Beautiful day today. Got a call at 7am from Beki (7am! What sort of time is that?!) and we headed to the park for the morning with the children. We have quite a brood, 4 between us. Ruby and Darby kept scootering off to distant trees where they whispered and laughed about what I don't know considering they can't really speak properly.
They play funny games those two. Cuddles and kisses followed by pushes and shoves. Very odd.
I've been ebaying this evening and clearing. Another 3 bags for the charity shop (that's 6 this week! - where is this stuff coming from?) Slowly slowly the room Gwyn and I use for our 'office' is looking freer and freer. Which is fantastic news considering we are pretty much going to put the place on the market in a couple of weeks! gggrrrr..... why did I not do this earlier. Tired I guess.
George answered my prayers and slept from 11.30pm last night until 6.30am. The answer? having him in bed with me with his arms wrapped round my neck snoring at full volume.
Working on a dressing up box for Ruby... I made a tutu yesterday for her. Needs finishing with a ribbon sash....
Looks great on....
Not so great off....
Of course she 'don't like it actually' so it's only been on for a couple of minutes.
She'll come round....
Got some new feet for my sewing machine in the post today. Going to try a bit of freestyle machine embroidery. I never thought something like this could make me this happy!
Phew - George was handed the baton from Ruby last week and although he doesn't have the stomach bug, both his eyes are practically glued shut, he can't breathe properly and he's feeding every couple of hours and refusing solids. Yes - that means I've been up every couple of hours for days. It was pretty desperate over the weekend. I'm now existing on licquorice allsorts and the hope that visualising a wall which I climb over rather than hit will enable me to be the mum I want to be...
... Pretty dodgy foundations.
Sleep Georgie sleep.
I struggled with this. I struggled making the binding, getting it on...
Now I have a bias binding foot on order and am in posession of a bias tape maker....
If only I'd known about them before I started out!!
That's the thing I find the most frustrating about sewing. None of the books seem to give the whole picture - it's a big learning curve but when you finally master something then it's very very satisfying!
This was a well received gift for Baby Bailey - now I need to make some things for my own little ones!
The momentum for the de-cluttering sort of waned. The last few weeks I have been taking the odd bag of stuff down to the charity shop and clearing through the odd drawer but I have been feeling so wiped I sort of felt frozen when it came to the monumental task of streamlining our possessions.
The sheer amount of new stuff that comes through these doors month by month is just unreal. I try my best to keep purchases to just groceries and essentials but quite a bit else sneaks in as well. I blame the children. It's just so easy to see how your stuff seems to own you when you take into account just how much a little one can accumulate in a matter of months when all they were born with was a smile! The fact is I can't keep up with how much they grow out of, don't need, don't want and I constantly seem to be going out to buy new clothes and shoes that fit and all the rest of it.
Another thing that came through the door is the book above. I've already got clear your clutter by the same author and this book precedes it. In terms of the de-cluttering material in the book they are fairly identical although there is admittedly some new material in 'Clear your clutter'. This also has information on space clearing ceremonies. There's just something about the way that Karen Kingston writes about de-cluttering that makes sense. One thing I struggle with is getting rid of the babies stuff, baby clothes, toys etc... but then I have to remember that if I hang onto this stuff 'just in case' I am sending out the wrong message that I anticipate lack. I have to accept that as and when I need a pair of size 1-2 month jeans for a little boy then I'll just be able to get hold of some. And let's face it the chances are pretty high! I suppose I start getting antsy because I have some weird notion that I am getting rid of memories or that my children's energy is imbued in items. The way I've compromised is to allow myself to keep one or two baby items for future generations maybe and then the rest of the memories are on a jpeg.
The other hurdle is wanting some return from getting rid of some things that are in perfect condition. This means ebaying. But ebaying requires time so the other thing I am having to commit to is spending an hour or so a day in front of a screen listing. Having said that in the last couple of days I ebayed a fair bit of stuff so once you start you see results. As soon as the listing ends and it doesn't sell then it goes straight to the charity shop. No hanging around.
I really seem to be sensitive to clutter. I believe pretty much everyone is. It makes me feel muddled, sluggish and anxious. You may think I sound like a nut but I 'feel' it. To read in this book that someone else has the same experience (although it sounds like her perception is extremely finely tuned in comparison to what I experience) was a bit revelatory.
The mission continues. As the space gets bigger I anticipate much more energy and more time.It does feel great when you've had a good clear out.
That is, if I get more than 3 hours sleep at a time ever. I'm not joking I haven't had more than 3 hours sleep in one go for weeks. A typical night sees me going to bed at 10.30 up at 1.30, up for an hour, asleep for 2/3 hours, up for an hour, asleep for 2/3 hours.
And for some inexplicable reason - mothers you too will be aware of this rule, if I go to bed earlier, they wake earlier, if I've gone out for the evening the toddler is guaranteed to wake up at some point in the night and if George continues to sleep on any other night, guaranteed I hear Ruby over the monitor wailing. I have no idea how they do it. I should be impressed.
Here's the thing - I like the idea of reviewing products on your blog. Stuff you buy that you like you can maybe do a little plug just out of the goodness of your heart, sharing your finds, it's a great way of discovering. Stuff that is useful - well that's good too. Many mummys are getting quite a bit of stuff in general that they are then asked to review (reebok easi-tones! Let me review! Please!) I definitely don't think reviewing is my sites primary focus but as a mummy and with small children keen to try out new things I thought I'd jump on the bandwagon, why not, and what is the first review?...
Play doh Fun Factory (ahem)But I don't mean it disparagingly. This came in the post and I was instantly transported back to my childhood days because I can remember having one of these. Ruby of course found it hiding in the spare bedroom when it was raining outside. I was hoping to make the dinner and within minutes of opening it she was absorbed. Totally absorbed. Aside from calling it 'paedo' as in "Mummy can I play with the paedo please" (she's had a few raised eyebrows from Gwyn and I for that) it is such a brilliant toy for her age.
The only thing I would say that's negative (this has pretty much entertained her completely when I'm in the kitchen so on the whole I really like it) is only let your child play with it when you have a tiled surface as a floor. This stuff would murder a carpet. It is also absolutely disgusting when it is wet. You will have it on your slippers, on their clothes and it's the type of stuff that just when you think you have cleaned it all up you find more. Another downside is the tubs that come with it are too small to produce a satisfying tube of shaped playdough. The idea is obviously to buy more of the tubs but otherwise see here for a homemade playdough recipe to remedy this.
Despite saying 'it smells funny' (she's right it does!) Ruby will be playing with this for months to come I would imagine. George will get a good go when he's old enough. As a present or a gift for a toddler its perfect - it retails at around the £8.00 mark and is good value for money when you consider just how long they end up playing with it. All in all a good buy.
I've got quite a few childrens products around the flat that I may blog about in the months to come. If somethings good and useful or beautiful I think it's worth sharing.
I had rather naively assumed that because I had made an appointment with the homeopath for my hayfever that I would simply go to see her, tell her I had headaches and hayfever and then she would fashion me a herbal remedy with a pestle and mortar, mixing herbs and organic honey or something.
That is because I am a bit ignorant (read: very ignorant) of alternative therapy generally. I was swayed into trying it because it's on my doorstep and it sounds natural and intriguing. And I was intrigued once I got into the appointment, slightly baffled when I left and full on fascinated after receiving my prescription.
Perhaps I am foolhardy to simply book an appointment that costs £65 and not even balk at the prospect of shelling out for something I so obviously didn't understand but that is because last week I was desperate. I would have signed up for anything.
I didn't realise that the holistic approach of homeopathy would be an attempt to rebalance the whole of me. I tried to explain it to Gwyn - I am desperately hopeless at explaining things. Leave that to the experts. But I'm game to try it... just like everyone I have my demons, personality traits and physical health that hold me back from achieving my potential.
My prescription: carcinosin and lycopodium - Having looked at various websites about the personalities and physical characteristics of people who are prescribed these I can see that I display more than a fair few of them. I can also completely understand that a sceptic would say they could be construed as very general and applicable to anyone... that and carcinosin is derived from cancerous tissue. wtf???!! Time will tell - I began taking my prescription on Saturday. I've really enjoyed the last couple of days. I definitely haven't felt as anxious. I have made a formal representation to the council today against a license that would affect me (a venue open until 6am every Friday and Saturday - argh!) and been in touch with my MP, Mayor and councillors. In any similar experience over the last few years I would have been super anxious about this for days and wouldn't have left it until this afternoon to write the emails I would have had to do them on Saturday night - no matter that the post wouldn't go and they wouldn't receive them and then I'd have had a few sleepless nights... I'm not kidding, I fixate on things I ultimately have to let pan out. This time I just feel good in myself that I have done what I can. I'm not fretting as I would usually. Is it the effect of homeopathy?? I don't know.
And it can't be entirely coincidental that the calcium carbonate I was prescribed for George's constipation has meant he has resumed his sleep pattern and only waking up the once. Granted it's at 5 but this has been consistent the last two days since he took the tablets. Bearing in mind I've had a week and a half of him constantly getting up so I am eternally grateful.
Have you or someone you know had any experience of homeopathy?
It may well be the world cup, eagerly anticipated by half the globe but I have fathers day gifts to organise and I think if I'm lucky I will finally be able to get my hands on my sewing machine!
Thanks for your comments yesterday. I'm just a bit tired is all - goes with the territory and will probably completely different in a few weeks. Let the games commence and photos of a finished bib tomorrow I hope.
I've just been so wiped out this last week I've had no time to post in the afternoons or evening. Afternoons are strictly for napping - evenings for doing the bare minimum housework and going to bed early otherwise I feel close to falling apart. Saturday night after a day of feeling quite desperate with another headache I had the children and myself in bed with the lights off by quarter to seven!
This week has not been the week for beating myself up about not doing enough. I've had to talk myself round that it's ok to have to have time out because without feeling physically up to life you can't do anything properly anyway. That's not to say there hasn't been quite a bit of internal berating but I'm definitely countering it with positive thoughts that this feeling will only last a short time. George's sleep will fall into a rhythm again, these headaches will abate - I just have to trust and treat myself well and so there are no complaints really, everything is otherwise pretty good!
The doctor reckons that I have sinusitis brought on by the hayfever and so it's lots of steam for me. I have also been to my first homeopathy session. I'll get a letter and some homeopathic remedies to pick up tomorrow I think. Altogether I found the hour and a half session very therapeutic. Being treated as an individual and asked about all aspects of my life was actually very reassuring. Sure, it's not entirely a comfortable experience if you are being truthful about who you are and how you behave as a person; for example I wasn't proud to admit that at times I have a short fuse or particularly easy with having to think and vocalise about what makes me feel insecure. The whole session though did affirm my belief that you as long as you are aware of your shortcomings you can work to improve yourself. You're never done on that journey...
We'll see how much better I feel! Another bonus is the homeopath will have something for George to rid him of his constipation. I began weaning him in the last couple of weeks and he is waking up at 2 in the morning with such a bad tummy he can't get back to sleep. It is really wearing Gwyn and I out. Time to try something else besides pureed fruit.
Alternative therapies are something I have generally in the past considered a luxury I can't really afford but I think that I'm going to be investing in myself some more over the coming months. What little time out from being a mother that I can take I would rather use to be working on myself. Clear out some of that 'emotional clutter' as Karen Kingston would say.
Gwyn and I got date night yesterday and we went to the movies to see Robin Hood which I wasn't completely taken with but enjoyed nonetheless. I don't think I'd ever watch it again but it was so good to go to the cinema - we hadn't been together for over 2 years! Time was when we had an unlimited cinema pass and we were there at least once a week. But like I keep getting reminded recently: Times change. Having to organise a babysitter doesn't half make you savour what others take for granted as an ordinary experience I can tell you.
There have been a few times in the last few weeks where I've just had that brilliant feeling kind and connecting acts have in our lives. Sitting in the grounds of Bodiam Castle the other week on our holiday I basically got the dry heaves going up the spiral staircase with George attached to me. OK, I'm exagerrating about the dry heaves but I was super nervous and very close to hyperventilating. Scared me too much that I might fall down them.
Anyway I digress. I came down from the stairs. Whilst waiting in the middle of the castle for Gwyn to come down from taking pictures I began talking to two 'older' people (Heather and Geoff) after she commented on my bonny baby (she's right - he is bonny). You know - you chat - she mentioned she lived in Brighton - I mentioned we will live there soon, said my nana lived there... the net closed. Her best friend lived in the same block as nana (see above of the beautiful lady with her great grandson) and she lived around the corner. Geoff lived opposite my cousin they both know her as she is friends with Heather's grand-daughter. A little later after alot of talking they took us for a coffee and an icecream for Ruby and we got to enjoy their company a little longer.
In the grounds Geoff took a picture of us and today Heather popped over to my nanas. I don't know how she remembered the flat number from our discussions as I only mentioned it the once but she buzzed, gave her name and said to nana she had a photograph for her. Nana said she better come up then (not knowing what the photo was of) and Heather reiterated - 'you don't know me' and in the typical style of my nana she said 'well if I don't like the look of your face I won't let you in!' and was given a photograph of my little family. How sweet? Apparently the visit lasted about an hour and in that hour Heather said she had heard about my nana and papa from her friend that used to live there and had been told that papa was the loveliest man ever. What a beautiful reminder of your love - through the comments of others, careless comments that end up meaning so much. He was a gentleman - the ladies loved him for his manners and consideration - a lovely twist to her day I think.
And for my next example.... remember this day. Remember the car scraping? Well I bumped into the lady and her daughter (and granddaughter) after I came back from lunch in the West End and flippantly said to her daughter 'I'll probably bump into you everyday now' and I wasn't far wrong. As she only lives round the corner I have bumped into her so many times and we went on our first mummy date on Tuesday (I'd forgotten about mummy dates - I had loads with Ruby - this is the first with George) her daughter is pretty much the same age as George and I am so glad I scraped that car as she is lovely! I saw her yesterday and today just passing by our building and it's nice to have another familiar face in the area. All that weeping and gnashing of teeth that went on about that day and I have maybe got a new friend - and the hire car company never picked up on the scrape either....ssssswwweeeeet.
And how is this for an act of kindness? Walking to Mapledene (or 'Muccadene') childrens centre yesterday Ruby fell over not once but twice whilst pushing her buggy and scraped off both her knees. First time I've seen her bleed. I felt awful for her - they were really sore. We walked past another older couple who were trimming their hedge in the glorious sunshine. The old man said hello to Ruby and in the way that children engage the older generations she showed him her 'sore knee' and it wasn't long before the tcp was out - the plasters and he had brought out a small stool for her to sit on.
My heart leapt.
Today, I am living through hayfever hell. With being a breastfeeding mother I can't take anything and to be honest nothing has ever worked very well for me anyway. The cracker headache I'm sure is from hayfever - it still hasn't abated since Monday - much duller but still there. Got an appointment at the homeopath for next week but I am seriously wondering how I will cope the next week. I feel like I am living the worlds worst hangover/cold. My head is foggy, I can't concentrate, I'm on a ridiculously short fuse and I feel as though I have cotton wool packed in my brain with such enormous pressure that I've got this horrible headache. From the moment I wake up until 9pm I am literally sneezing every couple of minutes. It's miserable. We've got some manuka honey as there is no locally produced honey nearby that I know of in production. Any other suggestions?????
Lucky guys... two posts in one day.
About 5 this evening making the spaghetti bolognaise I started to feel a throbbing in my left leg. I had a look after a bit and one of my veins was very....prominent. Blek. Like a twit I called NHS direct. All the ridiculous questions about whether I have a temperature etc... and then finally 'Any headaches?' "Yes! - Yes! I have a headache I couldn't get out of bed yesterday."
'Might be viral' said the nurse - 'You need to see a doctor this evening'.
What? In the middle of dinner time? With no car (failed MOT last week) and no Gwyn. Terrible timing! Of course I call the doctor and the receptionist says the doctor will call me back so what am I supposed to do? Sit with my leg elevated? Do nothing? I feed Ruby and get the children in the bath which is when of course the doctor calls back. 'I really should see you' she says having gone through the requisite questions and not being fully satisfied she can just ask me to make an appointment for tomorrow. The doors to the doctors close in 20 minutes. I have two naked babes and I have to arrange childcare and get to the doctors. Fan f'ing tastic.
I did it. (Of course) I am a mummy - the urgency and the fear of thrombosis or feeling worse tomorrow made me up my game and call on my cousin. Lucky me. God I am a hypochondriac.
Just to tie this bit of the story up - I just have the mother of all headaches and a varicose vein on the way, time to rest up and take it easy.... blah blah blah blah. Nothing serious or deadly.
But it was the bit in the waiting room that has cracked me up. I knew knew knew when I saw him that he'd start talking to me. I've seen him in the post office before, mad as a box of frogs but harmless. You know the type, look like they need a good scrub, a bit smelly and unkempt - very sweet, very well intentioned but just not entirely on the money when it comes to socially acceptable small talk.
'Bet you wish you were that small' he said gesturing to George... and he took a few steps towards us.
'Bet you wish you could just be carried around.'
'I suppose so' - and so he came closer.
'When you're little you just want to get big - you want the freedom'
I really tried not to engage him because of the cracker headache but it's not good form to be rude and he's not scary crazy. Just different. And completely unable to leave harassed tired people alone. I carried on smiling.
I knew things were going to take a weird turn when the next sentence was '29 and still no girlfriend' - I sort of pursed my lips and exhaled sympathetically. 'The last girlfriend I had...well...I was a gardener...(he started to shake his head) and they caught her having sex with another man in a public toilet!' Oh dear Lord I thought. Please get him to stop. Everyone in the waiting room was sort of shifting around in their seats trying not to look as though they were listening....
'It's always been the same for me - I can never meet a nice girl'
'They're either engaged, married or got a boyfriend.' At this point bringing George with me no longer seemed like such an inconvenience, more like a good reason for me to be very very unavailable. 'Or you think they're 19,20,21 and they turn out to be 13!' Oh my God! Get him to stop! Stop! My head hurts! Finally finally the talk of girls abated and changed just as quickly.
'Bet you wish you could win the lottery'
'What would you do if you won?'
'Pay everyone's mortgage.'
'Really? You wouldn't spend any on yourself?'
'Well of course, but it's more important everyone's got somewhere to live.'
'I'd spend it on star trek and Harry Potter'
He then preceded to tell me each and every bit of star trek and harry potter memborabilia he owned and talked to me in kling on. Really. 15 minutes of my waiting time at the doctors was spent listening to someone talk at me in klingon with a headache.
And all that to be told I need to take a paracetemol and my legs are getting old which means getting my legs out may soon be a thing of the past.
Oh I lament. For short skirts and real booze created headaches.