Accident prone

Now BB is almost walking, well he is, he just isn't too steady, life is getting dangerous. He's fine at home with a carpet but a baby group we go to has a very sensible solid concrete floor. He got away from me today and of course fell backwards. The crack when his head hit the floor still makes me feel sick. And of course he cried (the shock I think more than anything) and I bawled like a big girl! The other mums were like "how soppy is she?" and it doesn't help BB to have me bawling and making him think something really bad has happened! What would I do if it did?! I must start to toughen myself up, I'll have to watch really sad tv and train myself not to cry. Moulin Rouge and Gladiator always do it for me. After a few intensive sessions I should be hard enough only to cry if BB hurts himself so badly he actually needs an ambulance and not if he merely grazes his thumb...

Birthday boy!

Baby Babs is now a whole year old, it's mad! He threw a little party on Saturday and lapped up all the attention. He got so many presents and ate SO much party food it is a wonder he wasn't sick as a dog. Lady L's favourite part of the day was Baby Babs crawling towards her at full pelt with a sausage roll hanging out of his mouth. He sometimes thinks he is a dog. The family all behaved themselves mainly, and I failed to get roaring drunk but I was quite merry. I think all the party food soaked the wine up. And I baked a cake for the first time in years and it was bloody lovely!! I gave most of it away and then wished I hadn't. Still there's always an excuse to make a cake. Mmm, cake...

...on children's birthday parties...

Oh go on then! Baby Babs was invited to a party yesterday and I am still mad about it. It was for an older child we know, but he still had his own invite, as did 2 other babies. We wouldn't have gone otherwise. We were told there would be food for the kids and hot drinks for the mums, which is fine. But when it was food time and all the kids sat down, it soon became apparent that there wasn't any food for the babies. Baby Babs was fine, he ate before he left home, but another older toddler was sat down at the table all expectantly, and everyone else got a bag full of goodies, and he got nada. They served all the food in separate bags so they couldn't even stretch it out between everyone who turned up. The poor little sod. And then the party bags were given out with exciting hats and balloons (which Baby Babs hearts lots) - but nothing for the babies. Honestly. I wouldn't have minded but for the personal invite, and the babies only needed a token present for turning up. The poor toddler watched his brother get fed and gifted, and I felt so bad for him.

Children's parties are a minefield! Luckily when Baby Babs turns 1 (not long now!!) we're having a few people over to ours and I'm mainly serving vodka. Don't tell the social...

Men and weekends vs women and weekends

I was so mad with old Mr Babs this weekend I couldn't speak for fear of ending up D.I.V.O.R.C.E.D. He is still on "single" mode and spends most of the weekends sleeping in, then waking up, putting the football on and cracking open a beer. That's it. Me and Baby Babs have to creep around downstairs from whatever godawful hour he wakes me up, then carry on with housework/meals etc while Mr B sits on the sofa. Ooh it drives me to distraction but I can't take it up with him without crying and starting every sentence "you never do..." which is guaranteed to start a fight. But he has a family now and we should be doing things together, you know, the old "making memories" thing. I don't want Baby Babs's first memory to be his mum with a face like thunder and daddy always sitting on the sofa with a beer in one hand and his psp in the other (that's a computer console thank you very much, we haven't quite sunk to that level yet...). How can I get him to stop thinking weekends are "his" time after working all week? Like I don't do anything Monday to Friday. Pah. Answers very welcome. Thankyou. Rant over.

2008

Bleedin' hell, what happened to 2007? It was mainly taken up by looking after Baby Babs when he turned up and then turning into a housewife. My main resolution for this year is to take my life back! It's not all changing nappies and ironing you know. I used to be fun once upon a time...

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!!