The other half...

I was invited for coffee to the house of a mum I know. She is part of a group that are always doing expensive day out type things and I always cry off for lack of funds, but I thought I could manage going to her house for once. For one thing, Baby Babs loved playing with the other kids, and for another we all got to moan about our other halves. Anyway, I knew this lady had a lovely big house having been there once before, but when I got there this time she said all matter of factly; "Oh I'd get you a cup of tea but my cleaner's in at the moment, I'll have to wait until she's finished". I was half expecting her then to say; "and my butler doesn't start till 10" but she didn't. Then she confided that the cleaner was her husband's ex-wife, and she had employed her for 6 months before he found out!! What a ploy!! And she does her ironing. I am going so wrong somewhere...

Awkward situations...

...getting stuck at a party with a skanky married woman who your husband had a fling with years ago when he was too young to know any better and hadn't met you yet. You know about it, she doesn't know you know. She is super super friendly and confides all kinds of shit to you, then hits on the bright idea of having you over for coffee. Great. Thankfully she is so drunk she hopefully won't remember...and all your brain can do is think "I really don't like you, please leave me alone" and also "why is your face so hairy??!!". Mixed with "I know you are only talking to me to try to get to my husband but that ain't happening hairy lady!".

And where was my guilty husband? Hiding at the back of the party and not making any attempt to rescue me. Any other woman would have said something or made vague excuses and legged it. Not me, oh no, I took her phone number and promised to call. I am SO weak and pathetic, I had no intention of phoning but I didn't want to upset her. She's probably waiting by the phone as we speak...

Call the AA

We have family down this week, just in the evenings as they are doing other stuff in the day. And it seems I am funding one person's alcohol problem. Back in the day, one bottle of wine between two would certainly not be enough, but these days I can make a bottle last for three evenings at the weekend! Anyway, last night we had a bottle and a half of wine in the fridge, I was on my first glass and watched my drinking companion neck three glasses within half an hour, then polish off most of the rest of it leaving me a paltry second glass. Then as there was no booze left, they went home. I wouldn't mind if they had actually brought some wine round to drink! And I have a conundrum this evening. Am I tight and just buy one more bottle to last the evening knowing that I won't see much of it or buy two?! Damnit, they have blown my weekly budget to shreds as it is, I'm buying one of those mini bottles you can get and see how they like that!

Children's television

A strange phenomenon has taken over children's television. It seems to have been taken over by scottish people. Not that that is a bad thing, there just seems to be an abundance of cheery scots trying to amuse Baby Babs at the moment. Why is this?

a) it's cheaper to film and produce kiddie tv oop north?
b) the scots are all super lovely, cheery and funny and love nothing more than acting up for a camera?
c) all the plummy accented brits are flouncing about trying to get into "serious" acting and find children's tv beneath them?
d) all the up and coming northern actors are in Hollyoaks? (Saying that, a girl who was in Barnaby the Bear has now made the transition into "moody goth" in Hollyoaks, what a career move!)
e) kiddie shrinks have discovered that babies respond better to accents? And they are currently producing a new version of Noddy set in Birmingham?
f) I have uncovered a sinister attempt to take over the world by firstly dominating kiddie's tv to make us all speak scottish? It makes sense since Scotland made their bid for independence, it's a stealth invasion, bring on the whiskey!

Hmm, answers on a postcard please...

(PS Before any scots or indeed brums get the hump, I'm from oop north too and not slagging you off!)

Nails

I painted my nails the other day, I haven't done it for months and it was a small step to taking my life back from constantly looking after other people and neglecting myself. But in the end it caused more trouble than it was worth. All the family commented on it with "ooh, where are you going?" and "are you really bored at home?" type remarks. I just smiled and said nothing while inside I was raging "OF COURSE I AM NOT GOING OUT AND I AM CERTAINLY NOT BORED, I NEVER GET A MINUTE TO MYSELF! I JUST WANTED TO PAINT MY NAILS AND FEEL A BIT GIRLY!!!!"

And it was chipped within the hour.

Sigh...

Peace at last...

When you have spent the last 4 hours wrestling 3 young children who seem to want to fight constantly, the ones that weren't yours have gone home, yours is asleep, and you have a BIG glass of wine. Then you appreciate peace.

Lessons in being a bad mother

This week I have mainly been having lessons in being a bad mother. From confiscating cars that were flying round the room, to not letting Baby Babs sit on my knee after he smacked me in the face, to feeding him chicken nuggets instead of healthy nutritious fare. But the biggest lesson was a trip to a kids indoor play area thingymybob that Baby Babs' cousins go to quite a lot. We haven't been before but agreed to go along. It's all enclosed and they can't get lost or wander off so it was quite good really. And Baby Babs LOVED it, he ran round screaming and laughing and playing with the other kids. It was only some tunnels and padded play areas, but it was baby heaven to him. As I sat there watching him I thought "it's no surprise he's been throwing cars at the tv and hitting me, he's been bored out of his mind for the last 18 months". 18 months and never taken to a kiddie play place. BAD MOTHER! But saying that, it cost us £8 (!) for the 2 hour session so we won't be going lots! But I must make more of an effort to take him to the park or other places. He must be fed up of watching Homes under the Hammer and Cash in the Attic by now I suppose :-)

Library babies

So yesterday out of desperation for something to entertain Baby Babs we finally turned up to the library's "read and rhyme" session. I have been meaning to go for ages, it's only 1/2 an hour and free and I was curious to see what type of mum turns up to these gigs. And it was SO different to the baby group with the chav mothers we go to. There was a pretty inept children's librarian alternately reading stories and playing nursery rhymes on a tape deck. She sang so quietly you couldn't hear her and didn't really grab the kids' attention. The session is geared for kids from 0-5, which is a pretty big range to cover, so it was a weird mismatch of books she chose. Baby Babs had had enough by half way through and proceeded to run round the library in circles, he was entertained anyway! The mums were pretty much all chinese which was a bit strange, and one asked me how old my "little girl" was. This would be an easy mistake to make if Baby Babs wasn't the most boyish looking little boy ever, you could never mistake him for a girl!! So turning up for library events does not guarantee brains or common sense it seems. I'm not sure if we'll go again, the only plus is that if we turn up for 5 sessions we get a certificate! If it was a badge we would definitely be there with bells on.

Mmm, bread...

In my quest to become a better cook (there wasn't much to start with, trust me) I decided to make my own bread. Partly due to the RIDICULOUS prices at the moment, it is cheaper to make your own. Anyway, my grandma gave me a fancy food mixer at the weekend and it had a dough hook, so off we went! And it was bloody lovely! Obviously it doesn't last as long as shop bread with all the horrible preservatives and all, but it won't last long anyway! Though this new hobby (muffins last week, bread this week) is at loggerheads with my attempt to lose weight, dammit. Why are all celebrity chefs thin anyway? I don't trust a thin chef, they can't really eat their own food can they?!

Oh the shame...

...yesterday I was in the library looking at cookery books. There was a bright pink book called "how to be the perfect housewife" in the section which looked very inviting being big and pink and shiny and I thought it would be a laugh to see where I was going wrong. So I get to the issue desk and hand over my ticket. The librarian gets to the pink book and VERY loudly goes "Ooh the latest by Anthea Turner!! Are you a perfect housewife then?!" (while looking me up and down, I was wearing my "rock star t-shirt" and cut off trousers, no slacks and shirts for me Anthea). She might as well have put the tannoy on and gone "this lady thinks she is a perfect housewife AND she borrows books by Anthea Turner!" At this point I couldn't admit my mistake and go "ooh I don't really want to borrow it thankyou!" and instead pretended I had chosen it especially. I took it back today, I couldn't have it in the house when I flicked open a page telling me how to make my own beeswax and also to clean the fridge at least once a fortnight...something tells me I am not the perfect housewife. But I do make mean muffins.

Bye Carol!

Ooh the scandal. Carol Vorderman outrageously shunted from her role as maths expert/letter putter upper on Countdown. I knew it had to come sooner or later. Someone in power finally realised that being good at maths (but rubbish at sticking letters on a board) isn't the same as being God. Carol was way too smug these days, trying to outguess the contestants, making flirty jokes with Des, trying to get as much camera time as possible. In those outfits?! She must have been mad. If she was being paid shedloads then she wasn't spending it on clothes, most probably on vodka. Nobody is bigger than the show they work on, despite how long they've stuck it out. And yes I am sure there are loads of sad old men writing love letters or sending maths porn to lovely Carol, and the highlight of their day is watching her reach up to put letters on a board, but her time is up.

What would she do now? Mmm, it's a tricky one. Making the most of her skills (maths) and failings (dress sense) the obvious answer would be a quirky maths teacher in a girls' school. Watch out public schools of Surrey...

No! ( I mean yes, or probably...)

Baby Babs' latest word is "NO!". He knows lots of other words now but has started using "NO!" in response to every question. He obviously doesn't know what it means yet though as cunning questions reveal:

Mum: "would you like some chocolate?"
Baby Babs: "NO!"
Mum: "you are proving yourself wrong by stuffing it in your mouth there dear, perhaps you meant "yes"?"
Baby Babs: "NO!"

Nanny: "Do you want to go to the park?"
Baby Babs: "NO!"
Nanny: "So the fact that you are waving your shoes at me and standing by the door is a coincidence then?"
Baby Babs: "NO!"

Also every vehicle he sees is a "car". And every man is "Daddy" which can prove rather embarassing when we are walking down the street and he shouts "Daddy!" at every man we pass, like I've asked him to pick out a new Daddy.

...on food prices

Yesterday a bog standard supermarket own brand loaf was 65p. Today it is 72p. How?!? It actually makes more sense to buy a proper lovely tasting loaf now as they only cost 80p. I'm happy that I no longer feel forced to buy the cheap nasty bread and can revel in wheaty loveliness, but my poor shopping budget is screwed. And don't get me started on milk and cheese, I'm looking at getting a cow, that's all I'm saying on the matter...

Cop-out endings...

Bleeding authors. It takes me a lot longer to read a book nowadays (it used to be about a week if that, now it's into months) so I am very picky about what I decide to read. I like Barbara Erskine and when I saw her latest in the library I was very excited. 2 months later I finished it and it was SUCH a letdown!! I wasted all that time. She writes historical novels where characters in the present day are taken over by the spirits of long dead angry people who want to avenge something or other. The main characters secretly love each other but the spirits make them fight, then at the end they are freed and go "ooh I love you" and it's all happy! This one wasn't so bad, the suspense was built up really well, all the characters were suitably possessed and taken to some important place where it all happened originally, and then it got to the climax. The possessed characters are all together trying to kill each other or escape. But then a local priesty bloke turns up, shouts "evil spirits begone!" or some such rubbish and poof! they were gone and everyone is back to normal. HOW could it be so easy to beat them? The whole book was going on about their powers and the characters couldn't possibly fight them etc etc and all it took was a priest in a bad mood shouting at them. Pft! That was a cop-out if you ask me, Ms Erskine couldn't think how to finish it so just gave up. I might write to her and complain...

I have no idea what to read next, it's ruined me for other books.

Judge John Deed

I'm in court tomorrow as the star witness in the thieving bastards case. It would be lovely if Judge John Deed was in charge, he'd make me feel less scared and probably take me for a drink afterwards. I'm torn between excitement at the whole process (my life is all dirty nappies and Big Cook Little Cook at the moment) and terror. It's not a massive criminal case and it's against a 12 year old, but I have visions of the lawyers shouting at me like they do on the tv and convincing me I didn't see what I saw. It is all clear cut to me in my head, but what if they start throwing questions at me and being mean? I might handle it confidently and say what I saw, then again I might just cry at the nasty man being mean to me. Then again, I might recognise the lawyer as I was a law librarian once upon a time, and remember he couldn't even work a photocopier, then I won't be so scared!

Neighbours, everybody needs good neighbours...

Our neighbours are moving. This fills me with dread. They were ok as neighbours go, they have 2 kids who Baby Babs likes to shout at through the fence. And annoying relatives who turned up every bleedin' weekend and scowled at us in our own garden, I won't miss them. But who will we get instead? Going on past history one of these:

a) A young couple who don't give two monkeys about their neighbours and play loud loud music at all hours and have screaming rows in the street.
b) Proper Essex family with scary daughters who wear not very much, smoke out of the bedroom window and have screaming rows in the kitchen.
c) Someone who likes cars and spends all weekend tinkering with a knackered old Ford stuck in the garden.
d) A family with loud barking dogs, probably rottweilers, who scare the beejeezus out of Baby Babs.
e) Weird Russians who shout loudly and threateningly in Russian. Oh hang on, been there done that...

Oh joy. Luckily I am friends with the noise police, and these days I don't hesitate to get on their case. I just don't want the hassle. At least if you were renting you knew you could move relatively easily.

Sweet old ladies...

Conversation at the till in a Savers shop in Essex...

Boy behind till: "That's £3.69 love"
Old lady: "WHAT?"
Boy behind till: "That's £3.69"
Old lady: "HOW MUCH WERE THOSE TISSUES?"
BBT: "Er, £1.49 love"
Old lady: "I DON'T WANT THEM! I CAN GET THEM IN THE 99P SHOP!!!"
BBT: "Oh, ok, I'll take them off. That's £2.20 then love"
Old lady: "WHAT?!"
BBT (clearly getting annoyed now): "That's £2.20"
Old lady: "HERE YOU GO THEN"
BBT (looking relieved it's nearly over): "Here's 80p change, thanks love"
Old lady: "HERE! WHERE ARE MY TISSUES?! I HAD TISSUES IN MY BASKET!!"
BBT: "You didn't want them love, you put them back"
Old lady: "OH FORGET IT, I'LL GET THEM SOMEWHERE ELSE"

Old lady starts shuffling off, whole queue behind her starts shouting at her, she's only gone and left her shopping on the counter and is too deaf to hear them. Intrepid Bookish Barbara, despite the obvious risk to herself, taps the lady on the shoulder and gives her the shopping.

Everyone sighs with relief. She has left the premises. Boy behind till has a "I don't get paid enough to deal with this shit" expression on his face. but he wins the prize for patience!

Essex mothers

A conversation at a mother and baby group:

Mum A: "Eeeeer, what did you get up to at the weekend then?"
Mum B: "We went to a paaartay, yeah, and after a few smirnoff ices we all got our boobs out yeah, it was WICKED!!"
Me: "????!!!!???"
Mum A: "Wicked yeah! I love my boobs, they are really firm, yeah, even since I had Jordan, I wore a bra constantly for 6 months after I had 'er"
Mum B: "Ooh, yeah, they are lovely, mine are saggy, I can't do nothing with 'em"
Mum C: "I've started my diet today, haven't I? I only had 2 packets of crisps today. I'm only a size 16 so I haven't got that much to lose"
Me (in head): "A size 16?!?! I don't bleeding well think so love!" and "?!?!?!?!"
Mum A: "Ooh yer are doin' well, I'm doin' aerobics at the church hall"
Mum B: "Ooh I hate aerobics, I get all sweaty and bored. I like dancin'"
Mum A: "Well I like it. Did I tell you we just bought a new kitchen?"
Mum B: "No"
Mum A: "Yeah, AND we are going to America next month, I'm going to buy SO much stuff, we're so rich! Did I tell you Jordan's outfit is from America? We had it sent over special like"
Me (in head:) "Kill me now. Please."

Did I miss something?!

I may be getting old, but exactly which part of Amy Winehouse's Glastonbury "performance" was a "triumph" exactly?! Me and Lady L and our other halves watched it on the tv (too poor for Glasto tickets) and she was shocking. She mumbled the words, staggered around the stage, and talked incoherently for an hour. The only bit where she made sense was when she punched the fan who tried to pull her hairpiece off (though we were willing it to happen). She was on the Nelson Mandela gig the day before and was just as bad. But people are describing it as amazing and brilliant. She needs help, not people letting her go on stage in that state for everyone to gawp at.

None of the bits of Glasto I have seen have made me wish I was there. Mark Ronson was ok, but Lily Allen turned up to do her song and hadn't bothered to learn the lyrics. She said she "hadn't sung it for a while", but surely she must have been asked to do it a while ago. She could have spent 5 minutes swotting up before swaggering on stage and saying to the people who paid £200 a pop "oh I couldn't be arsed to learn them, and I can't be arsed to read them off this sheet either so why don't you all sing it instead?". Pop stars. Pah.

When me and Lady L went to Reading it was so different. Rock stars threw poo at the audience, bands were brilliant, people rolled around the site in bins. Dave Grohl licked the camera. Ah those were the days...

Skater grannies

A news story today really made me laugh! It appears that since OAPs got free travel on buses, they are really taking advantage of it and there isn't room for other (paying) passengers to get on the buses. And the coach firms that like to do OAP trips to Bognor Regis or wherever are losing business. I can just imagine people standing at the bus stop waiting for the number 102 which flies by full to the brim with oldies mooning out of the back window and dressed like skater boys and girls! Old age is the new teenage it seems, teenagers are too busy stabbing each other to get the bus anywhere fun.