2013

Hello! And welcome heartily and merrily to 2013. (We are 13 years in to this millennium and I still don't know if I prefer saying it in thousands, 2013 or tens 20-13). So, I haven't bothered to check where I last left you but I know it was pre Christmas so I shall quickly catch you up. There was an AWFUL lot of Cava at parties, lunches and even at my very own Annual Curry and Cava night and more calories consumed than Victoria Beckham sees in two years. It was very busy. Hence my prolonged silence. If I wasn't worse for wear or stuffed, I was wrapping. Three nights pre-Christmas of solid wrapping - I didn't get to bed much before midnight. It was exhausting. Although totally worth it. There is nothing that matches that feeling of seeing it all finished and ready under the tree - it is my job satisfaction. Cybil has also been keeping me away from the computer with her sudden dislike to evening sleeping. It lasted for a good few weeks and was terrifically tiresome, although fingers considerably crossed, she seems to have packed it in and realised I am best in daylight hours only.  I have also been at the technological black hole that is my mum's so even though my week post Christmas was relatively relaxing I still haven't been able to inform you of any of my exciting comings and goings.

Although it already seems aeons ago I shall take you back to before Christmas. I was slightly concerned this year as Bea was trying desperately not to find out the truth about the big FC, even in the face of many careless indiscretions by me and a number of children in her class and year group telling her the truth in a very blunt fashion. Still, we managed to get this last year under our belt with them all believing and I was very grateful. I nearly blew the whole thing wide open after Bea's total prat of a teacher decided to fill in time before the end of term by getting all the children to email three things they wanted to Father Christmas six days before the big day itself. This sounds fairly innocent enough but miserably the lazy sod of a teacher didn't check out the site the children were emailing and unfortunately Bea took this opportunity to try her luck and ask for an iPad on the off chance that the big FC was real and magic can actually happen. The reply she got 'from Father Christmas' told her that he was so happy she had asked for an iPad this year as the elves love making ipads and they say they are so much easier to make than ipods because you just stick a few ipods together. (Bea repeated this back to me a lot as she tried to convince herself it 'could happen' as I promised her that it would absolutely and definitely, definitely not happen as 8 year olds are not allowed to have iPads. That's the law) The paragraph that followed was quite remarkable, it went something like this, "Oh! An Elf has just told me that he is even more excited that you have asked for an iPad as we have an app you can download on to your new ipad. We will email you after Christmas to remind you to download it." Now. If I was 8, and I still believed in Father Christmas and I believed that this letter had come from him and his minions (she did) then I would be monumentally excited about the prospect of Christmas and my new iPad which this correspondence had all but told her she would receive. I didn't do anything straight away but that afternoon I did make a beeline for the lazy-arsed teacher who immediately took the defencive and thought I was upset about the fact she had even asked for an iPad, assuring me that lots of the children had asked for one. I showed him the offending paragraphs and asked if he had seen them. He said he had not and was slightly surprised. He said 'I'll 'ave a word' (He is northern).  I suggested he never use the free emailing service again and not to bother as I would be having a few words with Bea myself. In the end, I opted to tell her that the email was not real, not the whole north pole shebang. She understood and all ended well.  Although I was a tad cross that my joy and excitement at how much Bea was going to love her presents had been overshadowed by the knowledge that none of them would compare to a flipping iPad. K and I even did a mad Internet search for cheaper tablet alternatives but mercifully came to our senses pretty quickly. That was the only drama pre-Christmas and it was fairly short lived. The rest of the festivities went off without a hitch - G even sang at his non-nativity 'show' where excitingly, he got to hold up the card for the Eight Maids a Milking during the Twelve Days of Christmas.

Christmas Eve with newly married sister, bro-in-law and mother was a total success. I find it a really tricky day usually as you feel the pressure to make it special, but the children are always so hideously over excited that their behaviour is appalling, but doing something new and totally out of our usual Eve routine meant that they were wrong footed and behaved incredibly well; Bea didn't even realise Christmas Day was the following day until 5.30pm and she made a hurried note to welcome the still believed in big FC and we put out some gingerbread biscuits and carrots.  Annoyingly, on the big day itself I awoke hours before the children at 4.30am and lay there worrying about what would happen if they woke up at that time as well. A most futile activity. The day was lovely - although hard work. Lots of building of toys, food preparation, clearing up and an ill advised new 'tradition' of getting the chocolate fountain out for pudding. I cannot get the melted chocolate right and the bloody thing is a total pain and took hours of fiddling-about-preparation for only about five minutes of fun. Their fun. Not mine. Then they ran off and left me with the mess to clear up. K and I didn't really exchange proper gifts due to budget restrictions but I did get tea towels, an oven glove and an electric hand whisk. A slight change from the luxury of last year but actually I am quite excited about the hand whisk as it will make cake baking and meringue making an awful lot easier. Boxing day was on to his mum's in Essex and more present opening. I arrived a tad late due to a ridiculously annoying lost phone incident. K went ahead with the big three and I stayed back to put the dishwasher on and finish feeding Cybs. After he left I did just that and then realised I didn't have my phone. I didn't panic initially. Then panic seeped in. Then it spread. It was nowhere, I had no way to communicate (we have no home phone - a connection for the internet obviously but no phone plugged in to it) and I was about to leave the house for a week. After forty five minutes of frantic and angry searching I eventually ran across the road and found some new neighbours were in and demanded a mobile phone (Obviously I was actually incredibly polite and grateful but I was cutting to the chase).  More searching with me ringing my phone from the neighbour's phone. Still nothing. I rang K. He was unimpressed and unsympathetic. Eventually I made the (incredibly) brave decision to leave the lost phone and drive to Essex regardless. I got there just in time for lunch and very quickly my saviour of a brother-in-law informed me of the 'find my phone' app, bought it on my behalf on his phone and within seconds told me that my phone was exactly where we were standing, safe and sound somewhere in one of our cars. Modern technology is truly remarkable.

So, on to a New Year and a new me. Actually I just want the old me back. She was great. She had loads of energy, great clothes and could be arsed to put make up on every day. Now C has turned 5 months I feel I ought to get my shit together. I can't remember if I have spoken of this before but I have taken on the appearance of a used candle. It is a term I created after we watched a bit of the US version of The Biggest Loser.  Quite often the contestants had a 'normal' sized head and face when they were doing their introductory interview with the camera in close up, but then it would pan out to reveal a body of colossal size which made it look like they were made of wax and someone had put a lot of heat above their head so that the wax had melted and dripped down to settle around their middle. I too have that look. My middle is disproportionately large and ungainly. My naked self is alarming and terrifying. I have to do something. So, it's back to Wibblies I go. For those who weren't here at the beginning, Wibblies is short for Weight Watchers. It came from Cupcake Sister who named it that because the people who attend 'wibble and wobble'. Cupcake Sister is doing it with me - although 'remotely' as we live too far apart. She is also wibbly at the moment. There is a lot of it about. I weighed in on Monday and it was a total shocker. It is now a nice round four stone I have to shift and double the amount I have put on with each of the other pregnancies. I will keep you updated with my weight loss progress you lucky, lucky things.

New Year's Eve itself was spent with mother. We had a nice meal and a nice bottle of wine and then went to bed. It was wild. As per usual. The only vague bit of excitement was that earlier in the day a friend of my mother's visited and when she walked in she proclaimed that she was scared of babies. It was most odd - I have never met anyone with an actual fear of babies.  I felt a little sorry for her as she must have been quaking in her boots as I sat there breastfeeding Cybs, and added to that scary sight, a neighbour who had popped over also had her small daughter with her.  I can understand being unkeen on babies - I clearly can't empathise but I can definitely see why people choose not to have them - but to be scared of them is strange. It has occupied my thoughts on and off ever since.  I wonder if it is like me and spiders - although I know they can't actually hurt me and are more afraid of me than I am of them, it is the unexpectedness of them turning up that freaks me out. That and because they are just actually scary and they move very fast. Although a key difference is that babies are unlikely to scamper over you after hiding in your towel. Anyway, I met my first person who was scared of a baby. She liked dogs. She called her puppy her baby. And yet I liked her all the same. It wasn't the most thrilling of New Years. However in other baby news - very excitingly - the first of the Godmothers has split in two and produced a child! Sporty Godmother (to G) - has produced a son, heir and little brother to her daughter, called Harry. I have been to see him and he is quite the most adorable thing. I DO like a newborn baby. This one in particular. He was not in the slightest bit scary and he didn't cry once in the entire two hours we were there. I might see if she would hire him out to help the poor woman who is afraid of them. It would be good for her. 

In other shocking news I have managed to kick my Real Housewives addiction. They made too many changes to the line up and I lost interest. All my favourites had left so I didn't have the determination to get through the arduous ten hours (minus adverts) a week. I do feel a sense of loss but I am glad to get the time back. It was rather taking over.

So there we have it - it wasn't really worth the wait was it? Not exactly a thrilling start to 2013.  I bet you thought with such a long wait all these dramatically exciting things would have happened to me. I apologise that you got a lost phone, a scared woman and a diet. It is not really adequate. Also apologies once again for the delay, I will be back much sooner next time. I need something to do with my hands to keep me away from the food so there may be many more thrilling stories coming your way - paint drying, traffic jams and how many times I wake up a night are all possibles for next time. Bet you can wait now.

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