This one clearly isn't on commission...

"I just received your renewal quote for breakdown cover. You want £45. It is £28 online and your rival also charges £28"

"We can't match that, I can bring it down to £30.21 though"

"How random. Just for that I am going to your competitor instead"

"Ok"

And I will always love your money...

I just saw a clip of old Whitney in concert on the news. Jesus. Who on earth could say she was "brilliant" as one lady leaving the gig said?! And which money making underling decided she was fit to do concerts? My sister-in-law is going to one of her gigs and it weren't cheap. I would demand my money back and compensation if I had to sit through that, but then I would have if she was on form, The Darkness she ain't :)

Skips

I have noticed a new phenomenon recently. Skips. Back in the day, you hired a skip, and then spent every night paranoid that someone was going to fill it with all their crap, so you'd put a tarp on it, and hopefully fill it to the brim before the cover of darkness brought out the cheeky neighbours and their broken lawnmowers. But no more. Our neighbour has a skip, and literally every new day brings yet another transit van and someone fishing through the contents for things to take. The skip started out full and is half empty now, the good stuff is long gone but people keep looking! I might ask her if I can stick our broken crap in it now she has room, it definitely wouldn't stay in there long! There must be money in cruising round examining skips the amount of people doing it, I might stick the kids in the car and go on a forage myself :)

Cookery for glamour pusses...

I've been watching the new Sophie Dahl cookery program and it is the most bizarre thing. You find yourself watching it but after about five minutes you realise you have absolutely no idea what she is cooking but her kitchen is beautiful, she is wearing a lovely frock, and everything she cooks looks lovely! It's like food porn. I spent ages wishing I had her kitchen, then I realised it must be a studio - I always get fooled, I thought Nigella actually let a film crew in her house for ages, but Sophie's "kitchen" is much nicer, kooky pots and pans, little antiques, she uses antique looking cups to beat her eggs in...and apparently she stuffs her face with shepherds pies and cakes and stays very thin and glamorous too. I want her life! And Delia and Nigella must be kicking themselves!

Who? What?

A sign that me and Mr Babs are SO out of it these days. We have been watching American Idol, but thanks to the miracle of recordable tv we have been fastforwarding all the ads and the rubbish bits (ie most of it!). I pressed play just when things were looking interesting to hear Ryan Seacrest announce "and here is a world premiere, we are so privileged blah blah blah ... it's Diddy Dirty Money!!!"

Me and Mr Babs looked at each other, I said "I've never heard of Diddy Dirty Money, must be a new band" and we both looked on in bemusement for about 2 minutes until we realised it was actually one time Puff Daddy, then Puff Diddy, then P Diddy, and now apparently just Diddy and the song was called Dirty Money!

Doh!

And then...

I told Littl'un to stop jumping off the sofa today, he'd hurt himself. He did as he was told, got down off the sofa but then he planted his feet down, put his hands on his hips, and said "oh for fuck's sake!" and looked really aggrieved. Whilst trying not to laugh I told him he shouldn't talk like that and tried to change the subject.

I just hope he doesn't come out with that at school! And I have no idea where he picked that fruity phrase up from! We must have passed some navvies one day in Sainsburys...

All righty then...

Littl'un was playing with his cousin today. We weren't really paying that much attention to them, two 3 year olds playing together. Then we heard them giving each other pretend beers and then driving in pretend cars.

"You shouldn't drink and drive" someone told them.

"We're not drinking beer, we're smoking!" announced the cousin.

Oh that's alright then...

The story of Easter

as told to a bunch of 3 year olds at pre-school by a mad woman...

"Jesus was a lovely man. But he liked to tell people what they should do. So all his enemies decided he should DIE! That's it, pull sad faces everyone! Have a palm cross and a chicken!"

Don't have nightmares son...

Sitting waiting wishing

Yesterday I had to wait in all afternoon for the tv man. If you aren't in when they come, they immediately whack a £10 charge on your account. So of course we were in. They didn't bother to show up. When I phoned them I was told "oh it turns out your problem is affecting loads of people in your area and we will be sending a fix to the boxes soon, and we cancelled the engineer". "So you couldn't have phoned me to tell me not to stay in all afternoon with 2 small children?" "Erm, I suppose we should have".

!!!!!

I've seen it all now!

So opposite our local primary school there is an Iceland. I was there just before it opened yesterday to get yet some more hot cross buns for Baby Babs #1 (he will look like one soon). Anyways, amongst the people also waiting for it to open was a woman who was unremarkable apart from the fact that she was wearing her pyjamas and slippers. Honestly. She must have got out of bed, dropped her kids off at school, gone to Iceland, and then gone back to bed. And they weren't even just sloppy pants you wear round the house, which she would have got away with, they were clearly pink and flanelette. Lazy cow! What kind of example is she to her kids?! Some Tesco stores have banned people going in wearing their pyjamas (and skimpy vest wearing/topless men, and penguin suits) (not really, I was lying about the penguin suits) - so she was obviously limited in her choice of shop. How long does it take to throw on a pair of trousers? She could have left her pyjama top on under her coat - I suppose at least she wasn't wearing her dressing gown too...

The perils of being in charge!

Oh the pitfalls of being a mother. Baby Babs #1 is getting very bossy recently, and he loves going over to his aunty's house, I think he loves it more than being at home. I would too, he gets spoilt, to do what he wants, and never gets told off! Unlike being at home. So the other day he was supposed to go over there, but events got in the way and he couldn't go. I explained what had happened, said I was sorry but I couldn't do anything about it, and the reaction? A 3 year old in a mega sulk followed by "I don't love you anymore mummy". !!! Oh the heartbreak!! Evil little sod! But thankfully half an hour later he reconsidered and told me he still loved me really! Honestly. Whenever I have to tell him off I can see his brain thinking "you're no fun, I'd rather go and see my aunt". Whoever said parents can't be friends to their kids too was right, but it is hard work sometimes!

Neurotic mothers...

I was going through some old photos of Baby Babs #1 when he was the same age Baby Babs #2 is now. And I am sure #1 smiled alot more than #2 does. Why? What am I doing differently? Is #2 feeling neglected as I have to look after #1 too?! Or is he just genetically more miserable, more like his father?!

There's a flaw in the plan somewhere...

So we have one of those fancy tv boxes where you can record programs and watch them at your leisure. It's totally improved my life, I love it, all the series we watch are recorded automatically and you can fastforward through all the adverts, it's a marvellous invention. But recently it's gone a bit loco. So the engineer came out to look at it. "You need a new box" he says. "But what about all the programs I've recorded?" say I. "You will lose them" says the man. Right.

So they invent these fancy boxes and can't transfer the programs over if necessary? We are going to have to watch all our programs and then call them back again to replace the box. Hurray.

Dead/idiot celebs

Is there any male celebrity/sports star who hasn't had numerous affairs? So far this year there's been Tiger Woods, John Terry, Ashley Cole, Vernon Kay and now little Mark Owen from Take That! I don't know how he got away with it what with all the obsessive Take That fans stalking him. But what is it with these men? Is it that once you have everything - big house, money, cars, girlfriend/wife and/or kids - life gets dull and you have to fill it with how much you can get away with? Is it like cat and mouse with the tabloids?!

And if they aren't all having lurid affairs, they are all dying young by being stupid or careless . Step forward Kristian Digby, Corey Haim, Heath Ledger...

They might as well just report celebs who die old of natural causes, have blissfully happy marriages, and no scandal at all. But where would be the fun in that?!

Blog interview

If you're interested, there's a bit more about me here:

http://bloginterviewer.com/music/ohh-dont-get-me-started-bookish-barbara

Oh and the irony, me an aspiring proofreader and they spell my link wrong! It's OOH not OHH - it makes a difference you know :)

I give up!

So in the news today they say the government are thinking about making it compulsory for dog owners to take out insurance in case their dog attacks someone. This is mental. Not only is it penalising everyone for the small minority of idiots who have dangerous dogs or who use them for intimidating people, it is also possibly the stupidest idea I've heard in a long time. We don't have a dog, but Mr Babs and now Baby Babs are quite keen and all we need is more expense related to owning a pet. And like in the world of car insurance, the ones who are dangerous, idiots, morons, or worse are exactly the ones who won't bother to get any insurance. So what exactly is the point?! Surely it is up to the police/rspca to deal with stupid people with pets. In exactly the same way it is up to the police to deal with people with knives or guns. They aren't suggesting that when people go to buy kitchen knives they have to take out insurance just in case they decide to stab someone with it are they?!

Honestly.

Bad influence

Littl'un was playing imaginary train journeys at the weekend, he got on the train (beanbag) and I asked him where he was going?

"Only the bookies" he said gleefully.

I really hope he doesn't come out with this at school! Imagine the shame. It's all his father's fault.

Men!

Hubby is famously unsociable and it is more than my patience is worth to try and force him to do anything anymore, hence we have no social life. Yesterday my friend asked us to meet her for a coffee in town, only a coffee, not a dinner dance or a weekend in a cottage in the Yorkshire Dales. Typically he refused. So we went anyway. It was super lovely, and when I got back he had hoovered the entire house! Result. I forgot this happens, he refuses to do something that might be a teeny bit fun, I go and do it anyway, and the minute we are gone he feels guilty and tries to make up with housework. I'm doing this every weekend now, even if it's an imaginary friend I'm having coffee with (we can meet up with littl'uns ghost next week) :)

Kids!

Littl'un was upstairs having a wee. I heard him talking animatedly and then saying "bye bye! bye bye!".

When he came downstairs I asked him who he was talking to?

"Only the ghost," he chirped. And I believe he was!

Then this morning when he was still asleep he said "I don't want to tidy up!". Do you think I have been emphasising this point somewhat in the daytime?!? He's dreaming about being told off! No wonder he has befriended the local ghosts!

Save 6 Music!

How can the Beeb even consider closing down 6 Music?

It is the only radio station on the planet that regularly plays Shed Seven and for that alone it should be saved!

Keep my big mouth shut!

So for 3 straight nights, Baby Babs #2 only got me up once in the night. Marvellous ,I thought, this is the life! After the third night, I started telling people "he only woke up once! Isn't it brilliant?". Every night after that he has woken up three times instead. I wish I had kept my big mouth shut., he'd still be only getting up once then instead of taking revenge on my optimistic nature. Crap!

Inside the twisted minds of children...

Littl'un always comes into our bed at some point in the night, and then complains mightily when even littler'un wakes up for a feed and disturbs him. I asked him why he woke up every night, was he cold, was he too hot, was he unwell? He said:

"maybe there was a man in the garden".

The "maybe" freaks me out more than the man in the garden bit! And I am still no wiser...

Ikea circa 1995...

Being a stay at home mum, I catch a lot of daytime tv. I love antique ones like Cash in the Attic, where rich people sell all their heirlooms to pay for helicopter lessons and the like. But programs like this won't be around forever. My generation don't have lofts full of antique vases and bookcases that fetch £2000 at auction. If they ever came round my house it would be a case of "well here we have a fine example of a Billy bookcase from Ikea, and look!, a cd cabinet from the Argos home collection circa spring/summer of 2002!". It is a shame, maybe I will inherit loads of lovely antiques one day, but then my dad hasn't got much in the line of aged furniture either...unless you count his DFS sofa from the 90s :)

Out of the mouths of babes...

The other day we were on a mini road trip to visit an old friend. As we came over the brow of a hill, you could suddenly see for miles over fields. Littl'un in the back seat piped up in a voice full of awe "I can see the WHOLE WORLD from here!!!." Bless!

Then today we were taking the mickey out of him, he didn't know what to play with and I was listing all his toys. It went along the lines of "play with your cars" "no" "play with your farm" "no" so I tried "play with your willy". Littl'un laughed uproariously at this and said "my willy isn't a toy!!" and proceeded to wet himself laughing at the very idea. A brief look at his father confirmed he was thinking "yes it is son, yes it is..."

Obsessive children

If I have to watch one more episode of Scooby Doo I think I will scream! Why do children obsess about things? It was Peppa Pig for ages, then Thomas, then Spongebob. Now it is Scooby Doo and the Simpsons. Constantly. Perhaps I should be radical and actually turn the tv off! But then I would have to entertain said obsessive child and I am a terrible mother at times, especially when the new born hasn't slept much at night! Oh I feel guilty now...

Misheard lyrics

I barely get to listen to music anymore, mainly in the shower, which explains my recent lyrical confusion...

So I'm loving the new Courteeners song which is being played alot on Xfm. I loved it even more as the chorus seemed to go: "You own a tanktop, you own a tanktop, you own a tanktop". I was convinced it was written about male librarians and was super excited that someone had decided to write a song about them! Then I saw the video on tv.

It turns out the song is called "You overdid it doll" and that is what is being sung, albeit quite quickly, and in a Mancunian accent.

It somewhat spoiled my enjoyment of the track. I am an idiot. Who would write a song to male librarians? Apart from perhaps Morrissey...

Tattoos

So I want to get the boys' names tattooed on me. But where? It is hard to think of a suitable spot. Their Dad has just had his done on his upper arm, but I want one I can see most of the time. Which rules out my arse :) I was thinking of having them on my wrist, but a quick google of images put me off, half of them look like they are trying to hide razor scars which isn't the look I am going for. Someone I know has them on her shin, but then I am not sure about that either. I could do a "love/hate" type tattoo on my knuckles, then I can slap the boys with the hand with their name on (joke Mr Social Services!) - oh it is difficult. Maybe I'll go totally rock and have them on my neck, then when I do go back to work everyone will think I am trouble!

Well technically I can't argue with you...

So my 3 year old's pre-school sent a letter home asking us to practise counting forwards and backwards, and rhyming words together. "This looks easy", I think, and proceed to do some rhyming with the boy.

Me: "What rhymes with 'frog'?"
Boy: "???"
Me: "What SOUNDS like 'frog'?"
Boy: "Ribbit"
Me: "!!!!" (thinking, well I can't argue with that, he is right really)

Help!

Tomorrow is our 5th wedding anniversary. We are going out for a meal, the first time we have been out sans children since last year's anniversary.

What the hell will we talk about??!

I want to staaaaayyyyyyyy!!!

Yesterday while handing a form in for son #1 at what will hopefully be his new school come September, he went loco. He thought he was starting already, tried to get into a classroom and screamed the place down refusing to leave! The secretary looked bemused and said "they usually scream when they are left here, not because they want to stay!". I hope they didn't note his name down as potential trouble as I dragged him out of the school looking like the world's worst mother...

Books? What are they?

While dropping son #1 off at pre-school last week this happened. My librarian genes are still in shock...

To set the scene, a mum & little girl walk in, girl is holding an umbrella. Other people there include a hippy dad, who is a proper hippy and very clever. The mum says to everyone that she wonders why the girl insists on having the umbrella up as it isn't raining. Hippy dad starts quoting from the Winnie the Pooh scene where Pooh has an umbrella. All the mums look blankly at him. He says hopefully: "Winnie the Pooh?" to which the mum says; "oh, I must have missed that episode".

He bleakly says "it is a book."

To which the mums go back to their discussions about boob jobs and chianti. Poor poor man.

Babies

So baby #2 arrived almost a month ago and it is so weird how different he is to his brother! He eats, then he sleeps, and that is about it. He only cries when his bum is changed or when he is hungry, and then he is fine. Me and Mr Babs keep thinking something is wrong, baby #1 cried a LOT of the time and we spent every night trying to get him to sleep (mostly unsuccessfully) for months. New littl'un gets fed and then goes to sleep no problems. It is either that we are a bit calmer having been there before and so the baby is calm, or baby #1 really wasn't very happy. Either way, it is nice to have it this way round, I would hate to have a lovely calm baby first then one from hell! And it makes me pleased that we actually braved having another one facing a repeat of what we went through the first time...

Though saying that, baby (well toddler) #1 is now a lovely happy little boy (most of the time) so I bet by the time #2 is his age he will have done a total about face and turned into real trouble!!

Pointless conversations...

A man called me today about Great Ormond Street Hospital. Yep, I agreed with him, lovely hospital, very good work, blah blah blah. Then he came out with:

"Right, so can you give us £20 a month?"

I actually laughed out loud at that, and had to explain that I would love to but having no money at all would make it quite impossible.

"I quite understand," says man, "blah blah blah, lovely hospital, sick children, now how about giving us £10 a month?".

So again I say, would love to, maybe in a few years, but impossible. Sorry.

"Oh ok," says man, "blah blah blah REALLY sick children, I am sure you appreciate just how SICK they are and how much they and their parents are suffering. How about £3 a month?"

Me: "You can keep asking but I still have no money".

By this point I was quite cross, was he going to keep going till we got to 1p a month or something? Maybe if I'd kept going he would have agreed to give me £20 a month instead. I hate being made to feel poor, and explain why I have no money. He should have given it up at £10 and said "well if you could contribute whenever you feel you can that would be lovely". Instead he's made me really cross, but at least they won't keep ringing me up now asking for money. Whoever trains these people to ring random numbers and ask for money really has the wrong idea, keep going on and on at poor people who have explained why they can't help you is actually having the opposite effect. Barnardos actually launched into a graphic description of child abuse to me one Friday evening and it was only afterwards I realised how offensive they really were - how do they know I haven't been affected by awful things and their idiotic attempts to get donations had stirred it all up again? Grrr. I am learning to be rude to cold callers but I really wish I had told that one where to stick it :)

Holidaying in Essex

Due to lack of funds this year, we just had 4 days in a caravan by the seaside in Essex. I don't think we will be doing it again, staying at home for a week seems preferable at the minute. The "high"lights were:

1) Eating lunch and being disturbed by local druggies arguing over a stolen phone. This included much cursing and "swearing on my kid's life" that the man with the phone bought it "legitimately" off a girl's one night stand who handily nicked most of her stuff in the morning before he left...

2) Walking along the beach and stumbling upon a topless granny trying to top up her tan. This might have worked in Magaluf. Not in a very breezy sunless Essex seaside with the tide coming in.

3) Going out for tea to the local pub and disturbing a bunch of kids smoking dope on the pub climbing frame and blatantly making drug deals on their mobiles. As my 2 year old was breathing in their smoke I got them chucked out and then had husband refuse to speak to me for getting involved. Would he rather we had to deal with a 2 year old on a comedown than say anything?! I am 35. They were probably 16. They can bloody well sod off to the local bus stop and do their drug dealing.

4) The "entertainment" at the park in the evening involved 2 very young and camp reps trying to get a reaction out of about 7 bored and fed up holidaymakers. But we did trounce the competition in a tv themes quiz and won a clock. Lovely. We didn't dare go back after that as they looked quite cross.

5) Spending god knows how much money trying to win a teddy for littl'un on those machines where you have to pick them up with a scoop thing and hope they don't fall off. We didn't win one, they are so fixed. It would have been cheaper to just go to a shop and buy one.

6) Being invaded by ants on our first night. They were marching under the door up 3 big steps into the caravan and we were in peril of being bitten to death. Littl'un enjoyed stomping on the incursion and then a handy application of fairy liquid along the doorframe seemed to stop them for the rest of the holiday.

And the lesson is? Stick with Cornwall, it may be further but it seems to have less druggies and random freaks. Everybody we saw was either disabled, on drugs, drunk, or clearly on the social with several little kids clinging to them while their druggie dad was arguing with someone else. Classy.

Late night munching

So some highly paid boffins have just published a study which says that "eating late at night = weight gain". Honestly, did they really need a study to show that?! How do people get paid to come up with doing studies like this?! It's like asking me to study if pregnancy = weight gain. In fact I am going to submit my proposal to some scientific board and my expenses will be "cookies, ice cream, crisps" and in about 8/9 months I can prove my theory :)

Soul mates?!

In a vain attempt to keep my brain engaged, I've been doing jigsaws - 50p from the local charidee shop, can't be bad! Anyway, so far none of them have been missing any pieces, which made me suspect that someone who volunteers there tests them all before they sell them. Then the last one I got, someone had separated the outside pieces from the inside pieces and bagged them up all neatly!! I am not alone!!!

'Orrible kids

So we went to a play place today, hadn't been before but it sounded alright. And I came THIS close to duffing up a 5 year old boy who was the incarnation of Damien from the Omen. He was there with his gran, who was oblivious to his bullying, snatching, and general nastiness. He even tried staring the adults out after upsetting their kids! Little sod. I used to think I wanted to be a teacher, but unless it was the Anne of Green Gables type school with beautiful, polite, intelligent kids dying to learn and totally in awe of me, I'd be no good, I'd have expelled half the class before hometime!

And don't get me started on the cafe - 10 minutes to make 2 coffees and then when they were THIS close to me, dropped on the floor and we had to start all over again! Sigh...life out of the workplace isn't so much more relaxed you know!

Kiddie park or drug den?!

So I was a very good mum today and took littl'un to the park. Doesn't happen often, I must be sickening for something. Anyway, there were a couple of other mums there, but then they left and we had the whole place to ourselves. Apart from 2 teenage boys hanging around outside the gates. After a while I got a bit nervous, they were definitely waiting for something. Then some other teenagers came into the park, and the first two went up to them, blatantly sold them drugs, and then returned to leering at me. So we left pretty soon after, and when I looked back, they were sat on the kiddie swings rolling a big joint!! Every damn time we go to that place we see drug deals, the car park is a hot spot for people to drive in, talk to the local hoodlum on his bike who just happens to be hanging around, and seems to know everybody, and then drive off rapidly with a big bag of something illegal in their dashboard. If the police cracked on to this they'd make more arrests in about 2 hours than the rest of the week wandering round the streets! Bloody drug dealers!!

Parenthood

So against everything I said last time round, I'm having another baby. Lovely. Due just before Christmas - so that is cancelled then! So far it's been going as before, not many symptoms which is good, but I am the size of a house already, not so good. Anyway, also like last time round I had a letter from the hospital. Following my blood tests, they want Mr Babs to have his blood tested for some medical thing that mainly affects african men. So I rang them up and said he'd already been tested the first time round and did he need to be tested again as he still isn't african? The man laughed and said "no, but we assume pregnant ladies are with different partners than the last time round so we had to check". Lovely. So the prevailing opinion in my part of the world is that all the women have babies with different dads. I really love Essex.

Vandalism - the Essex way

So on Saturday night I was awoken by the sound of a ruckus outside. As if I don't get woken up enough by Baby Babs crying and Mr Babs going for a wee, now you can add young hooligans to the list. Marvellous. Picture the scene: quiet surburban street, 1ish in the morning, lovely summer's night (hence all the windows being bloody open), cut to:

Thug 1 (Let's call him Bazza): "AAAAGGGHHHH. Man I'm drunk man! AAAAGGGGGHHHH!"
Thug 2 (Let's say Shane): "Awright man! Wot a night eh? Mwah mwah mwah"
Shane's moll (Let's call her Shaz): "Mwah mwah mwah" (this symbolises lots of slurpy snogging against a lamppost)
Bazza: "Right man, wot a night! WOT A NIGHT!"
Shane/Shaz: "Mwah mwah mwah"
Thug 3 (Gazza perhaps?): "Ere! Let's nick this for sale sign [belonging to our neighbours] - if we take it to the shop they'll give us a fiver for it!" [I have no idea if this is true but doubt it very much].
Bazza: "Yeah man, why not!"
Bazza/Gazza - Tug, thump, smash.
Shane/Shaz: "Mwah mwah mwah"

The next day it appears that they got fed up of carrying the sign by the time they got to the bottom of the road and dumped it. They left the remains of the post outside our house, obviously trying to lay the blame with us. All the other neighbours think they have taken their house off the market now as they have failed to have it replaced yet!

You really couldn't make it up. What must I miss in winter when the windows are closed?!

You couldn't make it up...

I love this story (in a gory way) - binmen refused to empty a bin as it was too heavy, failed to notice there was a foot sticking out of the top, and the reason it was too heavy was because there was a body in it. It stayed there for 3 weeks before anyone noticed.

Strange dreams

So last night, Gazza wanted me to go out with him. I said "oh I'll have to speak to my husband first", to which he replied, "tell him it's me, it'll be fine".

And as Gazza is his hero, I am sure it would have been :)

Britain's Got Talent (and pushy mums and rubbish people)

So I only got into watching this as BB refuses to go to bed at a sensible hour and we have to watch non violent/sexual/swearing tv until he finally succumbs. And it has made me so mad. Why?

Point 1: When that little girl in the tutu was crying and really upset and overwhelmed by the whole thing, what did her mum do? Scoop her up and refuse to let her carry on?! No. She stood there pleading for her to go back up and do it again. Pushy mums anyone? Any normal mother would have refused to let their child become such a martyr to fame and fortune. I was half expecting when she didn't win the final her to throw herself on the floor and scream and kick until they "let her win".

Point 2: Sob stories. The guy with the saxophone was clearly talented, but he cried every 2 minutes. Honestly. Imagine if he just went to a normal audition to be in an orchestra, let's say. The bloke in charge says "so, can you play?" and he bursts into tears. "Next!" In all these reality shows, they all have sob stories, next year I'm going to enter with not much talent to get me through but I will have a fantastic story for the papers to feed on. "I haven't had any sleep since January 2007" perhaps, or "we have no money and I need some, thanks" - all served with plenty of tears and angsty looks down the camera.

Point 3: People with no talent at all but who think they are brilliant. Enough said. What were their parents thinking? This is a lot more prevalent in the American equivalents, you really have to wonder if they are deaf or drugged up to the eyeballs.

Tweet tweet

So it appears that Twitter has robbed me of my ability to write more than 140 characters. It is weird, I used to love blogging and thinking of things that annoy me to moan about. Now I have to think of witty concise sentences for Twitter and Facebook and that is actually harder! So I think it's time to revisit the no restrictions blog and have a rant. I think I'm also a bit worried that someone will sue me if I say anything bad about famous people, but what else is the blog for?! I only have celebrity and dirty nappies in my life. Oh and vegetables now. Rock.

So what has gotten the goat of Bookish Barbara recently?

1) Morrissey was 50! 50!!! I always thought he was like Peter Pan, the boy who never grew up. Now I have to admit that Morrissey certainly aged, he was certainly no Dorian Gray, but 50?! Really?! How did my heros get so old?

2) Having to have sneaky bbqs as you know you should invite your relatives , but really? Every single time? Apparently so. And if we are discovered, jeez the moaning!! And having to think of lame excuses not to go to theirs every time, just saying "no thanks" is never good enough. We have yet to come up with a plausible excuse that worked.

3) Bloody Britain's Got Talent. In the lack of other tv being on I have been watching this. I can tell you that, mostly, Britain Hasn't Got Talent. A few really good ones yeah, but most were good the first time for the shock value - you didn't expect that woman to sing like that, 2 fat men sticking bags up their arses (yes really) - but the second time around, no no no.

4) American Idol. Adam Lambert wuz robbed. I don't know what America thought they were doing. And having to avoid the internet for days to avoid seeing who won when it was shown in the US was annoying and I gave up and looked, thankfully this saved me from having to sit through the 2 hour finale only to be crazy angry at the result! At least he is free from having to sing that godawful song written for the winner and can do what he likes now.

5) Comebacks. All the 80s bands reforming is starting to get annoying. Why don't they just write to all the members of their fanclubs saying "we is a bit poor, could you give us some dosh? We'll come round and play in your front room for twenty quid. Cheers. xx"

6) Children pooing in their pants. Baby Babs has been nappy free for 2 whole weeks - this has been mostly incident free. But the incidents that have occurred have involved poo, lots of poo, pants, complex operations to remove pants to make the least possible mess, realising this is impossible, poo everywhere. Lovely. When asked why BB didn't ask to use the potty, expression says "because I can do it in my pants".

Aah, see I knew I could write more than 140 characters! I could have gone on...

Shallow?

So I was very shocked to read that Jordan and Peter Andre are splitting up. Absolutely shocked. I was perusing the possible reasons for this unforeseen D.I.V.O.R.C.E. and I came up with a few.

1) The wedding was mostly done for publicity reasons, not your old fashioned lurve. They had a contract to stay together for so many years, do so many reality shows, have so many kids and then call it a day.
2) After failing to break America and with falling ratings back in Blighty, and short of having a terminal disease to fall back on, they hit on splitting up. And then in 6 months or so, reconciling and having another wedding - all with the wonga of OK magazine.
3) Katie/Jordan couldn't bear another day of listening to Mysterious Girl from the shower, and short of having Pete killed, went for the other option.

4) Pete finally admitted he couldn't stand big boobs or fake tan. Well not on other people anyway :)

5) They finally saw the light and couldn't live the charade anymore, and were totally fed up having cameras following them around everywhere, and are off to live in Guatamala with a few goats and stuff. The "split" takes the heat off for a while...

I am going with option 2 myself, and putting a fiver on it at the bookies! Could they be so shallow?

[Nb. these are my personal musings and please don't sue me].

Facebook etiquette

So someone I know wanted to be my friend on Facebook. And I don't want to be but they are related so I can't get by just ignoring them. It is ruining my Facebook experience, I only added them 10 minutes ago and they are on all the time blocking updates from people I want to hear about! And I just know they will try and befriend half my friends on there and they will hate me! It just proves the virtual world is still beset with social awkwardness and having to be polite to people you really don't want to be polite to. Ho hum. I'll have to join another site now!

Winos and supermarkets

Bloody bloody supermarkets. Why do I keep going to them? Today, with it being Easter and all, I thought I'd treat myself to some wine. 3 for £10? Lovely. But the checkout woman was extremely ditsy and after checking everything else on the receipt at the store, lots of 3 for 2s, 2 for 1s, BOGOF's, it was only when I got home and unpacked that I noticed the wine offer hadn't worked and I'd been charged over £20!! £20!!! For 3 bottles of wine!! So Baby Babs was bundled back in the car and off we went to confront Customer Services Lady. It appears that in between me picking the wine off the shelf where it was clearly labelled 3 for £10 and getting to the checkout, they had taken the labels off and stopped the offer. The lady laughed "oh yes, they were just sorting the wine section out, sorry about that!". So this leads me to the question: "WHY DIDN'T THEY DO IT BEFORE THE STORE OPENED????!!!"

But she did give them to me for a tenner and I made her refund my second parking ticket. Damn them.

So

So I've just noticed that I have started the last few blog posts with the word "So...".

Am I turning into a stand-up comedian?! I'll be telling you jokes about the mother-in-law next.

Folks

So my dad is coming to visit today, he lives oop north so comes down every couple of months or so. He doesn't even stay 24 hours, comes Saturday lunchtime, leaves after breakfast on Sunday. But this necessitates a thorough clean of the entire house (even the bedrooms which he doesn't even go in!), gardening (it's now raining), washing, ironing so it's not dumped on the table like usual, cleaning of Baby Babs and self. This all takes longer than his actual visit.

I am abnormal. Anally retentive even. Neither he or my husband even bloody notice.

Earth hour

So I overrode my non-environmentally friendly husband's moaning and switched off all the lights for Earth Hour. If nothing else it'll save us a few quid on the leccy, I might do it every night. So I got out all the candles, Baby Babs was in bed, I thought "ooh how romantic, my luck might be in here". Husband complained for 45 minutes that it was too dark and then fell asleep on the sofa. The romance is dead...

Online confusion

So, I have three different internet updating things going on, this, Facebook and Twitter. At the moment I am trying to cover different topics on all three which is bloody hard work. And why? I have a few friends who know about all three of them, and while I am sure they don't want to read the same things three times, why am I bothering?! I know you can get your Twitter updates to show up on your Facebook as updates but I had to stop that as it was bothering me. And on here I am kind of anonymous which is great when slagging off the neighbours or immediate family.

I don't know what my point is.

Twitterings of a Rock God

So I signed up for Twitter after Lady L did. And it confuses me. It's like the best bit of Facebook (the updates) but on a different site. And as I didn't have many friends on there I started following famous people instead. And then Chris Cornell started up on it. And it weirds me out.

Firstly, I can't be sure if it is actually the real Chris Cornell. He updates so often - surely a bona fide rock star would be too busy throwing tvs out of windows and being off his face on JD to tell the world silly things all the time?

Secondly, if it is indeed the real Chris Cornell, his updates are usually so banal (for a rock star, sweet for a normal person) - he misses his kids, he's getting on a plane etc etc. , that my long held adoration is being tampered with. I blanked out the fact that he was married with kids now, and held on to the fact that he was living a miserable alcohol-raddled existence as he knew that I was married with kids now and he had missed his chance.

So it begs the question: would I rather know what he is having for his tea tonight or hold on to a long held obsession with a "Chris Cornell" who obviously doesn't exist in the real world? At the moment, nosiness wins everytime. I'll just have to find a new Rock God to replace him :)

Call the social!

Today Baby Babs decided to headbutt the toilet trying to retrieve Bob the Builder from underneath it. He has a marvellous shiner now. This adds to all the other cuts and bruises that adorn his body (legs mostly) as he is a clumsy little boy at the moment. We were in the supermarket after said toilet incident and BB decided to do a runner. I had to chase him out of the supermarket and finally caught up with him, and like a good mother, proceeded to chastise him for running off.

It was only afterwards I realised what we must have looked like. Young child legging it, covered in bruises, big black eye, chased by irate mother, then manhandled into buggy kicking and screaming. I looked like I beat him regularly! How bad is that?! And I can totally see how easy it is for people to get the wrong end of the stick and report you for child abuse. Scary.

Warring mothers

Oh my god. I am stuck in the middle of the most ridiculous situation. I know a mum who has a little girl just a bit younger than Baby Babs. I know her through someone, I wouldn't say we were friends particularly, but well enough to exchange presents last year for the kids birthdays. This year my friend has fallen out with the mum and they don't talk anymore. I don't see this other lady much, just at the baby group if she turns up, which she hasn't been doing, probably to avoid my friend. Last time I saw her, we bumped into each other in town just before BB's birthday. She was super friendly and then surprised me by giving BB a present for his birthday. I hadn't seen her since. And it's her little girls birthday on Monday. I got her a card and was wondering what to do about a present. I felt like I ought to, as she got BB one. Then today she turned up at baby group, pointedly ignored both me and my friend, and refused to let her little girl play with our boys.

So why do I feel really mean about not giving her a present and possibly not even the card?! Wouldn't it look stranger if I did give her something considering the fact I haven't spoken to her for 3 months and when I see her she ignores me? It wasn't my argument and I was always friendly to her, I didn't even take sides. This motherhood lark is a minefield. And why do I give a monkeys?!

Say what you mean!

Our neighbours are pregnant again, third one god help them. But they have made no secret of the fact they want a big family. Today was the first scan, after which you can tell everyone. I was in the garden when Mrs Neighbour told the old lady who lives on the other side of them. She is the one who told me when I was heavily pregnant that her granddaughter had just had a baby and it was disabled, and I ought to be prepared just in case. Thanks. Anyway her reaction was priceless!

Pregnant lady: I've got some news for you. We're having another baby!"
Old lady: "OH MY GOD" (in a voice of doom)

Now even if you think someone is crazy for having another baby, and you think it might have been a mistake, you don't actually say it to their face!

Supermarket update

I went to the supermarket yesterday, the one that blockaded the aisles. And halfway round I noticed an odd thing, the online shopping order staff with their MASSIVE trolleys were all parked neatly at the end of the aisles, not down them. And they all looked super pissed off that they had to walk a bit further! Hee hee, it really made me laugh! Power to the people! All the funnier as I did email them to ask what their policy was and got a stock reply that "in 24 hour stores, they have to do these things sometime" - despite the fact that my local store isn't a 24 hour one! But they actually took heed and did something. I will feel bad when I get a job in a supermarket and they tell me I am on the online order section though...

Odd babies

Why is it children can make you want to laugh and cry at the same time? This week I had done my ironing and had it all neatly piled up in a basket waiting to go upstairs. I wasn't paying full attention to Baby Babs, he was pootling round between the kitchen and the lounge, but then I realised he was beaming at me very proudly. What had he done? He had very carefully taken my neat pile of ironing and stuffed it in the washing machine! It's his father's fault, when he comes home he makes BB put his dirty socks and pants in the washing machine, and he obviously associates piles of clothes with washing and was only trying to help. I had to laugh while trying not to cry.

Then the other morning I was dozing in bed trying not to have to get up while BB ran riot round the bedroom. He came up to me shouting "Mummy! Eyes!" and I turned round to find him THIS close to my face and wearing my glasses.

He also refuses to let anyone trim his nails, toe or finger, and can spend a long time trying to pick them off himself. But then, unlike any man I know, he doesn't throw them on the floor or pile them on the end of the arm of the chair and leave them there. He puts them in the bin.

The boy is a bit odd.

Zdravstvuj

Like the wonderful mother I am, I took Baby Babs to the park yesterday afternoon. It was basically a bribe, we went to the library first and I said if he behaved I'd take him on the way home. I've never seen a quieter child! We had the whole play area to ourselves for a while which BB loved, then another lady and her son turned up. And suddenly the play area turned into Eastern Europe. She was Polish and couldn't speak a word of English which made it very difficult to try and converse. The boys got on like a house on fire, chasing each other round and shouting "whee!!" and whatever it is in Polish, for ages. But it made it very awkward, all we could do was smile at each other. We went to another park last week and the other woman in there was Russian, and she was shouting at her kids in that scary "I will kneecap you if you don't get off that slide" Russian way of speaking. How am I supposed to make new friends if Essex has turned into the new Poland/Russia?! I might have to start learning the lingo, at least "how old is your little cherub?" and "do you come here often?". I might get back "he's 3 and we're just waiting for our flight home from that airport we heard Romford had".

A different perspective

I've been reading Rumpelstiltskin to Baby Babs recently, and I don't quite remember the dark undertones running through the story. If the girl can't spin straw into gold she must DIE and if she succeeds she gets to marry the king. How gracious of him! And then Rumpelstiltskin wants to take away her first child to do what with I couldn't figure out. Probably eat. Luckily Baby Babs doesn't really understand, he just likes listening. I'm going to have to vet all the books in future, perhaps our library only stocks the dark versions of stories, like the one where the Three Little Pigs are spit-roasted by the wicked wolf, and Little Red Riding Hood is sold into white slavery by her Grandma who is secretly involved with Mr Wolf, and who moves to Tenerife with the profits after being helped to find a villa with A Place in the Sun.

I bet these versions exist somewhere...

Reasons to live in Romford

I am always a bit scathing of living in Essex, not being born and bred. But our local paper this week listed "100 reasons to live in Havering" and there are some gems. I am quite proud now. The highlights?

1) Five Star come from Romford.
2) Seal lived in Romford for a bit.
3) Jilly Cooper was born in Hornchurch (posh bit).
4) Steve Davis the legendary snooker player was discovered playing in Romford Snooker Hall.
5) Ian Dury came from Upminster (posher bit).
6) The Prodigy filmed the video for Voodoo People in Romford Market.
7) John Motson bought his sheepskin coat from a man in Hornchurch.
8) Frank Lampard was born in Romford (can't have it all) and Tony Cottee lived in Collier Row (rough bit).
9) The Beatles played in Romford twice in 1963.

And the piece de resistence?
10) Richard Madeley comes from Romford!!

And the most bizarre fact:
11) There used to be a regular air service between Romford and Paris in the 1930s. I wonder if they were only one way fares? Who would want to come back?

Conversations...

Conversation with a new mother who turned up to a baby group one week:

New mother: "Eeer! This is me latest, Jade-Britney, she's only 8 days old!"
Me: "Ooh, lovely. Isn't she small?"
NM: "Yeah! Me other kids are over there, there's Justin on the tractor and Christina is asleep in the buggy. Oh an' Madonna-Mariah is at school."
Me: "You're brave coming out so soon after the birth."
NM: "No problem, she just popped out, innit, like the others, I told the doctors she would just pop out and they didn't believe me but she did. Just popped out. Hit her bleedin' head on the floor."
Me: "?!?!?"
NM: "See my finger! I cut it right open making a stew. Look at it!"
Me: "Cooking already? You are good!"
NM: "Yeah well with all me kids someone has to feed 'em! Me other 'alf ain't bovvered, he's down the pub usually, but look at me finger!"
Me: "Ooohhh!" (in head: "someone please help me!")
NM: "Do you wanna hold her a minute while I sort me shit out?"
Me: "Umm, of course!"
NM: "Righto. Ta very much. JUSTIN!! Get yer coat on, we're leavin'!!!"
Me: (Thank god!) "Umm, bye then!"

Dead letters

Talking of our resident ghost, this christmas we had a cheery card addressed to the couple who lived here from "Sue and Jim" who "hoped they were still going strong!". And left a return address. So I felt obliged to write and tell them they were dead. It was a very difficult letter to write. Never mind the fact that we have lived here for the past 4 years and this is the first year "Sue and Jim" thought to inquire into their friends' wellbeing, I didn't know how close they were and how they would take the news. So I politely informed them that their friends had passed away several years ago, and then made some half-hearted comments about them obviously being lovely people and I hoped they weren't too upset by my news. I have heard nothing back, I wish they would at least acknowledge my letter so I don't spent years torn up with guilt at being the evil person who told them their friends had carked it. Though I did use a second class stamp so it probably hasn't got there yet...

Ghost teacher?!

Baby Babs is coming along in leaps and bounds. He can talk for England now, despite only just turning two. We went to yet another birthday party today with lots of other two year olds, and it struck me just how far advanced he seemed all of a sudden. None of the other kids are talking, he can have full blown conversations now, and most of them had dummies and refused to leave their parents' side. Baby Babs was everywhere, he loved it, I hated chasing him round, but I do applaud his independent spirit. He doesn't give a monkeys if he can't see me and runs off blithely oblivious to the horrors that could await him.

But what is getting me is the words he comes out with. I know I teach him ridiculous words like "coconut". But I don't remember "tortoise" and teaching him the difference between "dark and light", "up and down" and "cold and hot". I think our ghost is back, obviously a primary school teacher back in the day, and Baby Babs is having lessons I know nothing about.

Yesterday I asked him what we should plant in our newly created veg patch, and he thought very carefully and said "daddy's beers". Now if he could just invent a Fosters plant we would be made for life. And I wouldn't put it past him...

Eggs in yer face

I opened the curtains this morning to find that some kindly soul had come round in the middle of the night and thrown eggs at my newly cleaned windows. Bastards. Not only does our window cleaner only come once in a blue moon, but it was sufficiently cold last night to make the egg freeze like super glue to my windows, I had to resort to a scouring pad to get it off, praying it didn't scratch the glass. It has unsettled me somewhat, I switch between thinking they were stupid kids and it was a random attack to "oh my god! we have somehow really upset someone so much that they sneak round in the dark to egg us!!". I won't sleep tonight.

And how expensive are eggs these days?! And who goes round late at night with eggs in their pockets?! Bloody essex teenagers that's who. Bastards.

On supermarkets

Recently I have noticed a trend in supermarkets. Those staff who do the shopping for the online orders are taking over the shops and leaving no room for normal customers. Last week I was trying to get to the butter only to find the entire aisle blockaded by staff restocking the cheese on one side and a woman with a massive trolley of online orders on the other. And I politely stood there till they moved!! Idiot. When did the normal in-store shoppers become mere irritations to the running of the shop? I thought they did most of the online orders when the shop itself was closed, but apparently not. And the days of restocking shelves at 3am seem to be long gone. It makes me so mad but it isn't limited to just one supermarket so I find it wherever I go. Next time I get blockaded I'm going to shove their massive trolleys out of the way or demand to see the manager. It's time for action people.

Cocktails

Speaking of cocktails, Justin Hawkins has a new album out with his band Hot Leg. I listened to a bit of it online and it's bleedin' brilliant!! Not quite the dizzy heights of the Darkness but not far off. The highlight was a song called Cocktail. The chorus goes "cock cock cock cock cocktail".

Absolute genius.

Mutant fruit

Baby Babs vocabulary is expanding massively and the other day we were going through one of his picture books for the nth time and I tried him on "coconut". He said it really well and I was so proud. Then I tried "pineapple". After frowning for a bit and really concentrating he came up with "applenutnut". That is the best word I have heard for years, and if only I could mix a pineapple and a coconut I would be famous! It would save so much time making cocktails :-)

The best pop video ever?!

I recently saw Coldplay's video for Life in technicolour ii and it is bloody brilliant! With no Top of the Pops (RIP) anymore most new videos pass me by, but you can watch videos on our cable for free and after I got tired of Bob the Builder doing "Big Fish Little Fish" (cardboard box!) I looked at a few cooler ones. If you haven't seen it, you are missing a brilliant puppet show extravaganza! And it's totally changed my opinion of Coldplay, I used to think "oh god it's Coldplay" whenever they turned up on the radio or tv, but now the video has messed my head up! I am quite sure Coldplay themselves didn't come up with the idea or execute any of it (apart from the song which is also not bad surprisingly) but hey. They put their name to it! Nobody puts any effort into videos anymore, so top marks from me!

I am not being paid by Coldplay for this btw! I can also highly recommend Morrissey's new one, ooh I love Mozza. Oh and that beardy bloke from Elbow...

The Christmas comedown

I've got the January blues already. It seems like I spent SO long preparing for Christmas, this year I made cards, decorations, mince pies, sorted all the presents, food etc etc and it's all over so quickly. I even managed to squeeze in making a blanket for Miss S's imminent arrival. Christmas Eve was possibly the excitedest I've ever been since childhood. Baby Babs is old enough now to get it (kind of) and one of our neighbours dressed up as Father Christmas and brought him a present, and we got the egg nog out and watched the Polar Express and Toy Story and it was honestly one of the days that I will remember for years. Christmas Day was nice, but a bit of a come down. Baby Babs liked ripping paper off presents more than what was actually in them, and we had a moment trying to put together a train track with Baby Babs ripping bits off as they were constructed until he had to be removed from the room. Kids toys eh? I now know what my parents went through and they had 3 kids to keep happy.

And now I sit here wondering why the Christmas tree is still up and should I take it down tomorrow or leave it till the weekend? And everything is a bit flat. I need a new project! Luckily Baby Babs handily has his 2nd birthday at the end of January so that will take January up! More card making, present buying, why it's almost like Christmas!

Out of the mouths of babes...

Whenever Mr Babs lets off a not so sneaky fart, Baby Babs very proudly announces "Daddy - poo poo!". He also now announces when he does them. "Baby - poo poo!". It's funny indoors, but imagine if we were out at a restaurant...

End of an era

This week two of my childhood institutions have gone down in flames. First the demise of Woollies, which was great for pick and mix and random things when you were young. Now Sir Terry (though I would think about rescinding the Sir, maam) has quit the Eurovision!! Terry! No!!! How could he? And leave us with Graham Norton?! Though to be fair, Graham did do the Eurovision Dance Contest and wasn't too bad, so he will definitely be better than John Barrowman who is presenting everything else that is slightly camp. But does this signal the end of the Eurovision too? And what do we do if it is?!

Random anonymous annoying people

Recently I had a comment on an old post from someone called "Robert". He doesn't have a blog by the looks of it, or he doesn't want to share. I think he must be american as he doesn't seem to understand irony and decided to be quite rude and patronising to me. (Sorry if I have offended the nice americans I know! This doesn't apply to you!) I have no idea why he decided to comment, but he has really pissed me off. I deleted his "opinions" as I don't need that kind of shit on my blog, but tell me why do people feel the need to do that?! I bet he isn't even called "Robert".

Sigh

Q: How does the moon cut his hair?
A: Eclipse it

Child genius or child exploitation?!

Baby Babs can now do brilliant impressions of a rabbit, a chicken and a lion. They really make me laugh and he learned them straightaway, it wasn't a case of "you WILL be a chicken!". But part of me thinks I shouldn't be encouraging it, is it child exploitation or have I got a young impressionist on my hands?! And what should I teach him next?!

Daytime tv

I've got to the point where I can't watch daytime tv anymore. Recently itv got fined for showing violent episodes of Taggart and other shows at 3 in the afternoon. Midsomer Murders as well, and man that's violent and has lots of rumpy pumpy too!

This week I caught an episode of Doctors, a daytime soap about a health centre. Haven't seen it for a while, but one of the doctors was paralysed in a car crash by a colleague last year sometime. Queue lots of angst ridden episodes, Rocky style exercise routines trying to get his legs back, him trying to date ladies and then when they knocked him back going "is it coz I'm disabled?" [No, it's coz you are bleedin' annoying]. This week he was clearly much better, he was walking, had a lovely girlfriend, they were talking about going scuba diving and everything! Then he was flattened by a lorry. Dead as a dodo. Poor sod. What was it all for?

I think it is a cunning plan to get me to do something other than veg on the sofa! Damn those tv schedulers.

Yours Mary Whitehouse jr :-)

Gladiator

Since we married, Mr Babs has let his personal appearance go a bit. He doesn't shave as much as he used to, really only when we have somewhere to go, which isn't often. I don't mind a bit of stubble, but it's gone a bit beyond that now and he looks like a man whose wife has left him or who has lost all his money on the horses. I had a plan to make him shave at the weekend, but then a bloody woman at his work came up to him and said "I like your beard, you look like a gladiator!" Thanks love. A gladiator! If he did indeed look like Russell Crowe then I wouldn't mind at all. He refuses to shave now and his head is twice the size. Cow. And why was she commenting on my husband's appearance? Do I need to go and sort her out?

Sigh

I am currently doing a proofreading correspondence course, I am extremely nitpicky and hate finding mistakes in books so I am probably perfect for it. Anyway, I've got to do an assessment and post it back to them, and have to get at least a B to pass the whole course. I have spent the last week agonising about a part of it, the text is all jumbled up and in real life you would query it so they can check it against the manuscript. But I decided this was too easy and they really wanted you to correct it to demonstrate your understanding of the symbols you need to use. But did they?! After days of going backwards and forwards, in desperation I just rang them to ask and the girl said "oh yeah, you just query it" and that was that! No "oh it's an assessment, an important part of the course, I can't help you I'm afraid", just "oh we'll tell you the answer, don't worry!". On the one hand I am grateful that my instincts were right in the first place, but on the other, does everybody pass this course as they just tell you what to do?!

Pirate jokes

I thought I would share my current collection of pirate jokes after the whinging in the last post. Nothing is ever so bad that a pirate joke can't cheer you up :-)

Q: What music do pirates listen to?
A: Arrrr and B

Q: What did it cost the pirate for a new peg leg and hook?
A: An arm and a leg

Q: What do you get if you cross a pirate and a vampire?
A: Draculaarrrrrr

[Hee hee, I particularly like the last one, and for Miss S and Lady L, my favourite ever joke: Q: What do you get if you cross a badger and a seagull? A: A bagel!!]

Desperate housewives

I am full of rage at my other half today. Why? Well, let me see. These are my jobs:

Cleaning
Cooking (and deciding what to cook)
Shopping (including beer buying)
Gardening
Car maintenance and cleaning
Paying bills
Arranging medical, dental and optician appointments as necessary
Collecting prescriptions and medication as and when required by husband
Washing
Ironing
Buying clothes for husband and son
Arranging birthday cards/presents/xmas cards/presents for entire family
Bringing up baby

These are his jobs:

Go to work
Wash up after tea

Now do you understand? I have over at least the last 6 months asked him to fix the kitchen tap and the shower screen, both things I can't do myself. Are they fixed? He is also supposed to mow the lawn. He does it grudgingly about twice a year.

Oh dear, this list hasn't helped at all. I'm more mad now. Damn. And if I brought this up? "I go to work to pay for it all." But I know if I do go back to work I'll be doing it on top of everything else! I am oh so full of rage. But I must also be an idiot to do it all. Crap.

Depressed road safety campaigners?

In Lincolnshire it appears that the road safety people are either very depressed or have a very black sense of humour. On all the roads there were anti-speeding signs, not your usual "drive safely" or "keep your speed down". Oh no. The two most prevalent ones were very dark.

"ARRIVE ALIVE!!!" screamed the first poster as we sped past it. "How could you arrive otherwise?" was my first thought.

"TO DIE FOR???!!!" asked the second with a picture of a motorbike next to the cheery slogan.

My, they must really need to be shocked out of bad driving in Lincolnshire.

Fishermen

We were staying in a fishing cottage so my father-in-law could spend the week failing to catch anything of note. One day a fisherman round the corner from us caught quite a big fish. Someone else had stopped to look, so I took Baby Babs to have his first look at a fish. The man didn't say anything but quite clearly didn't want us to look so we left. He was a rude man. Then it turned out he was an editor of some regional fishing magazine and thought he was the bees knees. He obviously thought I knew who he was and was trying to get an autograph or a photo or something ridiculous. "This is me with Syd, the local editor of Fishing World, do you know him?". Honestly. He swanned round the place like he owned it, shouting out to anyone in range how many fish he had caught recently. He ate for free in the cafe and had loads of free gear, obviously through his job, but he didn't half show it off. Horrible man. Most of the fishermen were a bit odd really, they really think they are it, but frankly they are all a bit sad and I am glad I am only a football widow, they don't usually have much to brag about, well not in my house anyway :-)

Strange places I have been

On a recent week away we found the Strangest Pub in Britain. In a desperate bid to find a pub that was showing the two Tottenham matches on that week (Mr Babs and holidays do not mean he will not insist on watching them playing badly) we ended up in one called the Red Lion. Every other pub was showing better matches. The first night, there was us and probably 8 other people, including the bar staff. This made the notice on the door stating that the pub had a maximum capacity and people would be turned away when reached most intriguing. Is that maximum number 15? 20? I cannot imagine it getting so full they had a one in one out policy.

The other night we were in there it was slightly busier, but there was still room for about fifty more people. It must have been sports night. There were two intensely competitive dominoes games going on in opposite corners, a closely fought darts match in another, two different football games on opposing screens, and a queue for the slot machines. It made my head hurt. We were given the evil eye all night by an odd guy called Nige, I can only think we were stood in his spot or he really hated Tottenham fans. I thought he was going to follow us home and kill us, especially as we staying in a cottage up a dark lane in the middle of nowhere. He didn't though.

The town itself was also very odd. It was all pubs, food shops, and indian takeaways. That was about it. Nowhere to buy clothes, apart from one charity shop, nowhere to buy holiday gifts. Oh and the biggest vets I have ever seen. And in the only pub we ate in, it turned out the manager used to live round the corner from my in-laws in London. How bizarre. And the amount of people on those oldie scooter haring round the lanes was nothing short of dangerous. They all think they are on motorbikes and reliving their youth. Wait till someone gets runover, that's all I'm saying Evil Knievel grandad.

Things Baby Babs finds amusing

1) Pretending to make his teddy bears smell his feet and then drop down dead.
2) Crashing things into each other.
3) Falling over.
4) Other people falling over.
5) Dancing.
6) Taking pens out of pots and putting them back in again.
7) Taking calls on his pretend mobile.
8) The theme tune to Hollyoaks.

I've either got a child genius or a slightly twisted future madman on my hands.

Why I hate London

Last week me and Baby Babs were on a bus. Unfortunately it was one of the new fangled bendy buses so we were miles away from the driver. When the bus stopped at our stop, instead of letting us off first, an awful awful woman barged her way onto the bus and shoved the buggy, leaving Baby Babs face down on the pavement and me on my ass on the bus. If I hadn't been so worried about the doors closing and me being carried off and Baby Babs being left on the pavement I would have either a) called the police or b) smashed her or c) both. She was a terrible woman and all she said was "sorry but you should have moved". If I hadn't been in shock I would have dragged her off the bus and taught her that you are supposed to let people off before forcing your way on. I am still SO mad about it and I hope that the people on the bus smashed her instead. And I hope she learnt her lesson but I doubt it very much.

And another thing...

...Mr Babs has to have an eye check up every year for his diabetes. I rang up to make an appointment for his annual check to our usual place to be told the next appointment was "18th December". December? When I queried this I was given a snotty "well there is a big demand for them" from some schoolgirl trainee. So I rang the much smaller local independent opticians and got an appointment for 23rd September. Ah ha. A 4 month wait for these eye tests can have really bad consequences, they can pick up all sorts of problems with them. How is this shop, a massive chain, so shit?! Last year it was fine. Of course I have complained :-)

Is it me?!

Recently I have had cause to contact a bank and an online shop to ask questions. Not complaints for once! But in both cases it appeared that my query had not been listened to AT ALL and they just had a standard response based on one word in my query. The shop one was yesterday, I received a watch as a gift but it needs altering. So as it came from an online shop and was a gift I wasn't sure how to go about sending it for alteration and I thought "ooh I'll just email them and ask". So I get a response telling me how to return it. I replied saying "if you actually read my message, I don't want to return it I just want it altered!". It drives me mad. The bank one was hilarious, our local branch was closed with some electrical problem and I needed to see if it was open so I thought "ooh I'll just phone them and see". But I couldn't find the local branch number and the woman on the generic number apparently didn't hear a word I said and told me I could pay my money in whenever the branch was open. I did complain about her and when I got a response from the manager saying "I believe you had a query about the opening hours of your local branch..." I gave up! Is it me or are all customer service people really rubbish these days?! Or are they tied to strict responses that are on a piece of paper and told to find the one that fits best and they aren't allowed to ad lib?!

Are the fish inside or outside?

Today we are meeting up with Miss S to go to the London Aquarium for our birthdays. It is a little more sedate than previous years, but with Baby Babs in tow and Miss S carrying one herself (currently called Clive until we know one way or the other), serious drinking and dancing and high heels are out for the moment. But they will return. Oh yes. It has been relatively nice weather up until today, but as I sit here now it is teeming down and it seems a little weird to venture out into torrential rain and then pay to go indoors and look at more water. But who doesn't love looking at fish and the promise of cake afterwards?!

What a relief...

The new series of In the Night Garden started yesterday and it hasn't changed. Goodo, Baby Babs likes continuity. My main concern was that Derek Jacobi would be sick of narrating with all the funny narrative and oohs and aahs, and would be replaced by someone like Sean Bean, but he's still there. He either has grandkids who love it or he's being paid shedloads. He sounds like he's narrating Shakespeare so it makes me feel better about littl'un watching it constantly!

But I suspect Iggle Piggle has a bigger blanket than before...

Neighbours

Our bleedin' neighbours are doing my nut in. They have put their house up for sale and although at first I was worried about who would replace them, now I'm wishing for a nice old couple who want to grow veg and sit in their garden with a pet dog. There is no interest at all in their house and I so wish there was. They were away recently and it was only when they came back that I realised how much NOISE they make! They have 2 kids which is fair enough, but if my kid spent hours in the garden just shrieking randomly I would tell him to bloody shut up, never mind if it was bothering other people! Then the bloke has a voice that could peel paint off the walls and it carries for miles and miles. We can't sit in our garden really as they are always there talking LOUDLY and there is no peace. I feel like they conned me by promising to move and then not doing! (Though when they have eventually moved and we've got worse people in don't remind me!)

I do wonder if it is me. They are by no means the worst neighbours we've ever had, that would probably be the awful couple who lived above me once in Croydon, but that's a whole other story. I just wish we could have a nice detached house in the middle of a park and be able to live in peace, and even possibly sit outside and read a book once in a while. I might just start playing music on a big boom box instead, it probably wouldn't be as noisy!

When you are tired of tv...

...are you tired of life?! Being at home and not having to enter the rat race means that over the months since Baby Babs arrived I have watched an inordinate amount of rubbish television. But now something strange has happened. Instead of leaving daytime tv on in the background, only now and then tutting at the utter banality of it all, now I can't bear to leave it on. Which in a way is a Good Thing. But now what do I do?! Even in the evenings tv is SOOO depressing, Mr Babs and I have finally broken our Hollyoaks addiction, we can't have watched it for at least a month now which is bloody brilliant and my mind feels more wholesome already. I think it was the sheer depression of everything that was happening in it, if watching a program makes you feel like crap, why watch it?! Everyone is miserable, dying, faking death, cheating somebody or something blah blah blah. I inadvertently caught an episode of Eastenders on Friday night. Some character's fiance was murdered on the night before the wedding, and his son (not hers) said that he hated her and that he would rather go into care than stay with her. She recently survived her house being blown up and a stalker and now this! Welcome to the weekend!

The only thing we watch is mind enlarging quiz shows or topical news comedy shows in the hope of at least learning something. We might have to take up ballroom dancing or something ridiculous. I can see my life ebbing away and all I'll have to show for it is an impressive knowledge of CJ's many hair styles on Eggheads.

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.