. Take Chris Cornell. He is my rock idol and if I wasn't married and he hadn't turned into a bit of a strange man recently then I would have run off with him no questions. I knew that he had quit Audioslave. But I didn't realise he had a new single out until I read it in Heat! Heat!! The shame!! His new album is out on Monday and I only pre-ordered it yesterday!

3) I asked Lady Librarian (who thankfully still has her finger on the pulse) if she had heard that "good new cover" of the Smiths by Mark Ronson? Apparently it's been out for months and everyone is fed up of it now. Oh righty. Same goes for the "new" Manics single. Sigh.

4) I haven't read a book that didn't start with "there once was a ..." for months and months. I have a stockpile of books I want to read but can't find the time. When littl'un is asleep I either do housework or check my emails. I need to make a rota to fit everything in. Who has time for a job these days? :-)

5) You become oblivious to sick stains on your clothes and are quite happy to leave the house as long as you are fully clothed, never mind what combination of clothes you have put together in the 2 minutes you have to get dressed before littl'un rolls off the bed and a trip to A&E ensues.

6) You are quite happy to discuss highly personal details (birth/breastfeeding/baby poo) with anyone who seems interested. And bore people are clearly aren't.

7) You have the attention span of a small gnat and can cope with 1/2 hour tv programs if they cover property/decoration/animals/tattoo artists/holidays but films and complex tv shows are completely out.

8) You learn to eat most meals in about 5 minutes flat as your previously happy and smiley baby turns into the antichrist should you have the temerity (ooh long word get me!) to try and eat a meal and not pay them your full attention for a short while.

But hey it's not all bad! It's actually quite fun, it's just adjusting to the brain decay that is bothering me! Maybe I should start doing some brain exercises...2x2 is 4, 4x4 is 16...

Animal mortuary?

Whilst feeding the little'un in the mornings, I have been watching Animal Park on the BBC at 9am. Remember the AM bit, it'll be important later. It's a documentary about Longleat Safari Park, "ooh", I thought, "lots of nice footage of monkeys and lions and it's much better than Jeremy Kyle on the other side". So far this week I have been traumatised and am thinking of writing an "appalled of Essex" letter to the Beeb. The first day I watched it a baby giraffe died. Instead of glossing over the fact, they chose to show the giraffe corpse led on some concrete obviously waiting for the incinerator. The next day a white tiger had to be put to sleep as it had cancer. Queue a shot of the corpse and a slow-motion montage of her finer moments. Then two male handlers were nearly reduced to tears reminiscing about the poor old tiger. Yesterday a pregnant giraffe had to have an emergency caesarean but the baby had died. The voiceover declared gleefully "it had been dead for so long that it had started decomposing in the womb". They then showed the poor mum wandering round looking really sad. I couldn't watch it today. I'm all for seeing nature as it really is, but honestly, whoever edits this show is a sadist. And I'm surprised there are any animals left to show us. Jeremy Kyle seems full of happy normal people in comparison and that's saying something...

Strictly playtime?!

I was strong-armed into attending a 6 year old’s birthday party at the weekend - it was only for 2 hours, I thought, how bad could it be? How wrong I was! It was horrendous. Firstly, a room of screaming 6 year olds would have put me off breeding if it wasn’t too late already. Then the games. They were led by a very efficient mother and her cohorts who had planned the festivities down to the last balloon. The poor kids were herded into lines, circles, groups etc by a whistle - and anyone who decided they would much rather just run around or dance than follow the strict “fun” guidelines got a sharp blast of the whistle and told off! Poor things. It reminded me of the Spongebob episode when he has a party and has planned the activities down to the last second and gets upset when people veer off his schedule!

And what is it with the new idea that nobody can lose at anything? All the games, pass the parcel, musical chairs etc, were played with the kids who lost being given a prize. This is probably so they didn’t feel bad, and all the kids then got the same prize, but it meant that all the kids wanted to lose and then kept sneaking back in again, so the games never finished. The mother running it all never really caught on to this and looked perplexed when the game had run on for about 15 minutes and the kids were looking very bored and there were just as many as at the beginning. What is wrong with a little healthy competition? When I was little, I thrived on trying to win things, it made me try harder. If I was going to get the same prize anyway, why would I bother? Now admittedly I was one of the brighter ones of my class and so rarely came last (apart from in sports but enough of that!) but that didn’t stop me trying. How come kids nowadays can never fail or lose at anything without people worrying it will affect them adversely? I think it is more the other way round, we’re breeding a generation of spoilt brats who have never had to face being last or losing at anything, and who are given everything they want in case they phone the social, so when they get to the real world they are in for quite a shock. My poor boy is getting a reality check the minute he can talk!

Coincidences

Ooh what a coincidence, after long periods of non-blogging, Lady Librarian and I decide to update within days of each other. She has been much more exciting since we last wrote but here's a few things I've done since my last post:

1. I had a little wee boy who has been calling the shots ever since he turned up. This is the first time I've managed to do more than send a couple of emails.

2. I've entertained (well they did the entertaining really) Lady L and Miss S a few times. Baby Babs has cried a lot at them, but he did look very fetching in the cardigan Miss S made for him.

3. That's it really.

But the main reason I am back is the Eurovision! Whoo! Is it really almost a year since Lordi triumphed? Last Saturday we had to decide who would represent the UK - I had high hopes as Justin Hawkins had entered. Sadly Morrissey changed his mind and backed out of it. Anyway, I hadn't heard JH's entry until the night and my god, it was bloody awful. Terrible. I was ashamed. Even Baby Babs had the good sense to cry throughout his "performance". But thankfully the Great British Public knew what they were doing and Scooch won. Baby Babs smiled and cooed throughout their performance, he knows his stuff that boy. I was cynical at first thinking they were rubbish, but actually they were great and me and Lady L will be making airline costumes and paddle scoreboards for our party. I swear I haven't been so excited for months when Lordi made a guest appearance at the end, I was hyperventilating and Mr Babs asked if I was still on gas and air. Roll on Eurovision!!

Librarians cut out of Da Vinci Code shocker!

I finally saw the Da Vinci Code last week and I have to say it was a bit of a disappointment. Obviously, the subject matter is quite complicated to get into a film of an hour and a half, so they chose to have a five minute bit in the middle where they just go "yeah, Jesus had a kid right and the Church don't like it much". Ok. But the worst change?! The bit where Tom Hanks visits King's College Library which annoyed me so much the first time round when I read the book? Cut!! Completely cut out of the film! There is a vague mention of having to go to Chelsea Library (which is nowhere near Temple Church incidentally) and the crucial visit to use the library databases is replaced by the French bird using some kid's mobile on the top deck of a bus to do a complex internet search which handily tells them where to go!! It was an abomination!! Insinuating that librarian search skills and library databases can be replaced by a search engine on your mobile?! Honestly. Tom Hanks, I hope you are proud. Offend the nuns if you are brave enough, but librarians?! You are a very very brave man.

Daytime tv

After spending the month of January mainly on the sofa, I can now class myself as a world expert on daytime television. And in a phrase? It sucks. When I was at university we used to spend a lot of our free time in the day watching tv (to avoid writing essays natuarally) and back then it seemed much more interesting. My schedule most days? Well after the first week I dumped the Jeremy Kyle Show for Homes under the Hammer which I do love. Watching people buy houses at auction and then paint them in magnolia holds a strange fascination. Then it's over to This Morning which has been strangely miserable of late, people's dying wishes, post-natal depression, fat people being miserable, thin people being miserable etc etc. Then Loose Women which I HATE but can't switch off. Then the news. Then 60 Minute Makeover which I also hate. Then Daytime Cooks which makes me mad when they say "are you stuck for what to make for tea tonight? Don't worry we've got some great recipes today that you can make later! First - take a live crab ... " Uh huh? I have a whole tankful of crabs in the kitchen just in case I feel like making them for tea. Then it's Countdown just to see what the hell Carol Vorderman is wearing - her dresser must really really hate her that's all I am saying. Then it's Deal or No Deal - yey! The highlight of my day (sad I know) and it does spend too much time nowadays "getting to know" the contestants, who cares?! Not me. They think they are the stars now, when clearly it's still Noel (and Mr Blobby the banker).

And that's my daytime tv fix over. My brain is mush, and I'm off to the kitchen to stun that crab.

Maybe if you don't have any pressing work to do, the lure of daytime tv lessens. There could be a whole PhD in this you know: "This Morning +/- impending deadline = interest level".

Why are there no films on in the afternoon anymore? There isn't even Murder She Wrote. Cable tv has a lot to answer for, even with 600 channels, there still isn't anything on! If Baby Babs doesn't show up soon I'm going to have to find a new hobby, writing to the tv program commissioners might be one!

Animal Idol!

The best bit so far from the new series of American Idol?

"You can't sing, you can't dance, and you look like a monkey"!!

A bushbaby to be exact, poor sod!! He did though.

The biggest difference I can see between the American and English versions of Idol is the confidence of the American kids. They seem to have been brought up by their parents with a hugely misguided belief in their own talents. Now I am all for your parents telling you you are great and to "follow your dreams" but honestly? I would appreciate a little realism check before my parents allowed me to go on national tv in front of millions of people and then get torn to pieces after 16 years or so of thinking I was the best thing EVER!

Miami WHAT?!

Man we made a HUGE mistake last night - we watched the new film version of Miami Vice. Seriously, it is one of the worst films I've ever seen. Not quite on the par of Monster's Ball, but really not far off. After the first 20 minutes I had to ask Mr Barbara if they were talking in code or Vietnamese or something as I hadn't understood a word of it. To save anyone else from the horror of having to watch it - not that I think you discerning types would even consider it but I have a husband who likes films with guns and the possibility of boobs in them - I will summarise the plot for you:

Crockett: "The DCA want the ABC to hunt down the CUD about the HOS"

Tubbs: "The HOS yeah?"

[- both look moody and macho -]

Crockett: "There's a meet and greet at twenty hundred hours at the LDI with the FFI. Gotta go"

Tubbs: [Looks moody and fiddles with a big gun]

[Cut to random sex scene with one of them and girlfriend]

[Intersperse shots of scary Colombian looking men with guns and drugs, shots of driving fast on freeways in fast cars, change to fast boat scene, insert glamorous bad girl who falls for one of the cops - more sex - lots more moody looking shots - big fight scene. All bad guys die. Bad girl goes off into the sunset. Make sure script is peppered with lots of random letters and sentences. If no words, replace with moody look and gun. The end]

Bloody doctors receptionists...

I've only got 2 weeks to go (allegedly) on Sunday before Baby Babs turns up, quite scary. Yesterday I saw the midwife who had to take my blood pressure 5 times (FIVE TIMES!!) before she was happy with it! But then she decided it all seems fine. But then there was a stupid farcical moment as she wanted to see me in 2 weeks - I thought it would be every week by now but oh no - but then she remembered she is on holiday. So she took me to reception and said could I have an appointment with a doctor instead considering the circumstances - queue a huge receptionists' debate - "oh she can't have an appointment in TWO weeks! How about 5?" - to which I was stood there pointing at my HUGE stomach and saying "that might be a little late actually". Then she said "well you'll have to come in at 8am and try and get an appointment on the day" to which I pointed to my stomach again and said "I ain't walking down here twice a day". Then they tried the other antenatal clinic that runs on a Tuesday "ooh that is full actually". Then they finally agreed they could fit me in to that clinic!! I wouldn't mind but it's not like I have a choice in the matter, and if the midwife was on holiday they should have thought about that earlier shouldn't they?! Obviously my blood pressure was just great by then!! Bl**dy doctors.

Who needs a doctor?

In one of the Sunday papers they do a self diagnosis chart for various illnesses. The best one by far was a couple of weeks ago, they managed to go from the mundane to the extremely serious illnesses in a few easy steps! The topic? "Am I a hypochondriac? What are the noises in my head?" The chart went thus:

Do you hear ringing in your ears? Yes? You have tinnitus!!

Do you hear a thudding in your head when you lie down at night? Yes? It's your pulse dimwit!! It's quite natural to hear your pulse beating you know!

Do you hear voices telling you to do bad things? Yes? You are mental! Get sectioned immediately!!

"Celebrity" Big Brother

I only watched it as Miss S told me Justin from the Darkness might be on it! Of course he wasn't, but there was a copycat rocker - Donny Tourette from "the punk band The Towers of London", who up until now had escaped my radar, I thought they were like a modern day Spinal Tap. He was hilarious, he strutted his way up the red carpet swearing at the crowd and flicking the v's at them. Someone in the crowd tried to attack him, he told them all to kiss his f'ing ass, and then showed his ass to the crowd! Rock!! He strutted into the house, still swearing and looking rock, then completely ruined it all by going "Hey! Leo!" - and it turned out he was mates with Leo Sayer!! Rock n' roll credibility out of the window in one easy move. Now I was imagining him as a spotty 15 year old having singing and dancing lessons from Leo Sayer: "come on Donny, a 1 a 2 a 3: you make me feel like dancing...get that leg in the air!"

Hee hee! But when do the REAL celebrities turn up?! You know there's a problem when even the "celebs" don't recognise each other!

That's Life?

I watched the This Life + 10 yesterday and it has depressed the hell out of me. 10 years on and they are still a bunch of self obsessed miserable wankers ('scuse the french, they deserve it). When they were in their 20s and newly let loose in London you could kind of understand it. But to be 10 years older and just the same? The only slightly sympathetic character was Warren, the token gay guy, but they had killed off his partner and made him a bit of a health freak. Ooh it made me so cross. And WHY was Milly still with Egg when he still spouted the same old rubbish, had written a book about his "friends" (poor sods) so had a bit of money but was still a git frankly?

I only hope the new Green Wing episode on tomorrow is a million times better or I'm throwing the tv out of the window.

Drunk dad update

Well it gets worse. The taxi didn't show up, queue a very long walk through very dark country lanes with water filled ditches at either side. Thankfully dad was prevented from toppling head first into one, but about 10 minutes from home he'd had enough and laid on the ground unable to move. Clumping his head on the way down. When he was eventually dragged home he had a great big shiner and a grazed head. 12 hours later he was still lying on the sofa sleeping and making the odd bit of conversation when he woke up. Allegedly he wasn't concussed, but I did advise going to the doctor's today if he was still in that state! I don't think I have EVER been that drunk. Go dad!

Happy New Year!

Well you know you've lost it when your Dad has a better New Years than you! We stayed in - not being able to drink and all takes the fun out of paying £20 to get into the local hostelry. We watched the shittest tv in the world, but did manage to stay up till 3am (whoo hoo!). 2 friends texted before 10 to wish us a happy new year as they were going to bed, and they are both younger than me! Come midnight, I texted my Dad as I wasn't sure if he would still be up either. I got 3 texts back saying the same thing - I assumed he hadn't yet worked out how to work his mobile. This morning I had another 2 texts on my mobile and a text had been sent to our landline - queue a robot voice saying "Happy New Year to you!" - bit freaky. Then I had a message from my stepmum saying Dad was "a bit the worse for wear" and she had had to get my brother out at some godawful hour to help get him home! My brother sober? My Dad pissed? And out on the piss after midnight?

The world has gone off kilter somewhat. I dread to think what else this year will bring!