11 Mar 2011
in Bedraggled Mum, Slightly Insane Tags: Blog, Husband, Mommy, Mother, Tired, Zombie
This is hilarious.
Boy I have been invisible of late. It’s amazing how busy things have been and how quickly I’ve come to neglect poor Saffa. You see, I have just launched another webiste and it has taken up all of my free time. The Canny Crafter is my little baby and it needs lots of TLC. Still massively in development, this site is my dream come true.
You know, one of those things that you think of and think of until one day you go, “If I don’t do this now I am going to have to take my head off and leave it somewhere.”
So off I went and did it. Boy is it scary. Scaaaaaary. I have a massively loud negative internal voice. Actually, if any of you know of a way of switching the bugger off, let me know. The voice says things like, “Rubbish” and “Pah” – a lot. Stupid voice.
I also need to thank (as if this is some kind of insane Oscar speech by a deranged lunatic) The Husband for his patience and help, and The Person for HER patience and help. I have always said that the two of them are like brother and sister from another mother, and the help they have given me (as well as the rolling of eyes) has proven that quite thoroughly.
Why the Invisible Mother? Because I am shattered. My poor offspring is spending a lot of time with a zombie. I even drool slightly. Yesterday I fell asleep on my keyboard. My computer (thanks Windows. Not…) rebooted thanks to updates and while I was waiting for it to restart itself I fell asleep. How sad is that.
So, here’s to your weekend! May it be full and fluffy and lovely. Mine is going to be about a wedding! C and K are getting married (they sound like a designer brand advert, snort) and The Husband and I are their photographers.
Yes, I also think they are NUTS for choosing me, but hey…
We are off to Bath for three days of shooting, bonding, chatting and laughing. And celebrating the marriage of two amazing humans. Wahoo!!!
I promise to update here more often, and to try and be more entertaining. Promise.
23 Feb 2011
in Bedraggled Mum Tags: Spam, Tired
Yesterday I discovered that spam is a useful tool.
Two weeks ago, just before Valentine’s Day, I bought The Husband a Groupon gift as part of his Valentine’s Day package. Then, when the voucher arrived in my inbox, I realised that I’d bought him a hot stone massage in Aberdeen.
That’s about an 11 hour drive from here. Er, not quite the luxury voucher I’d planned. I still have no idea how I’ve ended up getting Groupon alerts from Edinburgh…
I decide to give Groupon a call to see if there is any way of fixing this. Phone rings. Ten minutes later phone is still ringing. This is just peachy as I have it on speaker phone and I’m working away beside it. A woman’s voice comes on, “I’m sorry but due to a high call demand all our operators are currently busy. Please call again later or email us on xyz.” (or thereabouts, I didn’t memorise the call)
Then the phone hangs up on me.
I think, “OK, I’ll email xyz!”
Two days go past, three days. Calling still yields the same results. Email continues to be ignored. My blood pressure gently sloshes at Red Alert.
Yesterday I finally cracked. After three futile calls I decided to use the Spam Method. I sent Groupon an email every five minutes for about an hour.
I got quite inventive with their headings too…
By 2pm I was reimbursed.
31 Oct 2010
in Bedraggled Mum, Saffa Tags: Child, Guilt, Husband, Knitting, Mommy, Mother, Saffa, South Africa, Squidge, Tired, Zombie
This whole changing of the clocks thing. Can I just state, for the record, that it bloody kills me? When we change forwards (or is it backwards?) Squidge wakes up at a hideous hour for about two weeks and we stagger around like half-dead zombies of doom.
When we change the clocks backwards (or forwards or sideways) Squidge wakes up at a hideous hour for about two weeks and we stagger around like half dead zombies of doom. Good thing today is Halloween, people will think I am wearing make-up.
See the pattern here? It’s not that I MIND being an exhausted parent, you know. It’s a badge of honour! The bigger the luggage under your eyes, the more hardcore a mum you are. Dammit.
It’s the fact that I have no control over this deranged fiddling about with time. In South Africa the clocks remain niiiice and steady. No mad evil genius twiddling about with dials and controlling time stuff there. Just nice and quiet ticking (sorry) along, year in and year out.
Then I moved here, had a kid, and got confused as to which time zone I was in.
Today was spectacularly mad. The Husband has ambled off to a three day bachelor party in a canal barge on a river somewhere. Alone, I waft about the hallways of the home in a white gown, sobbing. Actually, I’m wearing stripy pants that I LOVE (see pic above) and a white t-shirt and am not so much sobbing as crocheting…
I forgot about the clocks. I did. No clue. SO imagine my GUILT when I got annoyed with my offspring for waking me at 5:30am this morning. Only, she didn’t, did she? NO. She woke me at 6:30. A VERY healthy time and not at all bad.
You see, my child never sleeps beyond 6 really. This entire half term of travelling (update post coming soon) she woke me at 4:30/5am every day. For her to have entertained herself for an hour (she did!) and then call me is so good. And I got crabby because I thought it was 6am.
Stupid clocks. Stupid Saffa Mom. Poor little Squidge.
THIS is why Salvador Dali painted those clocks, I’m telling you. His head was done in by this madness.
18 Oct 2010
in Bedraggled Mum, Review Tags: Husband, Review, Tired, Turning 40
I was recently sent a box of Syno-Vital Hyaluronan from Modern Herbals. The name made me giggle too. It sounds so imposing and formal. And faintly terrifying. The PR who sent it to me told me that my post about my face falling off is what did it.
Honestly, I am not really sure how I feel about that. I mean, it’s one thing to confess to a saggy face, it’s another to be offered help because you’re terrifying the natives.
I now have a month’s supply and I’m taking it every morning, before food, for the entire 31 days to see if it has any effects on me. I am quite excited. If this stuff can stop my face falling off, then I’m a subscriber. YES!
Wouldn’t it be nice to say goodbye to the terrifying visage that greeted me after a week of sleep deprivation. Ohhh, yes. I’ll keep you posted.
It does taste weird though. And the Husband calls it “Eye-Juice” because Hyaluronic Acid is found in the vitreous humor (fluid) of the eye.
One can only hope that they aren’t draining eyeballs for this stuff.
19 Aug 2010
in Bedraggled Mum, Parenthood Tags: Mommy, Mother, Squidge, Tired, Work
Today was not a particularly brilliant day. To be fair, I’m never fluffy and joyful when on antibiotics and currently the ones I am on are kicking me up and down the street. Sods. So, in this bedraggled state my mind turned inwards and the usual issues I have with parenthood.
It’s like a sore tooth that I can’t stop poking with my tongue. I am constantly swamped with the fear, no, terror that I am not enough for her. I don’t teach her well enough. Pay her the right attention. Discipline her the right way. And so the list goes on.
If I shout at her it upsets her so much. My stern voice is crap. It sounds like I am yelling, and she says to me, “No, don’t shout at me, mommy,” and then her little face crumples. And so do I. Suddenly it’s ok that she was dancing on the table on the train, because that is so irrelevant compared to her tears.
And yet it’s not.
As mothers we have to be so damn strong. Strong enough to stare those tears in the face and stick to our guns. Caving now means a spoiled child later. We have to know when it’s manipulation, and when it’s the real thing. When we react to something we have milliseconds to determine whether our reactions are valid, or because we’re having a bad day, or because we’re feeling guilty, or because we are tired, or because, because, because.
I have a lot of guilt.
The times I have shouted for no reason and made her cry. I was stressed and exhausted but she shouldn’t suffer because of that. The times I was so distracted by emails/clients and my own issues that I didn’t see her trying to show me a picture she drew for me, or give me a hug. The times I was intolerant of her bad behaviour only to realise that she was actually sick.
The worst was her throwing a monster wibbly in a charity shop, me getting very upset and embarrassed , us going home, and her proceeding to deliver Exorcist style vomit all over the lounge. I spent hours whipping myself for that one.
You see, I want her to feel loved and supported. To know right from wrong. To be proud of herself and her family. To grow up as issue free as possible and to keep her natural happiness in life. As an adult I am a bit of a mess. How the hell am I supposed to do this right?
06 Aug 2010
in Bedraggled Mum Tags: Blog, Tired
Yes! I moved us to a .com domain so I had control over things like plugins and other such magical creatures. At the moment I’m doing a lot of shouting at the screen because nothing seems to be working properly yet, but please do bear with me. I hope you moved along with me today and welcome to my shiny new domain.
04 Aug 2010
in Bedraggled Mum, Slightly Insane Tags: Face, Tired, Turning 40
Today, in a small town by the sea, Tamsin’s face fell off.
“It wasn’t as if she didn’t know this was coming,” said her face, “I’ve been warning her for a while now. I mean, just look at my under-eye wrinkles! What did she expect?”
Tamsin is unavailable for comment but the local newsagent has reported a woman wearing a veil coming in to buy out his stock of coloured paper bags.
“It was very strange,” said Mikhail, “She came in, bought all the coloured bags and then started cutting holes in them. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Boots spokesperson said that their online supplies of anti-ageing cream were sold out at 6am this morning.
“Honestly, some women should just learn to pay more attention to their diet and sleeping habits,” said Emelda Markhurst, 48, “I’ve had sixteen Botox sessions and sleep in a foil mask packed with nutrient rich, collagen injected, anti-wrinkle gel and never leave the house during the day. This is why my face is still intact.”
Tamsin’s friends, Pie and K, are appealing to anyone who’s seen a woman roaming the streets wearing a paper bag to please contact them urgently so they can get her to counselling.
03 Aug 2010
in Fascinating Things, Slightly Insane Tags: Tired, Trains, Work
My time of the commute is nearly at an end and the wide-eyed considerate human that I once was has been replaced by a woman that goes, “Tssk“.
1. No matter how relaxed you are when you get off the train, the tube will get you. I swear, you could have meditated the entire time on the lovely overland train and arrived in a state of blissful calm, and it will be ripped from you the moment you stand up. The wave of “I must get off first, I must walk faster, get out my way, oh for Pete’s sake” will hit you the second you get off the train.
2. Your elbows and bum are weapons of mass destruction. When pushed into a corner by surly men in suits a deft nudge with your elbow (note: I said nudge) can get you room to breathe. If this fails look at man in question with horror in your eyes, catch his eye and then look at his hand and then your bum. He will think he touched it. He will move rapidly away. Use in emergencies only.
3. After three days you will go “tssk“. I’m sorry, but it’s true. Those people who you labelled as rude and unfriendly when you first started commuting to London are now YOU. At first I was astonished by how many people tutted at me under their breath because I just wasn’t fast enough. Today (and yesterday) I tutted myself. I am ashamed.
4. You will sit next to the freaks. On my first day it was Mad Snot Flicking Man who sat next to me and leered at me the entire way home. On my second it was Strange Growths Man who wanted to play footsie under the table. Now, as I approach the train home I think to myself, “Do I sit in the single seats next to the loo and endure the smell, or do I risk it and sit on a normal seat and see who sits beside me?” To be honest, the answer depends on whether or not I’m eating my dinner on the way home. And even then it’s hit and miss…
5. If you are running late everything will stop working. Train tickets demand that you get there on time. Miss your train and you pay again (and out your nose). Usually you need to catch two tubes to get to the rail station. If one tube grinds to a halt because some [insert adjective here] human has pulled the alarm or tried to eat the conductor, the rest will follow suit. Or your next tube will be so full that it should be entered into the Guinness Book of Records.
6. Pretend you can’t see anybody else. I have been stood on, crushed, bumped and elbowed, and that’s just trying to cross the main station to get to the tube. I have noticed that those who escape unscathed are those who just walk and pretend they can’t see anybody else. You either get a briefcase in your eye or you leap out of their way. That said, if you are thin or short, adopt this strategy at your own risk.
7. Rational thought is abandoned in favour of the chase. It’s insane. You can see that the queue to get through the ticket barrier is about 30 people thick in all directions, but there are still people shoving past you to get in front. Why? The queue is just as bad on the other side! It bewilders me. I end up overtaking/catching up with these Furious Flappers five minutes later and my eyes aren’t bulging in fury. They’re cardaic arrests waiting to happen.
8. People are fabulous. You can be forgiven for thinking that I hate everybody on the commute so far, but actually there are some really lovely moments. You can meet new people, have fascinating conversations, and die with delight watching children giggle with their parents on long train journeys.
9. By the time you get to work you need a lie-down. I am filled with admiration for people who do this commute every day, every week, for many years. I am. They need awards and special holiday retreats. When I get to work after my two hour commute I’m almost incapable of coherent thought. The people I’m working with think I’m an idiot. They’re not entirely wrong…
10. You can fit 100 people into a space the size of your toilet. And then you can stop at another station and squeeze in a couple more. And again. And again. Then, when you have an armpit in each eye, an ass on your hand, a handbag exploring your spine and sweat pouring down your face, the tube will stop and a voice will come over the intercom and say, “Sorry for the delay folks but there appears to be a faulty train at the next station and they’re just moving it onto the siding.”
16 Jul 2010
in Bedraggled Mum, Parenthood Tags: Gaming, Mommy, Squidge, Tired, Work
Somedays, like today, I wonder if I’ll ever feel “not tired” again. It’s been a long week and the weekend is as packed with work as the usual days of Mon to Fri. Not that I’m complaining, mind, it’s just that I’m sitting here with a head full of lead and about two hours to have down time and I’m too shattered to decide what I’m going to do!
Oh, the irony! Should I curl up in front of the TV with my knitting and mindlessly absorb fabulous dross while my needles click the shawl into place? If I don’t hurry up this is only going to be ready next winter. Ha!
Do I play Bioshock on my PC because I’m desperate to finish it and really feel like some gaming to wind down tonight?
Or do I finally get some time with my shiny new Xbox 360 and carry on attempting to play Alan Wake?
The thing is. Knitting is ace but I’m not sure my brain can cope. The Xbox 360 is an entirely new FPS control system that I’m rubbish at (snort) and Bioshock makes me jump. Although perhaps I’m just the right level of sleepy to just relax and enjoy the game and ignore the terrifying noises oozing out of my speakers.
It does make me wonder why I get all these scary games when, since having Squidge, I’m now too jumpy to enjoy them. And, what’s that all about anyway? I used to be really good at FPS’ and now I’m a bit rubbish. Not sure if it’s practise or turning into a mom that’s done it.
Well, it’s getting late (time is flying today!) and I’ve decided I’m going to Bioshock myself tonight. Not the world’s most riveting post, I know. But hey, everyone has a down day.