Friday, 28 September 2012

Oh the fame!

On a random, slightly drunk posting I would like to make a wee shout out to  Elizabeth's mum.  It would appear I have a fan.  Yes folk's, (and by folk's I mean anyone not related to me) a real fan.  She live's in Canada and is the mother of a friend of mine.  I now officially love you.  You have made my day. (Well that and finally loosing 20kg of baby weight)....tomorrow.

I feel I must explain.  My idea of a good time these day's is every other Friday I attend a "knit night".  Yes I knit.  In this random group of women who congregate, very little knitting get's done.  "What happens's at knit night, stay's at night night".  We drink wine, eat snack's, judge and generally bitch about out live's.  It is awesome.  It is hosted by my very good friend Pauline (aka. Peter Pan or from now on PP) at her lovely wool shop so aptly named Woool.  It can be found at (yes with 3 ooo's and she has a web shop. (link to follow soon)), on the Westeinde in Den Haag.  Either way it is place of sanctuary every other week to ditch the husband, kid's, dog (in my case) and "do one".  Frankly tonight I couldn't get out of the door fast enough.  Sometime's you just need like minded soul's to shoot the shit with.

Tonight's topic's of conversation included, humping rabbit's and having to explain subsequent emission's on the duvet to tween's and younger, dummy's/Pacifier's down the cleavage, what is a latch key kid and why I only had a long stick and no bloody key (more on that another time) and why PP and I are incapable of making full sentence's at any given time. 

So on that note I am off to bed.  So no fancy photo's just some semi drunk rambling's and a splendid night.  Thank you ladies.

Friday, 21 September 2012

Well hell yes!

I am not a fan of surprise's.  I like a neat organised life that is planned like a son of a bitch.  I think that is one of the reasons why I like this county.  The Dutch are not, on the whole, a spontaneous nation.  They make 'appointments' months in advance for the simplest of get together's.  Seriously I have a lunch appointment scheduled with a friend in October.  I love it.  For my cluttered little brain, this is Nirvana.

On a tangent... I remember in a time before the mobile phone when you knocked on someone's door to see what they were up to and if they could come out to play.  Now you need a full itinerary who, what, where, when, a medical history and full liability insurance.  But I digress....

So, yesterday one of my best friend's called me up out of the blue to say "hey, I was wondering if you are busy tomorrow?  Thought we might drop by and take the Monkey of your hands for a few hours then come back and bring you lunch".  Well let me think about that for a nano second.  Hell yes!  Not only do I get some 'me Time' (take that you bastard, 1-0 to me today) but lunch too.  I feel like such a rebel.  So with that in mind I have thrown myself around my house to clean a bit and ready myself for some guilt free quality Time with my sewing machine.

On a side bar, in a moment of giddy rapture last night and also in honour of my Papa coming this weekend, I have prepared some chocolate chip cookie dough with 3 different nut variation's.  Salted pecan, Salted macadamia and Salted pecan and cashew.  They are chilling as we speak.  Let's hope they are still here when he arrives.  I will post this recipe later with a full how to as this deserve's to be shared with the world.

Lastly, I have finally finished and bound the quilt for my new niece/nephew.  Anne-Grethe if you are reading this stop now.  Here are a few snap's that I couldn't wait to share.

Thursday, 20 September 2012

Monkey Magic.

Are any of you old enough to remember that show?

On the whole she has been a little cutie today.  I kind of needed it as I was feeling a wee bit fragile this morning. I had a tough day yesterday and a migraine last night.  So when I woke up this morning for the 6th or 7th time, and realised it was actually "morning", my little monster was a co-operative as can be.  Not only did she go back to sleep for a few hours after I fed her, (9.30 no less) so I could squeeze in a few more too, but she hasn't played up today.  In fact she has been positively angelic.  Worrying, huh?  I know she is saving up for something good.  So in honour of our civilized day, here are a few phone snaps.

My little cookie monster.

 Gnawing not drinking, but a sterling effort none the less.

Nappy? Hat?  I make this look good.

Musical genius.

The level of attention seeking sluttery from this chap has been stepped up to a new level, bless him.

"I eat your leg".

George and his baby.

George and his baby, being very gentle with mine.  Love this dog.

It was to good to last.

Monday, 17 September 2012

Time! (shake fist with menacing anger)

My apologies for the absence of late, but Time has not been on my side.

I have been hearing a lot about that these last few weeks.  Time.  This mythical substance that flitters away during your day.  You blink, you miss it.  It is the crack of motherhood.  We always need more.

It would appear that I and almost every new mum in the world suffer from a lack of It.  Seriously though, where the hell does It go?  I was told that when you become a mother, hour's become shorter.  I actually laughed at this statement because I have always been so good at managing It (I use a capital "I" and "T"when talking about Time now as he has become somewhat of anthropomorphic character in my life).  

To say that I have am obsession with It would be an understatement.  I have always been a wee bit OCD with my good friend Time, we have this love hate relationship that years of therapy is still trying to uncover.  But then the Monkey leaped into my life and recently she has taken my well managed, organised Time in her teeny chubby little hand, stuck It in her gummy juicy mouth, and thrown him up all over my shirt.  This (not so) tiny being has thrown me under the emotional bus and couldn't care less.

Cleo came into our life with such ease that I took it for granted that she would always be so amenable.  Seriously, never before was there a so chilled.  She slept so well, she ate, she did all the things babies do to a schedule of her own making.  The control freak in me tip toed a little happy dance of joy.  I would see this harried looking parent's with a struggling infant and feel... well, smug.  I now want to go back and apologise to every woman or man out there, in person, on bended knee.  God I was naive.  This sweet little minx lulled me into a false sense of security.  With nary a word of warning she became 'aware'.  I am lucky if I can grab a few minutes in the day for me.

A few weeks ago I had a bit of a melt down.  My pain levels were through the roof and the fear that it wouldn't get any better was paralysing. Off I limped to the doctor to be told that I was stressed, I needed to take some Time for myself.  I think I may have actually pee'd a bit with laughter.  "Is this covered in my health insurance"? I asked glibly.  She looked quizzically at me and missing my sarcasm totally replied, "well surely you must be able to find an hour or two in the day to yourself?  Nap time"?  I wanted to throw my head back and laugh like a Banshee.  In the precious "nap time" every mother I know, runs around her house like a lunatic trying to get everything done before their little bundle of Time sucking joy wakes up and demands to be entertained.  "Well come back in two week's and we'll see how you are doing"  My jaw dropped.  It was at this point I started to seriously wonder about our medical professionals.  Did she seriously think that anything would have changed in two week's? Is there some magic pill out there that can give you those much sought after few hour's?  Is there buggery!

Sadly in the blink of an eye my day has gone.  By 8 o'clock I am looking at Time wondering if it is to early to go to bed. Time sit's in the corner of my living room and mock's me, he steal's precious hours from me so that when the Monkey bed battle has been fought I have no more energy or will power to carry on.  Time, I have come to realise is not the well managed friend of old, he is now a total bastard.  That said, I have decided to stop fighting him head on because so far Time is kicking my ass.  Instead, I am regrouping, learning, improvising and failing all that am not above some sneaky guerilla trick's to steal back part of my day.  This past week or so, I have desperately tried to grab every spare minute I can.  Monkey needed some new trouser's. Done! Bam, take that Time!  I really wanted to get my niece/nephew's (watch this space) quilt done.  Pow! Here's mud in your eye Time.  Unfortunately, there are also about a million other job's that also needed my attention though.  My new tactic is to take them on one by one.  I will beat you Time.  I will win.  That said, it has taken all day to write this.  Monkey and I are both a bit sick and shockingly she and Time have formed an alliance.  No snazzy photo's today.  Maybe tomorrow.

Saturday, 1 September 2012

Oh the excitement.

I am off for a weekend away from my baby.  I leave in less than an hour with my friend Pauline, to go to Texel with my knitting group.  Yep I go to a knitting group every other Friday.  (I have even been known to knit at said group, but mainly we drink wine, laugh a lot and put the world to rights)  Today also happens to be Monkey's 6 month birthday.

So here is the problem.  Why am I so anxious?  Yes, I am a control freak, but I know Matt will do a splendid job without me.  It won't be the way I do it, (and truthfully that bother's the shit out of me) but I am sure I will come back to a perfectly fine baby, a very tired husband and a judgy dog.  I so desperately need some quality "me" time that I may combust without it.  So why do I feel so guilty?  Is it guilt over leaving my baby on her "birthday"? Guilt over leaving Matt alone with the baby?  Maybe it is because if I am honest, I can't wait to get out the door.  Don't get me wrong I love Matt, Cleo and George more than life itself.  My family is everything to me.  Yet I still have this knot in the pit of my stomach.  I so wanted to go, but the question is can I "let go"?

I procrastinated for ages about this trip, and finally had to force myself to go.  Not because I didn't want to, but more because if I didn't my sanity would crumble into teeny tiny pieces.  For the next 48 hours I will be 3 hours and a boat trip away.  I will try very hard to give myself permission to relax, unwind and do nothing.  Failing that, there is always wine.