Sorry. The lazy gene has kicked in. I really couldn't be arsed with anything much last week so I made the brave decision to save you from my moaning and keep out of your way. I even stayed out of the house all day on Friday so that I didn't have to accept my Weight Watchers delivery. I was terrified of a man knocking at the door with 30 plus boxes that I couldn't possibly have managed to sort out and put away with my lacklustre spirit. I am sure they must be coming this Friday but I am mentally more prepared and might well let him in if I'm here.
The week was just incredibly tiring. K got his car - nice and luxurious but not a sports car or anything terribly exciting (that wasn't hard work obviously but I wanted to fill you in). I put on weight as predicted - two pounds if you count the last official weigh in and three and half pounds if you go by the unofficial weigh in I carried out myself (naturally I am going by the official one.) Even though I was expecting it, having weight gain confirmed is never a good feeling and I was resentful. The rest of Wednesday was uneventful until nearly five o'clock when one half of the elderly couple over the road knocked on the door to get the children - a not uncommon event - but it transpired today was unusual as I had forgotten their 60th Wedding Anniversary party. I didn't realise I had forgotten until I got over there in my wellies having left the front door open and the supper on the hob. The children were dutifully brilliant and ate their fruit cake quickly and G even had a conversation with one of the guests, but I was on edge knowing that not only was the spaghetti bolognese half cooked on the hob, the front door was open and Bea needed to be fed, dressed and ready for pick up and biking to Beavers by 5.45. Obviously I managed it all and I even got Bea to do a card after she finished eating and before pick up so she could deliver it the following day but it was stressful nonetheless.
Thursday evening saw much excitement with the oldies being picked up in a mini bus for their surprise meal out. All three children stood on the window sill watching the spectacle - Dennis in black tie and Gwennis (B called them Gwennis collectively when she was little which was terribly efficient of her but it has now stuck and we can no longer call Gwen anything but Gwennis) in all her finery and sparkly jewellery. Bea kept yelling 'what the dickens is going on here' out of the window - turns out the 'Dickens' was them being whisked off to a fancy celebratory meal at the Oxo tower.
Friday was spent out of the house avoiding delivery until after the school run. I picked up Bea to find her very sad and feeling sorry for herself as somehow we had managed to get the wrong spellings to practise over the half term which meant she had only got three out of ten in the spelling test and had spent the morning in tears because of it. (I felt hideously guilty and very upset myself - you know how seriously I take her spellings). Mercifully by the time we got home via the sweet shop she had switched from down in the dumps to hyper excited about the dress rehearsal for her ballet show at Catford Theatre that evening. As she was sitting eating her bland pasta and veg supper (quickest and easiest thing at short notice - I didn't realise the rehearsal started as early as it did) the extra boy's father arrived for pick up which annoyed Ted who got cross and started pushing him (him being 6 but no match for an angry Ted natch). I told Ted to leave the poor boy alone and pick on someone his own size and dispatched him to the playroom. As I shut the door behind the extra boy and his father an ear splitting scream emanated from the playroom. Once G was able to talk through the severe sobbing it turns out that Ted, currently trying to hide behind his hands, had walked in and found a peaceful G lying on the sofa and lifted a heavy battery filled plastic Buzz Lightyear and bought it down on my beautiful boy's head. Hard. As I cradled G in my arms I realised there was blood. All over his face and all over me. It took quite a while for the blood to stop flowing out of the relatively small gash but eventually it did and Bea even managed to finish her supper and step in to care for G so I could get the boy's supper on and Bea's things ready for yet another pick up. I was less ready to move on. I was so incredibly horrid to Ted for a very long time after the incident. He was sent to the naughty step immediately afterwards obviously. He sat there with his hands over his face for a long time and then tried to seek comfort from his sister. She ignored his pleas and sent him back again. Eventually after Bea left and the boys had eaten I did allow Ted to join us on the sofa where he attempted to apologise. He spent quite a while trying to cuddle me but finally caved in and cuddled G by way of an apology and even went so far as to kiss him. G was happy to reciprocate and for a few moments all was well. However such was Ted's excitement and relief at being forgiven he ran up and down the sofa in happiness and promptly fell over and smashed his head on the radiator. Both boys went to bed with healthy bumps on their heads. By the time K arrived home I was very happy to leave and spend some time alone driving to Victoria to pick up a second hand Henry hoover. Such is the glamour. (The broken hoover K fixed had never really done a great job and was even worse after its surgery so we have given up and gone Henry).
Saturday and Sunday saw us back and forth to Catford for the actual ballet performances. Bea was beyond happy with the whole process, backstage and onstage. I thought she was a very believable cat even if I do say so myself. Although in the show I saw on Saturday night she spent her entire onstage time looking for me through the harsh glare of the theatre lights. She carried out all of her dance moves perfectly and with a beautiful smile, but after each section of the dance she stopped to peer into the darkness beyond to find the familiar shape of her mother. She was obviously unable to see me but once came so precariously close to the edge of the stage I was sick with nerves that her first experience of theatre performance might actually be forever marred by her agonising injuries from a severe fall. Anyway, it was incredibly sweet and she was adorable naturally. Mercifully on Sunday when K was in the audience she just concentrated on the task in hand and was yet again a magnificently balletic cat.
I think that has just about caught you up. Although by filling you in I have tired myself out. Actually it's not all your fault, I stayed up stupidly late last night to watch Definitely Maybe. (Til nearly midnight - I was shocked). I am now totally and utterly in love with Ryan Reynolds. I was half in love with him after the brilliance of The Proposal but this has totally sealed the deal. I might even buy the soundtrack - you just can't beat a good rom com soundtrack. Must dash I have a date with Ryan in my dreams. Literally.
Seeya xx
Monday, 13 June 2011
Tuesday, 7 June 2011
Lyrical Disharmony
Howdy partners. I am back in sunny SE23 and the children are back at school after the break. My day of reckoning is tomorrow when I shall find out exactly how much weight I have gained over the holidays. I am enjoying one last bottle of wine before I have to get back down to business on that front. From tomorrow on I shall be a dieting superstar as I push on through to goal. My aim is to achieve that before the summer holidays so I can properly indulge over the summer. You are allowed to be up to five pounds plus or minus your goal weight and I intend to take full advantage on the plus side. Thankfully I am not planning to take over any meetings in the near future so no one will be judging me any time soon. With any luck I won't start proper work until September when G starts in Reception which means I am only stuck with one child to offload.
The good news is that K's job is going very well - he seems quite happy and is getting on well with The Employers (much to our surprise). There is much excitement in the household as we await the arrival of his new company car which was purchased today. More on that later, but fingers crossed for a good one. He has even been paid for his efforts so far which was jolly thrilling as it meant the Tesco man arrived fully armed today and the fridge is full once again. It also means that Bea's recorder lessons will be paid in time for her first lesson of the term on Thursday. Who could ask for more? Life is peachy.
Although my bank account is not. My card was declined for the princely sum of 99p today. Mercifully it was in the comfort of my own home as I tried to make a purchase on itunes. Not that I am unaccustomed to it being a public humiliation. I think people are always surprised at how well I take the news of my card being declined but it is far more of a surprise if the transaction is approved. The main issue with this unauthorised transaction was that it was for Justin Bieber's 'Baby' song. Thanks to an older cousin, Bea is now obsessed with bloody Bieber and I have had to listen to her singing 'Baby, baby, baby oh, I thought you'd always be mine' for far too long now so I decided to treat them all to the official version (the boy I look after in the afternoons was also quite excited so I thought it would be a crowd pleaser). Suffice to say it was quite tricky to explain to the four happy faces in front of me that my purchase had not been successful. Although I was actually slightly relieved. Even I can't stand The Bieber. It is a shame Bea has inherited my terrible taste in music (along with my penchant for terribly cliched films) as G seems to have bypassed it entirely. We were driving back from Kent on Sunday and I was desperately searching for a nice easy listening station to help pass the time when G piped up and asked me to get back to the cool guy singing about making someone sweat. (He didn't use those words exactly but I wanted to cut to the chase). So I had to sit through a deeply inappropriate and, in my personal opinion, a particularly lazily penned song about wanting to make some poor woman sweat. It was excruciatingly bad but he really likes all that modern inappropriate stuff. He is a huge fan of the 'lazy song' as well. I fear we shall clash massively when he has money of his own and a music system capable of high volume.
Give me Magic FM or BBC Radio 2 anyday. In University I had quite a reputation for my hideous taste in music. I tended to buy CD soundtracks almost exclusively, not to cool 'of the moment' films (although I did get the Lock Stock one - is that cool?) it was more the Dawson's Creek, City of Angels, Friends, Sleepless in Seattle, Hercules genre. (Annoyingly they always seemed to include a lot of incidental music and I used to point out the music that was on the soundtrack when it was heard on the film so that it became a running joke with my housemates that any 'plinky plonky' background music on a film would be on a soundtrack somewhere in my collection.) I do feel terribly old but I can't stand all this lewd music - especially the one about liking to do 'it' outside. I just don't want my children listening to it. Mind you a lot of it will probably go over their head. When I was a teenager I didn't twig for a very long time that the Shaman's Ebeneezer Goode song was about Ecstasy. Even with the line 'Eezer good, Eezer good'. I am ridiculously innocent. It would never occur to me to think someone was singing about drugs. I hope the Hanson 'Mmmm bop' song wasn't about anything sinister. That would really shake my belief in popular music. I know that I shall have to move with the times and that there is a time and a place for Christina Aguilera and her Dirty song (my hen night was ideal - as was her Beautiful song which I murdered over and over again) but I can't bring myself to let the children's innocence be corrupted so early on in my mothering career. I shall have to try harder to get them interested in the Carpenters and my own personal collection of the Grey's Anatomy soundtrack.
I am so tired I cannot write more. I had a lot of children through the door yesterday (four on top my own) and even though it is only 9pm the wine has now gone to my head. I shall retire gracefully and leave you to the theme song for today from the masters of easy listening, "I'm on the, top of the world looking, (boing) down on creation and the only explanation I can find is the love that I've found ever since you've been around has almost put me on the top of the world". Now isn't that nicer than hearing the word 'sweat' over and over again?
I'd like to teach the world to sing, in perfect harmony... (insert incidental plinky plonky music and fade......) x
The good news is that K's job is going very well - he seems quite happy and is getting on well with The Employers (much to our surprise). There is much excitement in the household as we await the arrival of his new company car which was purchased today. More on that later, but fingers crossed for a good one. He has even been paid for his efforts so far which was jolly thrilling as it meant the Tesco man arrived fully armed today and the fridge is full once again. It also means that Bea's recorder lessons will be paid in time for her first lesson of the term on Thursday. Who could ask for more? Life is peachy.
Although my bank account is not. My card was declined for the princely sum of 99p today. Mercifully it was in the comfort of my own home as I tried to make a purchase on itunes. Not that I am unaccustomed to it being a public humiliation. I think people are always surprised at how well I take the news of my card being declined but it is far more of a surprise if the transaction is approved. The main issue with this unauthorised transaction was that it was for Justin Bieber's 'Baby' song. Thanks to an older cousin, Bea is now obsessed with bloody Bieber and I have had to listen to her singing 'Baby, baby, baby oh, I thought you'd always be mine' for far too long now so I decided to treat them all to the official version (the boy I look after in the afternoons was also quite excited so I thought it would be a crowd pleaser). Suffice to say it was quite tricky to explain to the four happy faces in front of me that my purchase had not been successful. Although I was actually slightly relieved. Even I can't stand The Bieber. It is a shame Bea has inherited my terrible taste in music (along with my penchant for terribly cliched films) as G seems to have bypassed it entirely. We were driving back from Kent on Sunday and I was desperately searching for a nice easy listening station to help pass the time when G piped up and asked me to get back to the cool guy singing about making someone sweat. (He didn't use those words exactly but I wanted to cut to the chase). So I had to sit through a deeply inappropriate and, in my personal opinion, a particularly lazily penned song about wanting to make some poor woman sweat. It was excruciatingly bad but he really likes all that modern inappropriate stuff. He is a huge fan of the 'lazy song' as well. I fear we shall clash massively when he has money of his own and a music system capable of high volume.
Give me Magic FM or BBC Radio 2 anyday. In University I had quite a reputation for my hideous taste in music. I tended to buy CD soundtracks almost exclusively, not to cool 'of the moment' films (although I did get the Lock Stock one - is that cool?) it was more the Dawson's Creek, City of Angels, Friends, Sleepless in Seattle, Hercules genre. (Annoyingly they always seemed to include a lot of incidental music and I used to point out the music that was on the soundtrack when it was heard on the film so that it became a running joke with my housemates that any 'plinky plonky' background music on a film would be on a soundtrack somewhere in my collection.) I do feel terribly old but I can't stand all this lewd music - especially the one about liking to do 'it' outside. I just don't want my children listening to it. Mind you a lot of it will probably go over their head. When I was a teenager I didn't twig for a very long time that the Shaman's Ebeneezer Goode song was about Ecstasy. Even with the line 'Eezer good, Eezer good'. I am ridiculously innocent. It would never occur to me to think someone was singing about drugs. I hope the Hanson 'Mmmm bop' song wasn't about anything sinister. That would really shake my belief in popular music. I know that I shall have to move with the times and that there is a time and a place for Christina Aguilera and her Dirty song (my hen night was ideal - as was her Beautiful song which I murdered over and over again) but I can't bring myself to let the children's innocence be corrupted so early on in my mothering career. I shall have to try harder to get them interested in the Carpenters and my own personal collection of the Grey's Anatomy soundtrack.
I am so tired I cannot write more. I had a lot of children through the door yesterday (four on top my own) and even though it is only 9pm the wine has now gone to my head. I shall retire gracefully and leave you to the theme song for today from the masters of easy listening, "I'm on the, top of the world looking, (boing) down on creation and the only explanation I can find is the love that I've found ever since you've been around has almost put me on the top of the world". Now isn't that nicer than hearing the word 'sweat' over and over again?
I'd like to teach the world to sing, in perfect harmony... (insert incidental plinky plonky music and fade......) x
Friday, 3 June 2011
Half term
Forgive me readers it has been over a week since my last confession. I have had time off for good behaviour and half term. Also there has been very little to report. We are at mum's for the holidays and our days consist of playing in the garden, getting children in and out of clothes and swimming costumes and managing Ted. I have spent the last week over eating magnificently to celebrate being the lowest weight I've been in a decade and officially qualifying as a WW leader. There are times I worry that I have become totally obsessed with what I eat and losing weight and there is always a slight concern in the back of my mind that I will verge on the anorexic and never be able to enjoy gluttonous episodes ever again; then I arrive in Suffolk and within twenty four hours (less sometimes) all my fears are allayed. (I managed half a family sized Pavlova. PHEW)
On to the week where nothing happened. There was a small excitement with the arrival of the village newsletter (my absolute favourite publication ever). It opened with the Editor talking about the excitement of the royal wedding being over and his need for a good plumber and window cleaner. Then came the monthly report from the WI. This part is actually my favourite. I am paraphrasing now as mother recycled it before I could whisk it away to copy verbatim - but it went something like this - 'The meeting then took a very interesting turn when Jane Smith (not actual name obviously) showed us an ingenious way to fold plastic bags so that they fit neatly into your handbag - very useful! Then Mary Windsor (same) showed us the beautiful Fascinators she had created after last month's talk on Fascinators.' (I am totally convinced that I would love these WI meetings. I am going to try and get invited to one.) There was more about walking groups and the featured decade 'The 1970s' but I can't remember it. Then came news from the local pub who now offer a takeaway service including tea's and coffee's. There is nothing I like more than an unnecessary apostrophe or two. Then onwards with a few paragraphs from a local policeman warning residents of a recent spate of garden thefts - notably bird tables and ornaments (watch out Alan Titchmarsh is clearly on the rampage) and then the Editor reprised with an indepth article on a local plumber who he was, confusingly, heartily recommending. I am planning on emailing him and pointing out that it wasn't a convincing endorsement that he wouldn't use the said plumber himself. (I appreciate that my need to feel superior by deriding this man's effort to keep up community spirit and keep people informed is ugly, but I don't care. It makes me laugh until I cry so in one way the editor is a comic genius and I am in awe of him.)
Other than that I have been laying pretty low. It appears that I am annoying. I know this because the youngest betrothed sister has kindly given me the heads up on this one. It was quite a harsh reality check as the news came in amidst a story of someone she found terribly annoying and has had an ongoing problem with for quite a few months, with the harsh punchline - 'no offence, but she reminds me of you'. Ouch. I love the caveat 'no offence'. It gives you the freedom to say anything to anyone as long as you begin the offensive statement with 'no offence'. No offence, but you are ridiculously fat. No offence, but you are incredibly bossy and self centred. No offence, but you are incredibly rude. You get the idea. I'm sure something similar has happened to you in the past. No offence.
To qualify her offensive statement she explained that I have extreme mood swings and when I am moody I 'go very quiet'. I am now on the look out for a group of people who remain chirpy when 'in a mood' so that I might learn from them. I do my best to maintain a positive outlook most days but what with one thing and another (mainly K and the kids) I do occasionaly find myself slightly annoyed and less than jolly so I keep a low profile until my normal frame of mind returns. So, perhaps you could read this in your head so as not to annoy anyone who might be nearby. Also, according to the elder sister my constant scrabble playing (on iphone - totally addicted I admit) is also very irritating. So to summarise, I am definitely annoying. Mercifully the remaining UK based sister finds me less irritating and I am sitting with her now whilst she delicately ices 1000 cupcakes in preparation for a fair tomorrow. (Just in case you fancy some for yourself it's http://www.queenofcupcakes.co.uk/ I have been eating them on your behalf and the ten I've tried are immensely tasty.) Oooh I also saw the lesser spotted US based sister this week who, having not seen me for six years, was very pleased to spend time with me and it was totally lovely to see her too. I shall console myself with this knowledge. Two out of four ain't bad.
Actually, no offence, but you aren't important enough for me to keep writing so I am going to leave and eat some more cake. I shall return to London tomorrow and commence annoying K. He has had a week off so might have temporarily forgotten how annoying I am and therefore be momentarily pleased to see me. That should give me something interesting to talk about until the next West Suffolk WI meeting. Until then my long suffering friends.
Adios xx
On to the week where nothing happened. There was a small excitement with the arrival of the village newsletter (my absolute favourite publication ever). It opened with the Editor talking about the excitement of the royal wedding being over and his need for a good plumber and window cleaner. Then came the monthly report from the WI. This part is actually my favourite. I am paraphrasing now as mother recycled it before I could whisk it away to copy verbatim - but it went something like this - 'The meeting then took a very interesting turn when Jane Smith (not actual name obviously) showed us an ingenious way to fold plastic bags so that they fit neatly into your handbag - very useful! Then Mary Windsor (same) showed us the beautiful Fascinators she had created after last month's talk on Fascinators.' (I am totally convinced that I would love these WI meetings. I am going to try and get invited to one.) There was more about walking groups and the featured decade 'The 1970s' but I can't remember it. Then came news from the local pub who now offer a takeaway service including tea's and coffee's. There is nothing I like more than an unnecessary apostrophe or two. Then onwards with a few paragraphs from a local policeman warning residents of a recent spate of garden thefts - notably bird tables and ornaments (watch out Alan Titchmarsh is clearly on the rampage) and then the Editor reprised with an indepth article on a local plumber who he was, confusingly, heartily recommending. I am planning on emailing him and pointing out that it wasn't a convincing endorsement that he wouldn't use the said plumber himself. (I appreciate that my need to feel superior by deriding this man's effort to keep up community spirit and keep people informed is ugly, but I don't care. It makes me laugh until I cry so in one way the editor is a comic genius and I am in awe of him.)
Other than that I have been laying pretty low. It appears that I am annoying. I know this because the youngest betrothed sister has kindly given me the heads up on this one. It was quite a harsh reality check as the news came in amidst a story of someone she found terribly annoying and has had an ongoing problem with for quite a few months, with the harsh punchline - 'no offence, but she reminds me of you'. Ouch. I love the caveat 'no offence'. It gives you the freedom to say anything to anyone as long as you begin the offensive statement with 'no offence'. No offence, but you are ridiculously fat. No offence, but you are incredibly bossy and self centred. No offence, but you are incredibly rude. You get the idea. I'm sure something similar has happened to you in the past. No offence.
To qualify her offensive statement she explained that I have extreme mood swings and when I am moody I 'go very quiet'. I am now on the look out for a group of people who remain chirpy when 'in a mood' so that I might learn from them. I do my best to maintain a positive outlook most days but what with one thing and another (mainly K and the kids) I do occasionaly find myself slightly annoyed and less than jolly so I keep a low profile until my normal frame of mind returns. So, perhaps you could read this in your head so as not to annoy anyone who might be nearby. Also, according to the elder sister my constant scrabble playing (on iphone - totally addicted I admit) is also very irritating. So to summarise, I am definitely annoying. Mercifully the remaining UK based sister finds me less irritating and I am sitting with her now whilst she delicately ices 1000 cupcakes in preparation for a fair tomorrow. (Just in case you fancy some for yourself it's http://www.queenofcupcakes.co.uk/ I have been eating them on your behalf and the ten I've tried are immensely tasty.) Oooh I also saw the lesser spotted US based sister this week who, having not seen me for six years, was very pleased to spend time with me and it was totally lovely to see her too. I shall console myself with this knowledge. Two out of four ain't bad.
Actually, no offence, but you aren't important enough for me to keep writing so I am going to leave and eat some more cake. I shall return to London tomorrow and commence annoying K. He has had a week off so might have temporarily forgotten how annoying I am and therefore be momentarily pleased to see me. That should give me something interesting to talk about until the next West Suffolk WI meeting. Until then my long suffering friends.
Adios xx
Thursday, 26 May 2011
Muchos Excitingos
I write this from my death bed. I have a severe cold and sore throat which is probably terminal. However I felt I had to write about the most ridiculously exciting events from today.
Bank Balance: £1.88 (V. Bad)
Gas Meter: £0.00 and no emergency credit (V. Bad)
WW propoints: 13 (out of possible 29 VVVV good)
Number of employed adults in the household: 2!!!!!
Oh yes people, two whole employed adults in our little impoverished household. This has not been the case since August 2004. But today, I passed my final assessment and am now officially a Weight Watchers leader. It sounds a bit lame to the uninitiated but to me it is the end of a very long process and therefore is hugely important. I did obviously manage to stuff it up as I only I can. It is hard to explain to anyone not involved with wibblies but basically I spent a long time talking about something I had fundamentally wrong which is a very basic fact most new members would know and I, being the supposed expert, should have known. It was a shame the Area Manager (from now on known as 'my boss') was the one who had to tell me afterwards. It made me look particularly stupid. Still, she passed me anyway and now I am part of a company, with a boss and a salary (soon-ish) and a discount at Fitness First (useless to me). However that is not the most exciting part of my day. Hold your breath.......
I lost another 2.5 pounds this week and.............................................................. I am NO LONGER OBESE! According to the NHS website calculator my BMI now begins with a 2 and ends in a 9 so for all future medical purposes I am simply overweight. I have dreamt of this moment for many years. I don't know how much I weighed at my wedding but I'm pretty sure I wasn't technically obese then, but I have most definitely been ever since the honeymoon outbound in flight meals, the McDonalds I had at the stopover in Dubai and then all the thousands of calories I ingested whilst we sat on our arses for two weeks in the Maldives. (K did not gain weight annoyingly - as we couldn't both afford to eat lunch he very gallantly said that I could and he also didn't seem to understand 'stocking' up on the 'free' buffet breakfast included in the deal or indeed the beauty of sampling all six desserts on offer at the beach BBQ to achieve maximum value for money - FOOL). So, it has been over eight years since I can boast of being merely overweight. The NHS website didn't quite share my enthusiasm though, through my tears of excitement I read 'You are overweight which increases the risk of becoming ill with problems such as high blood pressure, heart disease and cancer'. Way to piss on my parade.
Is there any serious illness they won't attribute to being overweight/obese? Why can't they just say - bum, you are overweight/obese and therefore people assume you are lazy and greedy and it's hard to buy nice clothes/look good in a bikini? But no, they have to spend millions of pounds on research to find out that you're going to get cancer, you're going to have a heart attack/stroke, dementia, diabetes, dvt, depression, in fact anything you can bloody think of, they have attributed to weight. I say enough. I say spend your money researching more interesting and useful things like curing a cold and a very sore throat. No one aspires to be overweight so it's unlikely all their dire warnings are going to make people think 'perhaps this year I won't put on three stone'. Idiots. I should run this country. I would be amazingly good at it and let's face it, people would be happier.
I shall go, I am a very importantly employed and non-obese person so I have many important and merely overweight things to do. I also have a duty to spend the rest of my life in very good health so the ridiculous anti-fat Nazis can't attribute any of my serious illnesses to my overweight status and bolster their fanciful research. I will have to increase my ketchup intake.
Untilus weus meetus againus. (Latin - if you need a translation let me know)
Bank Balance: £1.88 (V. Bad)
Gas Meter: £0.00 and no emergency credit (V. Bad)
WW propoints: 13 (out of possible 29 VVVV good)
Number of employed adults in the household: 2!!!!!
Oh yes people, two whole employed adults in our little impoverished household. This has not been the case since August 2004. But today, I passed my final assessment and am now officially a Weight Watchers leader. It sounds a bit lame to the uninitiated but to me it is the end of a very long process and therefore is hugely important. I did obviously manage to stuff it up as I only I can. It is hard to explain to anyone not involved with wibblies but basically I spent a long time talking about something I had fundamentally wrong which is a very basic fact most new members would know and I, being the supposed expert, should have known. It was a shame the Area Manager (from now on known as 'my boss') was the one who had to tell me afterwards. It made me look particularly stupid. Still, she passed me anyway and now I am part of a company, with a boss and a salary (soon-ish) and a discount at Fitness First (useless to me). However that is not the most exciting part of my day. Hold your breath.......
I lost another 2.5 pounds this week and.............................................................. I am NO LONGER OBESE! According to the NHS website calculator my BMI now begins with a 2 and ends in a 9 so for all future medical purposes I am simply overweight. I have dreamt of this moment for many years. I don't know how much I weighed at my wedding but I'm pretty sure I wasn't technically obese then, but I have most definitely been ever since the honeymoon outbound in flight meals, the McDonalds I had at the stopover in Dubai and then all the thousands of calories I ingested whilst we sat on our arses for two weeks in the Maldives. (K did not gain weight annoyingly - as we couldn't both afford to eat lunch he very gallantly said that I could and he also didn't seem to understand 'stocking' up on the 'free' buffet breakfast included in the deal or indeed the beauty of sampling all six desserts on offer at the beach BBQ to achieve maximum value for money - FOOL). So, it has been over eight years since I can boast of being merely overweight. The NHS website didn't quite share my enthusiasm though, through my tears of excitement I read 'You are overweight which increases the risk of becoming ill with problems such as high blood pressure, heart disease and cancer'. Way to piss on my parade.
Is there any serious illness they won't attribute to being overweight/obese? Why can't they just say - bum, you are overweight/obese and therefore people assume you are lazy and greedy and it's hard to buy nice clothes/look good in a bikini? But no, they have to spend millions of pounds on research to find out that you're going to get cancer, you're going to have a heart attack/stroke, dementia, diabetes, dvt, depression, in fact anything you can bloody think of, they have attributed to weight. I say enough. I say spend your money researching more interesting and useful things like curing a cold and a very sore throat. No one aspires to be overweight so it's unlikely all their dire warnings are going to make people think 'perhaps this year I won't put on three stone'. Idiots. I should run this country. I would be amazingly good at it and let's face it, people would be happier.
I shall go, I am a very importantly employed and non-obese person so I have many important and merely overweight things to do. I also have a duty to spend the rest of my life in very good health so the ridiculous anti-fat Nazis can't attribute any of my serious illnesses to my overweight status and bolster their fanciful research. I will have to increase my ketchup intake.
Untilus weus meetus againus. (Latin - if you need a translation let me know)
Wednesday, 25 May 2011
More of the new era
For some reason as yet unknown, half of yesterday's post went missing when I published it so I am back to fill you in on what you missed out on. It was utterly scintillating obviously so I would hate to deprive you. I can't remember what I wrote verbatim but I will summarise:
I know you will all have worried about the September spelling issue. Bright and early on Monday morning I produced the spelling test and queried the teacher on what exactly was wrong with 'September'. She was both apologetic and accusatory. On the one hand she was so sorry as there was obviously nothing wrong with it and on the other she was quite convinced that when she gave the marked test back for the children to draw pictures on, Bea must have corrected hers. It was slightly uncomfortable as we both apologised to each other for a few minutes before agreeing on nothing and departing. I fear I may have come across as a pushy mother which is horrid as I am very much not that type. Not that I think there is anything wrong with helping your child achieve their academic best, it's just that I am more of a coasting type of parent. I am under no illusion that my children are anything but average and I am most happy for them to coast along academically somewhere comfortably in the middle. Anyway, that afternoon I asked Bea if she thought that maybe she had corrected it (something she previously denied) and after a few moments thought, she agreed that that is exactly what had happened. I felt particularly foolish. Although not as mortified as I did later on, when she breezily informed me that she had told the teacher who runs the school choir that I had forbidden her from taking part in singing Mary Mary's 'Shackles' as I deemed it inappropriate. I was mortified. What had actually happened was that she had brought the lyrics home to learn and I had laughed and wondered (to myself, I thought) how appropriate it was for an infant choir as there is quite a lot of slang and lost consonants in the song which might confuse small people. I can only imagine the teacher's thoughts when Bea made this ridiculous announcement. I must now make a huge effort to appear as a very laid back lefty loving gospel singing mum over the next half term. I would hate to be known in the staffroom as the pushy prude mum.
Back to today. I am full of nervous energy over my big final meeting tomorrow. I can think of little else which is why I am doing this to take my mind off it (my notes and all prep are all ready to go - provided no child is hideously ill or my childcare for tomorrow falls through, it should all go well). K's job is going well as far as I know. He is being monosyllabic for the most part so it's difficult to tell. The good news is that he will no longer be working Saturdays! I cannot tell you how utterly thrilling and life changing that news is. The most we have ever had before is him working every other Saturday which seemed quite indulgent but now to have every single weekend with K is beyond my wildest dreams. I know there must be many out there who have suffered similarly but Saturdays are incredibly lonely when you are on your own. It seems as if the rest of the world are cosying up as families or doing exciting day trips when I am muddling through, taking and getting Bea from ballet and whatever party she has on and then cramming in a park trip before watching the clock from 5 o' clock onwards waiting for the front door to open so I can escape/go to bed/handover. Now the weekends will be ours! I shall make sure we go to the park as a family and flaunt our new found weekend familyness in front of everyone.
I better go. I can't focus. I'm too nervous. I'll have a bath and try and sleep. Wish me luck x
I know you will all have worried about the September spelling issue. Bright and early on Monday morning I produced the spelling test and queried the teacher on what exactly was wrong with 'September'. She was both apologetic and accusatory. On the one hand she was so sorry as there was obviously nothing wrong with it and on the other she was quite convinced that when she gave the marked test back for the children to draw pictures on, Bea must have corrected hers. It was slightly uncomfortable as we both apologised to each other for a few minutes before agreeing on nothing and departing. I fear I may have come across as a pushy mother which is horrid as I am very much not that type. Not that I think there is anything wrong with helping your child achieve their academic best, it's just that I am more of a coasting type of parent. I am under no illusion that my children are anything but average and I am most happy for them to coast along academically somewhere comfortably in the middle. Anyway, that afternoon I asked Bea if she thought that maybe she had corrected it (something she previously denied) and after a few moments thought, she agreed that that is exactly what had happened. I felt particularly foolish. Although not as mortified as I did later on, when she breezily informed me that she had told the teacher who runs the school choir that I had forbidden her from taking part in singing Mary Mary's 'Shackles' as I deemed it inappropriate. I was mortified. What had actually happened was that she had brought the lyrics home to learn and I had laughed and wondered (to myself, I thought) how appropriate it was for an infant choir as there is quite a lot of slang and lost consonants in the song which might confuse small people. I can only imagine the teacher's thoughts when Bea made this ridiculous announcement. I must now make a huge effort to appear as a very laid back lefty loving gospel singing mum over the next half term. I would hate to be known in the staffroom as the pushy prude mum.
Back to today. I am full of nervous energy over my big final meeting tomorrow. I can think of little else which is why I am doing this to take my mind off it (my notes and all prep are all ready to go - provided no child is hideously ill or my childcare for tomorrow falls through, it should all go well). K's job is going well as far as I know. He is being monosyllabic for the most part so it's difficult to tell. The good news is that he will no longer be working Saturdays! I cannot tell you how utterly thrilling and life changing that news is. The most we have ever had before is him working every other Saturday which seemed quite indulgent but now to have every single weekend with K is beyond my wildest dreams. I know there must be many out there who have suffered similarly but Saturdays are incredibly lonely when you are on your own. It seems as if the rest of the world are cosying up as families or doing exciting day trips when I am muddling through, taking and getting Bea from ballet and whatever party she has on and then cramming in a park trip before watching the clock from 5 o' clock onwards waiting for the front door to open so I can escape/go to bed/handover. Now the weekends will be ours! I shall make sure we go to the park as a family and flaunt our new found weekend familyness in front of everyone.
I better go. I can't focus. I'm too nervous. I'll have a bath and try and sleep. Wish me luck x
Tuesday, 24 May 2011
New era
Hello people of the new era. We are 48 hours in and it turns out that being a single parent again is jolly hard work. I had become far too used to being able to run out of the house at a moment's notice, organise things without worrying about childcare and far too reliant on yelling 'k' when things got tricky with the children. I had also forgotten how much forward planning is needed when you are alone. My first day back on the job, I was cooking sausages for the children's supper and to my horror, I realised we had no ketchup. My children have not been raised particularly well and therefore there are very few foods they will eat without the red stuff to enhance the taste. G once even insisted on having it with his sliced apple. That grossed me out and I am a huge ketchup fan. I am not ashamed of it though - it is for health reasons. As a former smoker for many years I am medically in need of the anti-lung cancer lycopene which ketchup contains (look it up but I totally believe it). Anyway, sausages cooking and extra child picked up, I was left with my three, no ketchup and no helpful neighbours to borrow ketchup from. So, I did the unthinkable. I put Ted in the buggy and left the others in two different rooms in front of two different telly programmes, and ran up to the shop at the end of our very short road. I had briefed Bea not to move from her chair and hadn't bothered telling G anything. I was out of the house for about four minutes and when I got home Bea was shocked as she assumed I hadn't yet left and G hadn't noticed anything at all. I did feel huge guilt, naturally, and it didn't help that Bea's eyes widened considerably when she asked if the police would take me to prison if they ever found out what I'd done, but quite frankly I have spent longer away from them whilst having a shower upstairs without consequence. I knew that my absence from the house wouldn't cause them to spontaneously combust or anything ludicrous but I did worry an opportunist child snatcher who might have been monitoring our house for weeks could have used my absence to swoop in and get them to answer the door by offering them sweets or something, so I did feel relieved to find them both exactly where they were when I left. It was risky but there is no need to ring the NSPCC, I shan't be doing it again. I will get back into the swing of things again soon and make sure I have ketchup in stock at all times. I should have learnt my lesson on the ketchup front last year when, in a similar situation, I sent Bea over the road to ask our 90yr old neighbour to borrow his bottle, but as he opened the door to her, he fell over and couldn't get up again so poor Bea was stuck at the front door slightly ajar with a very tall and very old man stuck behind it. Luckily I came to our door to see what was taking so long and we quickly swapped places. More luckily, the relatively sprightly 80yr old neighbours to the 90yr old arrived home and took over the situation so that I could go back to the children around the table refusing to eat. After a few minutes of shutting the front door, the unfazed 80yr old knocked on our door very concerned that her 'babies' weren't eating and proffered a napkin, inside which were about twenty sachets of ketchup collected by her over the years from various pubs. We were terribly grateful at the time and quickly ripped off the pesky corners and squeezed them on to plates, but as I was throwing the sachets away I noticed that some of them had expiry dates which caused alarm. Most of them were at their best many years before Bea was conceived. Still, they didn't appear to cause any harm and the 90yr old got back up and drank his tea. All's well that ends well.
Oh God it's 10 o'clock already. I haven't even got to the point I wanted to make. I shall have to try and remember it for another time. It won't be tomorrow night as I'll be busy writing the final talk for my Weight Watchers training (I can no longer refer to it as wibblies as I used the term in front of my trainer and almost in front of a group last thursday). It will no doubt be Thursday when I shall write to you as an official WW leader. I'm not sure I shall be excited so much as bloody relieved the whole process is over. Roll on Thursday night and a bottle of wine.
See you there. x
Oh God it's 10 o'clock already. I haven't even got to the point I wanted to make. I shall have to try and remember it for another time. It won't be tomorrow night as I'll be busy writing the final talk for my Weight Watchers training (I can no longer refer to it as wibblies as I used the term in front of my trainer and almost in front of a group last thursday). It will no doubt be Thursday when I shall write to you as an official WW leader. I'm not sure I shall be excited so much as bloody relieved the whole process is over. Roll on Thursday night and a bottle of wine.
See you there. x
Friday, 20 May 2011
End of an era
Well folks, today was a sad/happy oxymoron kind of day as it was the last official day of work for the manny. As of 0900 hrs on Monday morning he will return to the world of official work and I shall once again be in charge of up to four children a day (I take in an extra one in the afternoon during term time). Obviously we are thrilled to have an income source but the children will miss him terribly and I am slightly scared of doing it all on my own and not having 'on tap' childcare. I made the most of my last day though, I left the boys at home and spent three hours in the Big Shop spending my entire monthly bills budget on the contents of my trolley. I got ever so slightly carried away with the idea of K being employed again and bought enough food to feed the five thousand (plus a few things from the clothing department). The checkout lady looked relieved when she reached the pinata stick I had bought for a friend and said 'ohhh you're having a party, now I understand'. I did correct her but she said it again towards the end, 'I know you're having a party'. She clearly thought I was trying to conceal a party from her. I'm not sure why, as it is highly unlikely I would ever invite a checkout assistant to any party I might have, merely as a thank you for processing my shopping so I would be more than happy to have told her the truth if I were having one. Worryingly, I put at least £30 of stuff back. It boggles my mind how the total came to twice as much as my usual shop. In fairness to me, the freezer, fridge and cupboards are now full to bursting and I have a rather special pair of cream wedges and three pairs of firm control Bridget Jones pants which will double the number of clothes I can wear, therefore saving us money. It is a difficult kind of logic but do try and keep up.
That is not the most exciting part of the day though - there are two major excitements to report. 1. Way back in October, I spent the day eating and drinking champagne at a party for a friend and on the walk home I managed to lose my purse somewhere between the friend's house, school run, another friend's house and our house. I spent many days making people search under their sofas and K under the seats of his car and all over the house. In turn, I spent many fruitless hours searching under our sofas and in the buggy and bags etc. After five days I declared it officially lost and moved on slightly sadder. Obviously being me, there was no money in it and the only thing of value it held was my driving licence and my boots points card, but the purse itself was valuable as it was a third anniversary present from K and that particular April we happened to have some money so to celebrate the 'leather' anniversary he had splashed out on a Mulberry one. My elder sister stepped in for my Bday in November and gave me her old mulberry purse and life continued as before. That was until today - in a rash moment I started emptying the pit of crap which is our under stairs cupboard where I happened upon our broken hoover and my old buggy bag. I thought the bag might be worth something on ebay so I began emptying it - baby socks, a contact lens and then something harder, concealed somehow in the plastic lining. YES, it was the very Mulberry wallet I had lost seven months ago. That kind of excitement has not been witnessed within these four walls for many, many years. (Since we got a mortgage with a high street lender actually. THAT was ridiculously exciting for us as we are terribly un-credit worthy. Hilariously enough the banking crash followed shortly after and people with adverse credit were particularly vilified so we kept our heads firmly down and tutted and murmured along with the rest of the chattering middle classes). 2. More excitement followed with K ringing me at the checkout to let me listen to the sweet, sweet sound of a working hoover. He had come over all manly and taken the back panel off our broken one, found the loose wire and fixed it. Amazing. I rushed immediately to the lottery counter and bought two tickets for tonight and two for tomorrow. I feel quite sure we will be millionaires in the next 24 hours. We are on a roll.
Bea is not. Her teacher has mis-marked her spelling test. I am outraged at the injustice. They marked her spelling of September as wrong. I am at a loss as to why as all the letters are formed correctly and were carefully placed in the proper order. I have looked and re-looked but can't find a problem. If I ever work out how, I may even upload a photo of it to prove the point. Anyhoo, I have put the test back in her book bag already so that I can return on Monday morning and thrust the offending test in the teacher's face and demand a re-mark. Thankfully Bea came out much better off from my Sainsbury's shop than anyone else as the Barbie DVDs were buy one get one free and she isn't as worried about spelling test injustices as I am so she actually didn't care at all. We also decided to mark the last day of the Manny by treating everyone to a Mr Whippy ice cream on the way home and I decided to do a stint as a 'perfect mother/childminder' so they all made strawberry tarts with squirty cream when we got home. It was chaos but definitely worth it. I had totally forgotten the excitement of discovering squirty cream when I was young. It is incredibly fun. Ted is a huge fan. I also made spaghetti and meatballs for tea which I have never made before. I'm not sure why as it is incredibly simple. Suffice to say I am now relaxing, feeling smug and self satisfied at my wondrous self. And K is in the kitchen slaving over a hot stove on my supper. And Ted is asleep in his new,very cute Gruffalo pyjamas. Things are good again.
I fear the bubbles in my drink have gone straight to my head. I think I should stop. I was planning a Manny evaluation/reference but I don't think I can manage it. I'm not sure much of this makes sense already. I am a total lightweight. I shall just quickly say that from here on in the character formerly known as 'Manny' will now be referred to as simply, 'K'. It is the end of an era. We shall miss him.
See you in the new era. Sob. Smile. Sob. xxx Smile.
That is not the most exciting part of the day though - there are two major excitements to report. 1. Way back in October, I spent the day eating and drinking champagne at a party for a friend and on the walk home I managed to lose my purse somewhere between the friend's house, school run, another friend's house and our house. I spent many days making people search under their sofas and K under the seats of his car and all over the house. In turn, I spent many fruitless hours searching under our sofas and in the buggy and bags etc. After five days I declared it officially lost and moved on slightly sadder. Obviously being me, there was no money in it and the only thing of value it held was my driving licence and my boots points card, but the purse itself was valuable as it was a third anniversary present from K and that particular April we happened to have some money so to celebrate the 'leather' anniversary he had splashed out on a Mulberry one. My elder sister stepped in for my Bday in November and gave me her old mulberry purse and life continued as before. That was until today - in a rash moment I started emptying the pit of crap which is our under stairs cupboard where I happened upon our broken hoover and my old buggy bag. I thought the bag might be worth something on ebay so I began emptying it - baby socks, a contact lens and then something harder, concealed somehow in the plastic lining. YES, it was the very Mulberry wallet I had lost seven months ago. That kind of excitement has not been witnessed within these four walls for many, many years. (Since we got a mortgage with a high street lender actually. THAT was ridiculously exciting for us as we are terribly un-credit worthy. Hilariously enough the banking crash followed shortly after and people with adverse credit were particularly vilified so we kept our heads firmly down and tutted and murmured along with the rest of the chattering middle classes). 2. More excitement followed with K ringing me at the checkout to let me listen to the sweet, sweet sound of a working hoover. He had come over all manly and taken the back panel off our broken one, found the loose wire and fixed it. Amazing. I rushed immediately to the lottery counter and bought two tickets for tonight and two for tomorrow. I feel quite sure we will be millionaires in the next 24 hours. We are on a roll.
Bea is not. Her teacher has mis-marked her spelling test. I am outraged at the injustice. They marked her spelling of September as wrong. I am at a loss as to why as all the letters are formed correctly and were carefully placed in the proper order. I have looked and re-looked but can't find a problem. If I ever work out how, I may even upload a photo of it to prove the point. Anyhoo, I have put the test back in her book bag already so that I can return on Monday morning and thrust the offending test in the teacher's face and demand a re-mark. Thankfully Bea came out much better off from my Sainsbury's shop than anyone else as the Barbie DVDs were buy one get one free and she isn't as worried about spelling test injustices as I am so she actually didn't care at all. We also decided to mark the last day of the Manny by treating everyone to a Mr Whippy ice cream on the way home and I decided to do a stint as a 'perfect mother/childminder' so they all made strawberry tarts with squirty cream when we got home. It was chaos but definitely worth it. I had totally forgotten the excitement of discovering squirty cream when I was young. It is incredibly fun. Ted is a huge fan. I also made spaghetti and meatballs for tea which I have never made before. I'm not sure why as it is incredibly simple. Suffice to say I am now relaxing, feeling smug and self satisfied at my wondrous self. And K is in the kitchen slaving over a hot stove on my supper. And Ted is asleep in his new,very cute Gruffalo pyjamas. Things are good again.
I fear the bubbles in my drink have gone straight to my head. I think I should stop. I was planning a Manny evaluation/reference but I don't think I can manage it. I'm not sure much of this makes sense already. I am a total lightweight. I shall just quickly say that from here on in the character formerly known as 'Manny' will now be referred to as simply, 'K'. It is the end of an era. We shall miss him.
See you in the new era. Sob. Smile. Sob. xxx Smile.
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