have just spent 45 mins writing blog only for computer to crash.
have such bad PMT could sob as a result.
and feel down stairs this morning
And Tommy bit me.

Hurray. My little boy is walking.
And has had his first haircut.

He looks like a proper little boy now.

It's going so fast!

(However, don't want to press pause - am looking forward to him sleeping through and having lie ins)

Spent all yesterday sobbing into a large glass of red wine while husband attempted Controlled Crying.
Basically Tommy screams in his cot like he is being killed and I just have to carry on cooking/cleaning/drinking profusely as if nothing is going on.
We leave him for two minutes, go back in, pat him in patronising fashion while he goes blue and roars. Leave him for five minutes, repeat process, leave him for ten minutes etc etc.
Had mini nervous breakdown and decided am pants mother, Cannot make own baby nap.
Stressed out.

On bright side was taken out to lunch and got flowers.

 pros...

someone else cooked
Got wine
Nice pretty flowers

cons

Tommy roared throughout and everyone looked
Tomym made break for it and crawled underneath someone elses table. Had to fish him out under disappoving eye of veteran mother who quite frankly should have shown me a littel more understanding
Tommy eaten flowers

Spent all yesterday sobbing into a large glass of red wine while husband attempted Controlled Crying.
Basically Tommy screams in his cot like he is being killed and I just have to carry on cooking/cleaning/drinking profusely as if nothing is going on.
We leave him for two minutes, go back in, pat him in patronising fashion while he goes blue and roars. Leave him for five minutes, repeat process, leave him for ten minutes etc etc.
Had mini nervous breakdown and decided am pants mother, Cannot make own baby nap.
Stressed out.

On bright side was taken out to lunch and got flowers.

 pros...

someone else cooked
Got wine
Nice pretty flowers

cons

Tommy roared throughout and everyone looked
Tomym made break for it and crawled underneath someone elses table. Had to fish him out under disappoving eye of veteran mother who quite frankly should have shown me a littel more understanding
Tommy eaten flowers

Ace. as if I haven't had an appalling week with both me and Tommy going off sick and vomming everywhere - I am then informed by his nursery I have to bring him in today dressed as a Mr Man.
What the XXXX?

Where am I going to find a Mr Man outift from? How is it possible? They're just shapes.
People keep suggested MR Bump but have they ever tried to put bandages on a squirmy child? No? Thought not.

Briefly thought about dressing him in blue and then sticking pasters all over his face but decided would be cruel to have to pull them all off and cause him much pain just because his nursery want to be in the paper looking cute for comic relief.

ARRRRRRGGGHHHH

My mother-in-law to be has just rung up and offered to drop me off some Valium en route to the church.

She wasn't kidding. She says she's having one anyway as she can't cope with the whole ordeal.

 

I’m getting married on Saturday.
That is, if I turn up.
The whole marriage thing isn’t a problem - but this whole wedding lark leaves a lot to be desired.
The thing is, I just don’t care. I don’t care about centre pieces. I don’t care about the bridesmaids’s pashminas. i don’t even know what a pashmina is. i don’t care about getting posh make up. I don’t care about pedicures, sugared almonds, place settings, pianists and white doves.
I just want to wear a white dress (which is a bit of a joke since I already have a son with the groom), walk down the the aisle, say I do, get some nice grub, some plonk and then dance to Dexy’s Midnight Runners.
Just like all the weddings I went to when I was a kid, and the bride would have blue or pink Rimmel eyeshadow up to her brows to, a bit of net curtain on her head, a fancy curly mop “do” by a mobile hairdresser and the groom and all his mates would all dance in a circle to Dodgy DJ Derek and his travelling light set and a bridesmaid would be in floods of tears in the loos .
That’s a wedding. Not these showy monstosities with quails eggs and possuin larks, Stepford bridemaids in £500 frocks with scary matching hair and make up and string quartets.
I want vol-au-vents and cheese and little sausages on sticks and soggy saly and vinegar chipsticks. I want my brother in law’s band and shiny waistcoats.
But most of all I want people to stop asking me if I’m excited then looking shocked when I shrug and go “Not Really.” Don’y ask then!
Because the truth is - there is too much pressure put on brides to have the perfect day. They’re just setting themselves up for failure. I’m surprised we don’t see more of them weeping over their £1000 cake, howling “It’s just not how I thought it would be”.
Welcome to married life love.

I am completely, totally and all encompassingly snow giddy.

It's snowing. it's ace. it's beautiful. It's romantic. It's dramatic. School's are closed.

It all makes a change from the day to day boring shades of grey weather.

Yet, as soon as the first flake falls, people act like it's the apocalyspe. Buses stop. People don't come to work because there is snow on the drive. (walk to the end of it?!).
Old people refuse to come out of the house, deliveries come to a halt. All because of a bit of snow. It's not acid rain.
I've been all over The Ridings trying to buy a snow suit for Tommy, only to find bikinis, sun tan lotion and Spring fashion. It's February!!!! We're still in the bleak mid winter.

I for one can't wait to get home and make snow angels with my son. Bring on Narnia - snow is magical!