Monday, February 28, 2005

I'm going BonKeRs!!

This being a Mommy stuff is so HHhhhaaaarrrdDDDDD (whiny, whingy voice). The baby is driving me to eat cake (I can't drink much due to breastfeeding) because she keeps screeching and screaming and having mini tantrums where the spittle drips down her chin to the floor, her face turns purple and there's long silences that erupt in ear splitting wails.

I know it's because her second front tooth is cutting in, and I know it's got to be hurting her, but I'm seriously considering sending her to daycare to get a break. Let her be someone else's earache for a few hours. We got to one point on Saturday where it was 5pm, and she was crying again, but I couldn't give her anymore painkillers because she'd maxed out her dosage for 24 hours. That was a hell night where she woke every two hours, full volume scream.

The only time she was joyful was when I let her sit on the floor of the shower while I let the shower massage pound the tension in my neck. I would've stayed in the shower for hours if I could, she loved every second of it. But, as soon as it was over, the crying started again.

The poop is horrible. We've been blessed so far with having pretty bland smelling poop, but this week it's been
Toxic Diaper Death. Not only does it smell bad, but it gets's like it's alive and spreads up her back, up her belly and even down the legs a couple times. It makes the thought of going out anywhere unbearable..."What if she poops??" I whisper, not wanting to jinx the sphincter.

The final insult: I felt she was getting way too upset, so I tried some recommended "skin to skin" contact the books all say calm an anxious baby. I got topless, she got topless and I held her close in my arms, her head near my heart. She told me in her own way she wanted to breastfeed, I though great, she can't cry and drink at the same time, She opened her mouth and BIT ME!

The crying then continued.

It's a Dare.

Chili Knob.

Knob Chili.

Hot Pockets.

Hot Rocks.

Pop Rocks.

Thursday, February 24, 2005

An AA's Adventure

I'm fully committed to trying to make sense of this Adolescent Again phenomenon. Being Thirty-something and caught in between the carefree twenties and the Free Again Forties. Where are we? Where do we belong and where do we fit in?

I've been thinking a lot about what I was doing when I was thirteen ( I'm thirty-three so it's my adolescent equivalent) and what was going on in my life. I was up every day at 5:30 to go with my mom into the city where she worked, and I went to school. Getting up so early meant I had no time for hair, make-up, fashion or even a shower so I always felt like a complete dork; ugly to the core. I went to a private, all-girls school that was my mother's alma mater. There were only about 100-120 students, and 90% of them were filthy rich. I was not rich, nor exactly filthy, but certainly scruffy when compared to the Greek Ambassador's and the Yuppie Lawyer's daughters. I wanted to be accepted, but I knew I wasn't able to buy my clothes where they did, or have cool things like they had.

I could, however, afford to buy hair dye with my babysitting money. I could do what their parent's wouldn't let them; I could be a punk.
Ok, not really, my mother was slightly conservative, but also very tired and easy to bully if I put my mind to it. I was allowed to dye my natural medium brown hair, to copper penny red. I also got a haircut and a perm. When I was finished with my make over, I had a bright shiny red curly mullet; and I looked hot! I was not, however, allowed to bleach the strip of hair behind my left ear, as was current fashion, so I hair wrapped it instead in neon colors and put some wee trinkets hanging off it: a silver wishbone, a shell, a couple of bells that jingled when I walked.

My confidence skyrocketed, now when I walked around I felt like MTV were filming my every move. Nature helped out a whole bunch with giving me a set of "D" cups and an hourglass figure when most of the other girls were still...girls. It was the dawning of a time of being popular and admired, and did I appreciate any of this? Hell no. I was still terrified, deep down, that somehow my inner geek would mess things up for me.

So where am I today and what parallels have I drawn? Well, my "D" cups are now an "F" but that's down to breastfeeding, and I know when that stops, my nips will be a whole lot lower than they were when I was thirteen. I really could care less if anyone likes me or not, I know I'm decent, weird and funny and if they can't "get me", figure me out and accept me, it's their problem not mine. I have had to accept that my body isn't going to recommend me as "cool" to other people any more, in that regard I've become desperately average. I still see the cliques with the moms who gather to collect the kids after school, and I can stand back and observe, wave hello and be comfortable in not "belonging" but also in not being invisible.

I have to teach my little girl how to play nice, but don't play with kids who make you cry, and if they hit you-hit them back, then go tell the teacher. I still want her to see her Mommy having friends, and knowing that a few great friends are more important than a clique of twats you tolerate for sake of your image.

What else can I do? I can still change my hair. Now that I'm not working in the bank, where hair style and color is regulated by dress code, I can be adventurous. In fact, I've gone out today, chopped the lot down short, bleached it blonde, bought funky sticky goo stuff to make it all spikey and freaked out my Husband.
He's going to bed with an MTV star tonight!

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

I'm not as butch as I thought...

I've always thought I was a wee toughie; especially when I was young. Ready for a fight, loved an argument and I have a flair for mechanics which I get from my Dad; he taught me how to detail my car, change and rotate the tires, change the distributer cap and spark plugs.

I have to admit, in my Thirties, I've become a big Puss. It's having kids that's done it to me I think. They're just so cute, and my hormornes are in the blue range (I cry a lot now) and, well, yeah. I'm a big Puss is all I can say to sum it up. This just seems to prove it.

Your Brain is 73.33% Female, 26.67% Male

Your brain leans female

You think with your heart, not your head

Sweet and considerate, you are a giver

But you're tough enough not to let anyone take advantage of you!


What's this horrid white crap falling out of the sky?? I've been away from the USA for nearly 10 years and have been blissfully snow free...until today!!

There's three inches on the's been snowing all day. Those big, fat fluffy flakes that are all sticky and turn into deep slush.


Mt crocuses were just coming up too...

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

*Blink* *Blink*

Where in all the pig ass end have all my cute wee polka dots gone??

They've been gone for days.

I can't see any pictures either....which is a shame because I found a great blog that's chock-a-block with them.

I'm disenchanted with Blogger right about now. Thought maybe it was a wee glitch, but seems to be a semi-fucking-meltdown.

I feel all naked without my polka dots...

Things that make me go Grrrrrrrr!

I like to trawl through the blogs when I have a few minutes of quiet "me" time. I keep hoping to come across another diamond in the rough. It's how I found Kimdergarten and Candi.

It really annoys me when folks make their own fancy schmancy blog pages...well not really they are nice to look at, but make me feel inferior with my Blogger Basic, but why do these folks have to remove the "next blog" button??? It's so freaking inconvenient to have to back page and then go forward again. And what's with these little pop up windows saying "I luv U" and "Cum again, I cry til u do" which you have to close before you progress. I really hate hate hate those!!! It seems to be all those Asian "4EverGirls" who are perpetually nine years old and try to be sexy at the same time. Tres perverted...I certainly wouldn't want a man who got off on women pretending to be a child. *Creeepy Shiver*

OK...I think I have that out of my system...

Sunday, February 20, 2005

Jokes For a Grouchy Monday!

I promised some dirt. This is as good as it gets for me. I don't like smut, but clever dirt.

The Amazing Goldstein

A traveling salesman visits a small town in the Midwest and sees a circus banner reading, "Don't Miss the Amazing Goldstein!" Curious, he buys a ticket and sits through the usual circus acts: animals, clowns, contortionists, etc. Suddenly, trumpets blare and all eyes turn to the center ring. There, in the middle of the ring, is a table with three walnuts on it. In comes a little old Jewish man, five feet five inches tall, and barely able to walk to the table. He unzips his pants, whips out an impressive prodigious member, grabs it in his hand, and proceeds to smash all three walnuts with three mighty swings! The crowd erupts in thunderous applause as the elderly Goldstein is carried off on the shoulders of the clowns.

Ten years later, the same salesman visits the same Little town
and sees the same circus being advertised with the same (now faded) banner reading, "Don't Miss the Amazing Goldstein!" Our friend the salesman can't believe the old guy is still alive; much less still doing his act! So, he buys a ticket and sits through the various acts, waiting for the big finale. Finally, the center ring is illuminated. This time, instead of walnuts,three coconuts are on the table. As before, old Goldstein takes forever to make it to the table. He unzips his fly and proceeds to smash the coconuts with three swings of his amazing schlong. The crowd goes wild!

The salesman requests a meeting with him
after the show. In Goldstein's dressing room, the salesman tells him he's never seen anything like Goldstein's act. But, he wants to know why Goldstein,at his age, is now smashing large coconuts instead of the much smaller walnuts.

"Vell," says Goldstein, wearily, "My eyes aren't vhat they used
to be!"

A little boy got on the bus, sat next to a man reading a book,
and noticed he had his collar on backwards.
The little boy asked why he wore his collar that way.

The man, who was a priest, said, "I am a Father."
The little boy replied, "My daddy doesn't wear his collar like that."
The priest looked up from his book and answered, "I am the Father
of many."

The boy said, "My dad has 4 boys, 4 girls, and two grandchildren
and he doesn't wear his collar that way."

The priest, getting very impatient, said, " I am the father of
hundreds" and went back to reading his book.

The little boy sat quietly...but leaving the bus he leaned over and
said...."Well maybe you should wear your pants backwards instead
of your collar."


This guy who owns a horse farm gets a call from a friend.
The friend says, "I know this midget with a speech impediment who wants to buy a horse, and I'm sending him over."
The midget arrives, and the owner asks him if he wants a male or female horse.
"A female horth," the midget replies. So the owner shows him one. "Nith looking horth. Can I see her mouf?"

So the owner picks up the midget and shows him the horse's teeth. "Nith mouf, can I see her eyeth?"

So the owner picks up the midget and shows him her eyes.

"OK, what about the earsth?"

Now the owners is beginning to get a little pissed, but he picks up the midget one more time and shows him her ears.

"Okay, finally, I would like to see her twat."
With that, the owner loses all patience, picks up the midget, and shoves his head up the horse's twat, then pulls him out.
Shaking his wet head, the midget says, "Perhapth I should rephrase that. I would like to thee the horth run."

Bounce Dryer Sheets

I got this e-mail years ago, and it's been fantastic. I actually followed some of he tips and they do work. My friends may think I'm weird for carrying dryer sheets in my handbag, but it always smells great, my hair is smooth and static free and my computer screen repels dust. Also, no one can sneak up on you and zap you with shuffle feet shocks. I hate that!

Did you know that:

1. It will chase ants away when you lay a sheet near them.

2. It takes the odor out of books and photo albums that don't get opened too often.

3. It repels mosquitoes. Tie a sheet of Bounce through a belt loop when outdoors during mosquito season.

4. It eliminates static electricity from your television screen. Since Bounce is designed to help eliminate static cling, wipe your television screen with a used sheet of Bounce to keep dust from resettling.

5. It dissolves soap scum from shower doors. Clean with a sheet of Bounce.

6. It will freshen the air in your home. Place an individual sheet of Bounce in a drawer or hang in the closet.

7. It prevents threads from tangling. Run a threaded needle through sheet of Bounce before beginning to sew.

8. It prevents musty suitcases. Place an individual sheet of Bounce inside empty luggage before storing.

9. It freshens the air in your car. Place a sheet of Bounce under the front seat.

10. It will clean baked-on foods from a cooking pan. Put a sheet in a pan, fill with water, let sit overnight, and sponge clean. The antistatic agent apparently weakens the bond between the food and the pan while the fabric softening agents soften the baked-on food.

11. It will eliminate odors in wastebaskets. Place a sheet of Bounce at the bottom of the wastebasket.

12. It collects cat hair. Rubbing the area with a sheet of Bounce will magnetically attract all the loose hairs.

13. It eliminates static electricity from Venetian blinds. Wipe the blinds with a sheet of Bounce to prevent dust from resettling.

14. It will wipe up sawdust from drilling or sand papering. A used sheet of Bounce will collect sawdust like a tack cloth.

15. It eliminates odors in dirty laundry. Place an individual sheet of Bounce at the bottom of a laundry bag or hamper.

16. It deodorizes shoes or sneakers. Place a sheet of Bounce in your shoes or sneakers overnight.

17. Golfers: Put a Bounce sheet in your back pocket to keep the bees away.

Okay...homebody geekdom over. I promise something dirty tomorrow.

Friday, February 18, 2005

Not another popularity contest...

I always seem to be either ahead of my time, or 30 years late...which in fashion isn't so bad as old one's always seem to come back. When was your name at the height of popularity?

Just type in your name or any name and see when it was most popular.

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

Beware the Ducks

Swans too. A swan can break a grown man's arm ya know...

But Ducks are the worst!!

I just love some people...

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

We have new pets.

Husband woke early yesterday morning and did whatever it is he does in the mornings (I'm not allowed in the bathroom when he's in there, it's a no share zone) and he kissed us all goodbye (As soon as he gets up both the girls come into the big bed with me, sapping the last of Daddy's warmth from the mattress and blankets) and went off to work.

We got up soon after and went downstairs to find some wrapped presents on the sofa waiting for us. Daddy had bought all of us a Valentines gift, Ain't he sweet.
Alice got some Peek-A-Blocks which she immediately began to chew and slobber on to break them in. Emily and I both began to unwrap our gifts. We each got a Tamagotchi! Mine is purple with pink bubbles, and Emily's is pink and see through so you can see the battery and stuff inside. Our pets are both boys (must be funny boys living in pink and purple houses no?) and we've named them Sammy and Bubba. They have infrared connections so they can jump into each other's house to play, they give gifts to each other (My one is quite naughty and keeps giving poops as presents...which he must be disciplined for!) And, they can breed! how I have yet to witness this, and they are both boys, but evidently, if your pet doesn't breed, a wee old lady "matchmaker" comes on the screen and finds a mate for your pet. They then have's all so weird!

The only bummer is that all Tamagotchi are banned from school. Well, no that's not the bummer, the bummer bit is that I have to babysit Emily's one all day, and hand it back to her when I pick her up from school.

I'm still wondering what Tamagotchi sex is gonna look like...and really, should my five year old be witnessing it?

Saturday, February 12, 2005

Invasion of the Tasteless!!

In the wee small hours of the morning what do I hear, other than the wailing of the baby; but the love call of the local Chavs. I couldn't hear exactly what they were shouting about, but swearing was dominant in the diatribe. He was wearing a navy and white Diadora track suit, with co-ordinating baseball cap, she was in denim miniskirt, a couple strappy tanktops, satin jacket hanging off her shoulders and ridiculously high white heeled the cold February rain. She was gesticulating with a bottle of what I would assume was cider or other £3.00 bottle of cheap liquor and he was trying to snatch was a funny game of Keep-Away. They embraced, she fought, she gave in, she fought him off again, he called her a few dirty words and they then continued on, away out of my sight.

*Heavy Sigh* We moved to the suburbs to get away from this sort of nocturnal invasion. They are an infestation of bad taste and manners. I'm not a prude, but really they are an outrageous phenomenon. They are ridiculed on television regularly, they are featured on cheesey talk shows daily; but I cannot find the attraction to joining this nationwide clique of Trash.

If you want to see what I'm going on about, Here's a website that illustrates it all perfectly:

I had fun naming my Chav baby...Morgan Jordan (that's a girl baby BTW)

There's this Chav car on auction at eBay...(It's since been removed from eBay..the bloke crashed it)

I'm sure only a handful of readers will know what a Chav is (Hi Fish!) as I struggle to come up with a USA comparison so you can understand the feelings of dread that follow upon seeing them ( they never seem to travel alone), I used to have to suffer them daily when I worked at Baby Gap, they were the most prolific and persistent shop lifters I ever saw, they even train the wee kids to steal for them!

Anyways...I share my frustration.
I may be a snob, and judge them harshly...but the fuckers keep waking me up, and sleep is precious to me these days.

Thursday, February 10, 2005


Originally uploaded by Lyvvie.
I passed my theory test today! *HooRay*

So now I'll be allowed to spend another £20.00 to take the driving test.

I definitely hate driving a stick shift. It feels archaic and not all, cool race driver-like. I shall commence my moaning, groaning and wrathful bitching until Husband gives me control of the Saab, which is a blissful automatic.

I'm stuck with this for now

Whoa Baby!!

Follow the link to see some examples of excellent melons....

I tell you, I was impressed and made to feel inferior all at the same time.

just like High school.

Tuesday, February 08, 2005

Tuesday morning with PsychoSal

I wasn't able to chat with my pal Sal yesterday because she was pulling a sickie. She does this quite often, but she wasn't really sick, she was nursing a hangover. We all know of someone who has phoned in on the Monday, after much rejoicing, and faked a cough, flu or violent diarrhea. Once in a while this is probably acceptable, and to most companies; expected, but Sal is different.

This is Sal's second sickie so far this year, so one sick day per month so far. The first one was on the first work day after New Year...she just needed one more day to recover. Last year she was off sick for 104 days in total. Yes that's correct, 104 days, all within the company's rules and regulations. In our work, you are allowed four days off sick no questions asked, on the fifth occasion you get put on an "action contract" which means the company "Is concerned that repeated illness may be caused my excessive workloads and we want to help you manage your health for both your benefit and the benefit of the company." Really, they just want to be sure you know they're watching you so there's no more messing about. Any further days off due to illness will require a sick note from your doctor, so unless you have a dodgy Doc, you're a bit stuffed. After so many weeks absence free, you are removed from your action contract, and get your four days of free-for-all back.

Sal, has an excellent Dodgy Doc. Here's a list of some of the ailments Sal was written off with: stomach microbes causing illness (she had the runs after too much drink), candida (yeast infection), unexplained contagious rash(ringworm we think), lice (valid, no one wants to get that...and she caught it from her son), sprained ankle (from stage diving in high heels), broken ankle (falling down stairs while drunk 10 hours after getting sprained ankle strappings removed), abscess tooth, stress (on three occasions, one I know for a fact one was because she did a very horrible home hair-dye job and couldn't get an appointment to fix it for a week), and the flu (she just needed to be home for the gas man).

A quick look at the math if you don't mind:

52 weeks in a year times 5 days per week = 260 days of work.

We have to work one Saturday per quarter so add 4 = 264.
We get 5 weeks paid holiday so 264 - 25 = 239
We get 13 public holidays so 239 - 13 = 226
Sal was off for 104 days so 226 - 104 = 122

So, Sal worked for 122 days for all of 2004. Since she had legitimate doctor's notes for all absences, the company is unable to fire her or bring her up for any disciplinary actions, plus, she still managed to meet all her targets.

She's a charmed and cursed individual all at once, and yet she fascinates me. She's got one kick-ass guardian angel.

Monday, February 07, 2005

A Modern Day Hero for a little girl?

It has been a constant struggle to buy toys for our eldest, Emily, since she was a baby. She is a super smart, highly imaginative, gender confused kid. She has often told me she is a boy. She refuses to wear dresses, and she has hardly any "girl toys", well, a large assortment of stuffed animals, but nothing overly girlie. My husband and I want her to be a proper little girl, but within her own limits. I can't put her hair in cute ponytails, I can't get her in patent leather shoes; she is a blue jeans and sneakers kid, and there's nothing wrong with that. I have no problems with a tomboy daughter, I prefer it this way honestly. Starting school this year has helped with her gender identification and she's starting to wear more pink at her own request (Whew!).

I keep thinking the problem could be helped by having some Women Heroes to idolize. She loves super heroes and the whole affair with having super powers, of being special and different. She craves being extraordinary and There's an a lot of Women to choose from: Wonder Woman in the Justice League, Batgirl, Power Puff Girls, Totally Spies, a couple girlie Power Rangers, Xena Warrior Princess and so on. Barbie is greeted with a "Yuck!" as she's not really a hero, she can't fly or fight but she does like Bratz ("Yuck!", I say they're obscene. All lip enhanced trout pout and way too much make-up. It's just training little girls to be obnoxious teenagers. All the girls at her school adore them. I'm terrified.) The problem is, where do you get the toys for her to play with?? Going into the local Toys-R-Us yields nothing, ditto for Asda (our version of WalMart), and Woolworths pulls a nil point too. I've come to fear the "pink isles" because they have nothing but baby dolls (motherhood training; and we wonder why teenage pregnancy is out of control.) Bratz, Barbie and her ilk.

My poor little girl...heroless, except for me, and I can't fly.

The thing about hero toys is what makes them super is the imagination of the child. The more they are played with the more they grow as a hero figure in their mind. But there's a major shortfall in availability in feminine action hero toys. She has Spiderman pajamas, and giant growling Hulk Hands and Beast Boy action figure. I would love to get her Wonder Woman pajamas, but they can't be found...not for children anyways (ahem!). Even an action figure would be nice but again, the choices are slim and tend to be in the area of "collectible" as opposed to toy (A Wonder Woman or Batgirl Barbie goes for $17.00 and I know the exchange rate is in my favor but
Really! ). She does have a Blue Power Ranger with light up boobs, but it's quite small...not really adequate for full on action figure play. We could find an assortment of Teen Titans including the girls, but they were only 3.5inches and just too dinky for proper super hero fun. Even a pair of underoo's (do they still make those?) would be fantastic. I can't figure out if there's none in-store because they've been bought up and sold out, or, if they just don't bother to stock them. I have to resort to Ebay, which is just a lottery for quality and I still feel I'm paying too much for just a doll.

That's not true. They're not just a doll, They're a friend. A Hero. A confidant and a role model. Why can't little girls have a Hero in their pocket, all their very own?

I discovered a "Man secret"

I woke up nice and early on Sunday morning rearing to go. It was beautiful and sunny and almost warm, about 46 degrees and my job that morning was to wash and detail the car. I'm sure plenty of folks groan at the thought, but I love washing the car, it's great fun. Warm soapy water over red gloss paint that shimmers in the sunlight, the clean smell of turtle wax, soapy bubbles casting a thousand rainbows in my driveway, and no kids...I decided it was too cold for them to join in, so they watched television with their Dad.

I washed the car on Friday, but we had run out of wax, so I had to wash it again on Sunday after buying more supplies. Two coats of wax on the whole car...and I would've done a third but it started to rain. I put silicone on all the trims, paying extra attention to the rubber bits because they need a little more attention than the plastic bits; the car looked hot, well, as hot as a '96 Saab 9000 can do.

What I have found is this: Turtle wax in a spray bottle makes your fingernails really really strong! I never got this with the wipe on, wipe off stuff because your nails don't come in contact as much, but the spray on stuff...whole new experience!! I'm going to incorporate this into my regular manicures. Apply, buff and freakin easy!

I can only assume that this is why if a man clips his fingernails, you nearly lose an eye on the ricochet...they've known the secret of the Turtle Wax Hand Job for years...but now I share this with all women.

I wanna be in Cape Cod!!

What a year to be away...not only do the Red Sox win the World Series, but the Patriots win the SuperBowl for the third time in four years. I'm missing all those cool parties..I tell ya, the Six Nations Rugby is nice...but it doesn't kick ass in the same way...especially since Scotland always loses. It's quite humiliating really.

this is what we get...

yay...go team *wave banner* *nod off to sleep*

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

Aha! And Oh No!

It seems that on Monday when I took the baby to her playgroup (really only the Moms play with the toys, the kids just drool and grin obligingly) she must have sucked on some germ ridden toy and caught a cold. She has a fever of 101.2, but she still smiles and wants to play. Good note though, I got five hours of sleep last night; Wey Hey!!

I was feeling pretty good this morning, so I hopped into the shower for a scrub and polish with some pretty scented soap from Crabtree and Evelyn. The water was hot, the room was steamy and I grabbed up my plastic net scrubby puff thing and worked up a great big patchouli scented lather. A quick look at the baby monitor showed all was still quiet so I scrubbed again and washed my hair. Rinsed off and turned off the water. As I was putting away the net puff thing I noticed a black hair in it. I tried to pull it out but it just broke. I tried to pull it out again and it broke again. I looked closer and realized, to my horror, that it wasn't a black hair, but the corpse of a black spider. I had just been pulling off its legs. EEWww!!!
I then realized I had just washed my whole body with this bug. EEewwww!!!

I threw the puff away, and jumped right back into the shower. The baby was starting to wake but she was just going to have to wait a few more minutes while I washed away any residual spider guts from my person.

I still feel dirty.

Tuesday, February 01, 2005

No time to watch an epic film?

Sum up Lord of the Rings in under a minute!

Would've saved me a small fortune between going to the theatre and then buying the DVD's.


The baby wont sleep.
I'm not sure, but I think it's her teeth.
Every three hours she wakes me up, screaming fits that rip the quiet.
I've all ready cut caffeine from my diet.
She's not hungry.
She's not dirty.
She's not needing her soother or her cuddly toy.
Offer her a bottle and a fit ensues, as only Mommy's milk will do.
She's not too hot.
She's not too cold.
She's just an unbearable eight month old.