Energy Levels are Rising

It's now been almost a week without wheat, and a mostly healthier diet and my energy levels are rising. I can't believe how much better I feel sans stodge, and the absolute best thing is I can avoid wheat, and fat but still eat Coco Pops for breakfast. Wonderful!

I took my daughter to a local playgroup this morning for the first time in six months. It was lovely, now I know more people we enjoyed it far more than the last time we went where no one talked to us for an hour. I even got a sort of warm glowing feeling as I saw how much she enjoyed it, and loved interacting with children of her own age. We'll make it a regular Wednesday morning date from now on.

Then this afternoon, we'll be off playing avon ladies, after a good game of my childhood Lego that is. We went to play with a lovely family yesterday, and they had Playmobil Native Americans! I got all nostalgic for my old teepee, then came home and found it in the loft. I was absolutely delighted to see it again, and the old Lego. Suspect they were my favourite toys, apart from my Sindy's, that is, and Sindy's wardrobe.

Right, off to have a play now, might even let daughter join in.

Dreaming of Pizza

Really, really want some deep pan, full of cheese and bread pizza. But am resisting, and as an alternative ate some dates. They are not the same. Also have taken up knitting as a distraction against chocolate and wheat. Works quite well, but not as filling.

Anyway have productive plan to spend more time individually with the children this week, that will mean they have to learn more, and I will drink less coffee. Sounds good so far, just need to wean all three of us off Mickey Mouse and find some exercise books. Realised it was time to spend more time with Ol today, when he said his favourite things to do were Playstation and Scalectric. Am absolutely not competitive parent, but surely he could have a favourite Mummy thing in his list too? Or perhaps I'm just the boring one who cooks and cleans?

New Shoes Hurt

Bought Ol some little canvas plimsoles yesterday, for running around in and playing football. Have to admit banned shop assistant from showing Ol garish red and shiny silver trainers as one they were twice as pricey and two, I hate them.

Anyhow, we got him a lovely cute little pair of Doodles which he wore home, well in the walk to the car. After about five minutes he said they really hurt him, so we thought the lady must have tied them too tightly, and I said I'd sort them out later. Then he was sort of hopping, going ow, ow, I really like them but they hurt so much.

Later on at home, I put them away, and noticed a drawing pin had gone in one of the soles. Hmm, that explained the ow, and the hopping. Bless him and he still loves them.

Hectic Half Term

Half term is over now, for another six weeks anyway, been very hectic, and we've hardly done anything. I have managed a couple of marathon hill walks though, and given up wheat, all fine until got pizza cravings last night. However got through them by inventing new snack of marmite covered almonds. Would have prefered to have cashews or peanuts, but sadly too much saturated fat in them.

Ooh, and also managed to buy some upholstery tacks yesterday, along with a six pack of beer (hmm, just thought beer contains wheat but only expensive wheat beer so will be fine with Stella). Am planning to re-cover some chairs and a footstool, told a friend this the other day, and she was like oh, I didn't know you made furniture/did that. I replied I was having a bash for the first time, and she laughed! Is that fair? After all, upholstering is actually a skill, and isn't the same as having a go as baking a cake, without being a cook is it?

Never mind, have heaps of optimism, well do after a couple of drinks, in cold light of day think will start with a footstool.

Will blog an update next week.

Working through the crisis....

Right, I've sorted out my wardrobe, and am left with a tiny capsule wardrobe of jeans, and a few tops, plus a few more dressy bits, lovely empty cupboard now.

I've also started a diet and workout regime, nothing too harsh, just combo of low GI/heathfoods, and my old favourite the hip and thigh diet, also went for a walk down the steep hill, through the old town and back almost home, to my friend K's house. Have to admit getting a lift home from hers, and having to stuff my face with a banana the minute I entered her house. Luckily she was very understanding, and was much better than biscuits that I'd usually be tempted with. Just as I typed that, husband came home from Penguin, (for kids honest) and bread run. He said he did not know Penguins were biscuits, and lived in the biscuit aisle hence came back with a multipack of chunky Kit Kat's. They are wrong, too chunky, and too much chocolate for children. Can't understand why he doesn't automatically know where all goods live in local shop. Maybe I just spend too much time hanging there?

Also have inspiring plan to sell lots of odds and ends on e-bay, and then hopefully make enough money to buy a dishwasher. Spent a lovely weekend, with a dishwasher, and almost think it would revolutionise my life. Well almost, least I'd have some more time to write my blog, or play with the children, or just sit about drinking coffee with my friends, yes that's right, the easy life of a stay at home parent.

Crisis Time

I'm currently embroiled in a serious clothes crisis. Nothing I have, seems right, except perhaps one pair of jeans, which are, in fact a little low. This means I have to wear long tops, which aren't very flattering.

I seem to be stuck somewhere between two looks, the slummy mummy uniform of jeans, a top and boots, and some kind of crazy boho look of long skirts, with hoodie tops, and of course, boots. Trouble is I don't like either look, and just can't understand what look I should be going for, as a sort of practical day to day outfit, which is also cool, and makes me look my age, not older, or like I'm trying to be younger.

Even with unlimited funds, which I definitely don't have then still can't work out what to wear. Think a nautical look, like navy jumpers and white trousers, with Converse might be good. Trouble is have no navy jumpers and only white trousers are a bit tight, plus always manage to get coffee/red food on them as soon as they're on.

What to do next? Suspect it might involve spending a whole afternoon with all clothes, and ruthlessly getting rid of ones too small (am definitely not a size 14 or even 12 at the moment, and getting rid of smart work clothes. Pin striped trousers and playgroups don't mix.

Then will have nothing left in wardrobe, and can ruthlessly have one or two outfits that I will live in. Remember my stay at home mummy friend L telling me her husband approached her one day and asked her if her combats were her favourite trousers, as she'd been washing and wearing them for five straight days. She said she then realised they were her only everyday trousers that she could stand.

She went shopping the next week.

Living the Life

We've spent another whole week with one child after the other being sick, am now utterly bored of housework, the house, laundry, television, DVD's that we own (particularly Bratz baby's, why why why), lunch, oh and the sick bucket.

Not sure why they seem to be sick so much, 'praps its something we are doing, wonder if I don't get rid of dust balls enough, or dry up enough. Also not very good at ironing, C swears by ironing everything super hot to kill any germs, personally am too lazy to iron sheets, unless we have guests, then I suddenly get a bit more domestic. I do wonder about daughter's hideous habit of putting her hand down her nappy, maybe that makes her sick, it is utterly horrible, and it has gone wrong for her, i.e. she has a dirty nappy and has forgotten. Leave the rest for your imagination.

Course it might just be that they're at nursery now so getting all sorts of bugs off other children, and some other children are also sick...or it may be our diet too. Have realised how bad its been since leaving London, we are tending to eat much too much bread and cheese, not enough hummus, fresh vegetables, and soya. Sure its mainly because decent food isn't so readily available, at least not from local stores, and we still have not got organised enough to have enough food for a week in stock. Have decided this is after a monster shop a thon last night at Sainsbury's where I spent too much money, on not even sure what, am going to do a health food shop once a week, then have a weekly organic box of fruit and vegetables and see if that works. Hate the supermarket, and lots of their food, like their quiche's, yuck, their pizza's, and their hummus, need to just make it all ourselves really.

Course now I've come over all tired at the though, have got to make it all when have cleaned the house, dressed and cleaned the children, rang the dentist, done some laundry, found Ol some biscuits, oh and maybe ring my friend to relieve utter tedium of Staying In All Week.

Proud Parents

Absolutely so proud of Ol this week, as he as written his first word, bar his name that it. They've been doing healthy eating at nursery, and Ollie copied the word sweetcorn in to his exercise book, underneath a picture of it. So delighted with him, he of course thinks I'm being a bit over the top, and doesn't want any more praise, just wants to go and play inappropriate playstation game, Crash Burnout 3. Game is a shocker, you have to drive in to road junctions and cause as much damage as you can by crashing your car. You then get dollars for each car you smach up. Course I hate it, but boys love it, and apparantly it's like a sort of bumper cars so its ok?
What happened to hippy mummy me, I want to know? We're supposed to be more wholemeal than computer games. Trouble is when they enjoy something so much, and seem to understand the difference from right and wrong, it does seem mean to stop it.

House of Sickness

Just got called back from nursery, as children sick. On my arrival it was clear daughter was fine, she was shouting don't want you mummy, want stay here but son was clearly peaky, very white and tired looking.
Managed to get them home by pushing both of them in the buggy up a hill, must be good for weight bearing exercise. Then Ol decided he was starving to I made him some toast, he said he also needed a glass of milk to feel better. Twenty minutes later, you guessed it, he sicked it up all over kitchen floor, quite dramatically really. Thankfully now he's asleep on sofa, but moral of this tale, is, don't believe what children tell you. They just don't know!

City Kids

Realised yesterday the that we don't actually live in the country, and that we don't actually have country kids. Went to visit friend's mum's farm yesterday, in the proper country, with ducks, cows, chickens, cats, a dog, a horse and strangely a tortoise. I remember the tortoise was rescued from somewhere and lived in the Aga for a long time. Now it scoots about the kitchen floor, with its distinctive marking of a nail varnish painted back (so it can be found in the garden).
Children were scared of all the animals, daughter particularly alarmed by tortoise, which admittedly did move quickly, and smelly orange cat which kept trying to cuddle up to her. Ol scared of all of them, although pleased to find chicken egg in the garden. He did refuse to eat it, or take it home though, and even hardy country mummy, me, did not like the idea that they are a bit grubby. Also spent some time wondering if they were soft when they came out of the chicken to help it lay them. Country husband friend D, said it was, but Wiltshire K who grew up with said not, they are only soft if Wrong. Could not face asking what Wrong eggs were like, or Wrong Chickens.

Wiltshire K quite practical, even wiped tortoises bottom for him, so would not have been fazed by question. Thought I might not like the answer though, and have still not got over thing my dad told me when I was a child about eggs, which was the white bit, in the yolk was its' chicken spine. If anyone has ever wondered why I can't eat runny eggs that's the reason, also that it might be the chicken's umbilical cord (I think I invented that years ago, but please don't tell me what it really is). Mind you, dad also told me that raisins were really squashed spiders, and I have just about managed to get over that one. Still not too keen on packets that are open though, in case spiders get in, get squashed, then die.

Must be careful not to teach my kids that spiders are Evil, and are waiting to Get Us in scary unexpected way. Instead all creatures are our Friends, even smelly cats, creepy crawlies and painted tortoises that need their bottoms wiping. Will not try and get children to stroke spiders though. They might Get Them.

Wash Day Blues

Went out for girlie night in last night, got back at half past twelve and the washing machine was still going. Lovely husband got up at five thirty and it was still going. Have now deduced that its not daughters fault, she probably does not wake up to put the washing machine on a repeat cycle, although she is quite domestic. Must be broken, strange kind of fault though, to make it keep washing. Poor old machine can't cope with us, got the repair person coming out on Tuesday anyway as it melts itself when on a 90% wash. Worried it would melt children, if they touched the steam, as has managed to melt its own soap dispenser drawer off. And now it can't stop itself. Think possibly, it sees us doing so much housework, and sypathises but gets it all wrong. Wish had normal domestic problems sometimes, like handles breaking, not helpful washing machine.

Water, water bills going up

When we moved in to tattyhouse a little under a year ago, the water board contacted me and told me we were going on to a water meter. I disputed this, as a family of four, by their own estimation it will cost us around twice as much as the rateable system. They said there was nothing they could do, as it was policy to change all houses over to meters when sold.
Just got a bill today for £266. Very cross with them, as its definitely twice as much as it should be! And we're very careful with water, have only used the hose once, and never washed the car (yes, it is a little grubby). Children even share a bath in true 1970;s style, and we have bricks in the toilets. Feel a bit like a toddler having a tantrum, its just not fair! And on top of that, British Gas have decided we owe then £130 for electricity use, as we're leaving them. Apparantly our monthly direct debit was not high enough. It's just not fair! Again, we're quite careful with electricity, though I have to admit to sometimes forgetting to turn out light when we go out. Still, all a bit tough. And am saving up my crossness for the Water Board who I intend to write to when I can get enough Mrs Angry energy up. Water of life indeed, more like Water of Riches, and Gold.

Wet Legs

It rained so hard this morning on the walk to nursery, that children's clothes had to be dried off on the radiators during the morning. On my way home, whilst wearing my lovely Pac a Mac bumped in to the postman. He was cheerful, and called out hello. Even though he must have been soaked. My legs were so wet through by jeans that I was walking like Big Bird. Very impressed by positive postman. Me, I was so miserable in the rain could not crack a smile at him.
Then got home and did housework, how miserable am I?

Damn, wish cheap clothes were better all round

Just back from a trip to the outskirts of Eastbourne. We went in search of socks, which we found, but also some shiny new cheap clothes. Sadly the lustre has gone, along with smoking the fun's been sucked out of cheap shopping. The cheap clothes in Sussex all just look cheap. And they're all for the larger lady or for teeny teens. Plus now we all know about child labour, and fair trade, and there is no way these £3tops will have been ethically produced. Thus, the buzz of a new top goes, and guilt replaces it. Damn, hate guilt.

Must go now and try on all owned spring clothes to try and work out my winter to spring look. Sounds a little obsessive I know but I do love organising, and anyway its not as focused as my old neighbour who used to plan her outfits for the whole season way in advance so she knew what she was missing in her capsule wardrobe. I have not even got a capsule wardrobe, as not keen on things one must wear from it, don't want a raincoat, a white shirt, or black trousers, although some little cute black pumps would be rather handy. Instead of said capsule wardrobe elements I share a childrens size wardrobe with husband, which is mostly full of pyjamas. Do love all of them though, but remember how embarassed I was bumping in to a teacher whilst wearing them so now they're just for indoor use.

What's sewing?

Found my pile of things to be mended yesterday, and made a start on my lovely gold silk skirt. Have added little patches to cover the bits where I tore it. Can't remember how the skirt accident happened but think it was whilst in Essex. Good to blame another county anyway.

Whilst I was sewing it, 2 year old scarily bright daughter came up and asked me what I was doing, told her sewing and she wanted to know what sewing is. How terrible, she's never even seen us sew a button on to have to ask what is is. Felt very bad, and un homemaker ish. However, on the plus side she then produced a favourite knitted toy of mine, called Egg Man. He was made by a Great Auntie, sadly not sure which one, but loved him, and do remember old family dog, Sally also keen on him as he had a broken foot. Course I sympathised with Egg Man, as have own dodgy foot. Anyway repaired him for daughter and she is delighted. Usually I can't mend anything, and refrain when something is broken sort of goes Daddy will fix it. But yea, a strike for women's independence, I can repair knitted Egg Men. Just need to learn how to make them now, oh and probably how to wire a plug and change a tyre. Maybe also where the screwdrivers live (in the scary cupboard somewhere where things like saws fall on your head) so I can change batteries. Second thoughts, maybe its better not to know. Never hurt the children waiting for toys to have new batteries, or amusing selves when talking toys go slow.