.... random rants and rambles. no agenda. yet.

4 days and 9 hours ago (around noon on saturday 13th february) ...

well, yeah. you could say that twitter has eaten this blog. let's face it; typing 140 character tweets is really quite undemanding, so when i get round to blogging, i'm totally overwhelmed at the vast amount of SPACE available and the vast amount of THINGS that i could/should/would have said.

youl'll have to forgive my typing - the boy is asleep under my right arm at the mo, which is mostly* a wondrous thing that we never thought possible during the crazy, sleep deprived time we had last night.

* except i need a wee, but we won't dwell on that.

so anyway.

we've all been ill in our house - the boy still is, poor love, which means lots of grumpy and several breathtakingly full nappies - and have descended into a state of utter disarray as a result (which is why i'm blogging; there's not a lot else i can do while trapped on the sofa with only my left arm free).

... and in the present moment ...

Woo, I feel like Dr Who. Yup, the tardis called me so I could not finish the above. I'm not quite sure what happened, except it involved The Boy being diagnosed with gastroenteritis (he's finally recovering, but not QUITE there yet), and lots of rushing around looking after him and doing lots of washing, and working, and quite a few other things in between.

I owe lots of people emails and need to tidy my desk. I have, however, managed to Tweet several times. Of course I've managed to Tweet! Twitter ate my blog.

More soon, maybe. You know where I am in the meantime...

Posted by j at 10:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Sorry, Kathy.

I guess I just don't feel much like blogging at the moment - blame Twitter and its social-ness; blame work and the pre-Christmas rush, which sucks up time like there's no tomorrow; blame The Boy and his extreme cuteness; blame something else - c'est la vie.

At least I've been updating The Boy's blog regularly, and have just uploaded his first subtitled video (subtitled by C, of course!)... if you're in search of cuteness, click here!

Happy weekends, all!

Posted by j at 5:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

For of course, it has been quite an emotional day today. In no particular order, today I have been:

1) Triumphant: My PGDip British Sign Language/English Interpreting and Translation portfolio PASSED, which means I am now a qualified BSL/English Interpreter/Translator. Hooray!

2) Disgusted: Bloody BBC. Allowing freedom of speech is not the same as allowing a racist to try and brainwash the nation. Non-biased, my arse.

3) Relieved: Bloody Nick Griffin. Glad he showed his true colours. Don't think he's clever enough not to. The KKK are non-violent?! Please!

4) Annoyed: Bloody Sainsbury's swanned into Hebden this afternoon to spray the town square with fake snow and film an advert with Jamie Oliver, spurring the area's hetero females to surround him in glee, and me to try not to grumble about male chefs too much (purely for C's benefit).

5) Amused: C occasionally wishes I was hearing, but only for practical reasons. Like today, for example, when she and The Boy were in a different room from me and he threw up... she managed to catch it in his bib, but was powerless to do anything or move because she had him in one hand, and his puke-filled bib in the other. Got that? And what did The Boy do? He leaned forward and started lapping up the puke, just like Harrythedog loves to do.*

* C says I have to make it clear that the puke consisted of fresh breastmilk. Yeah.

Posted by j at 8:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (8)

You know it's time to update your blog when you get an irate comment from your (lovely) mother-in-law. Oops. So here goes, T!

I'm writing this on the playmat in the living room, with, of course, The Boy sitting in front of me, playing with the mounds of brightly coloured plastic that Every Baby Must Own - you can avoid it, but it will find you in the end - occasionally shouting his favourite new word; "AAAAH!" Because that's what The Boy loves to do; shout. Without warning. I think he may have got that one from his Mummy J.

I do have a good reason for not blogging, however. We've all had colds, which has meant The Boy's sleeping pattern has been downright weird, which, coupled with the fact we have a lot of work on at the moment, has been knackering. I salute the inventor of the snot sucker, however. Yes, there has been screaming, but without it, there would have been more screaming and more blockages than we knew what to do with - and all the mummies we've told about it agree. One said that when she asked for one in a chemist, the bloke who worked there looked at her funny and said, "Ooh, I don't think you should be using one of those. They sound dangerous!" Please.

BUT *I* know where you can get one, and when I told another mummy, she rushed off immediately with a determined look in her eye, declaring that she was going to get one "straight away." I felt like some kind of illegal arms dealer or something, not a mummy from Mytholmroyd who feels sorry for babies because they can't blow their own noses yet.

In other news, yesterday we went to The Evil That Is IKEA, where we rushed around frantically trying to find things to buy before The Boy had a meltdown (he didn't, as it happened, and we only didn't find one item, which is probably a record - and that was because it only exists in my imagination and not in real life). This frantic rushing involved using those shortcuts that IKEA helpfully lays out between "zones" - but my excellent spatial memory does not work properly in IKEA because everything looks the same, so we kept running around in circles, with C pushing The Boy in his buggy and me purposefully leading them through corridors and secret doors, only for C to look confused and ask me, "Haven't we been here already?"

It was kind of like groundhog day, except we were surrounded by sofas.

Afterwards, I realised that I've never been to IKEA without getting lost.

Posted by j at 9:19 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Wish everyone who read this blog (all 3 of you) would come on Twitter instead. It's constantly moving and updating and, well, interesting, while I'm feeling so outdated here at SHD. Changes may be afoot soon... stay tuned (or not!)

In the meantime, here is a brief snippet of my life in links:

Fun, weird and generally eccentric.

I keep meaning to watch this soon, and this.

Finally, I can't believe I haven't linked to The Boy's blog on here before, but, well, I have now. My, hasn't he grown?

Posted by j at 7:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I know it's 10.30am and I've been awake for 3 hours but my pot of coffee hasn't really helped me to FEEL properly awake yet. Oh, and my knees hurt... probably a result of walking for around 9 miles last weekend; 5 on Saturday* and about 4 yesterday, including a very steep hill; anyone who has ever pushed a 3-wheeler buggy up a very steep hill will know that it makes your legs feel like someone's stuck bits of wood in them and set them alight.

[*Special mention must be given to my lovely wife, who chased me, laughing evilly and waving a piece of horse's toenail, after one of my supposed-friends had told me it was a dead snake. Yes, I screamed.]

And yes, we could have taken The Boy up and down hills in a sling - we did, part of the way, just in case you were wondering - but can I just point out that in the hot weather, it feels a bit like having a leaky hot water bottle strapped across your chest. A very cute leaky hot water bottle, but still.

Anyway, whatever goes up must come down, and when we were on our way down the very steep hill, shuffling and bumping down a loose track that was not for the faint hearted, we passed a very old lady who was slowly and carefully making her way amongst the stones and dust, using two of those special pro walkers' walking sticks. As we passed, she said, "I can't manage much these days, but I do try my best."

RE-SPECT.

Posted by j at 10:39 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I have invented a new phrase (or at least, I think I have - you never know)... Over Freecycling. This happens when Freecycling gets out of hand.

This happened to us last week when C asked me, "Do we want rainbow coloured curtains and a matching kids' duvet cover?" Usually when C asks me if we want any number of random items on Freecycle, I say "NO" and carry on doing whatever I was doing, but I've got a thing for rainbow stuff, and The Boy has too. So this time, I said yes, thinking they might come in handy at some point.

To cut a long story shorter, C arranged to meet the Rainbow Curtain Lady in the village that evening. However, it wasn't until we were out walking the dog, that we realised that C had forgotten all about it until the last minute, so we'd have to go on foot to meet her rather than taking the car. Ah, more enviromentally friendly and all that. Cool.

Um, no. This is us, remember?

Upon arriving at the meeting place, Rainbow Curtain Lady looked worried. "Don't you have a car?" she said.

"It's OK. We can put the curtains in the pram!" C replied.

THEN we realised they came in two very big bin bags, so we'd have to take The Boy out of his pram and put the bin bags in it instead, along with the bonus Jungle Book suitcase that the Rainbow Curtain Lady made C take too, because C is far too polite to say no, and because the snake on the suitcase lights up when you press the bear's nose, or something.

So we thanked Nice Rainbow Curtain Lady, then UP THE HILL we trudged with our pram laden with huge, heavy bin bags, a bonus suitcase, a dog and a baby. Did I mention that I also needed a wee? Irrelevant, but true.

And then, upon arriving home, we found that the rainbow curtains were not rainbow curtains after all. They were primary colour curtains. Very nice, BUT NOT RAINBOW!

So C took them away again the next day.

But did we keep the bonus Jungle Book suitcase? Of course!

So, that is Over Freecycling - bag lady prams are optional, though.

Mind you, my memory is even worse than C's - this morning I was about to start writing an essay, when I opened a file, thinking it was notes, to find that I had ALREADY WRITTEN IT before The Boy was born, and completely forgotten all about it. The joy!

In other news, Eclipse is doing. our. heads. in. Does anyone have any internet service provider recommendations? Or just tell me what you use and if it's any good? I'd be grateful for any comments in the comment box,(please)!

Posted by j at 4:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Oh, no. My head is largely preoccupied by the above cuteness that demands to be played with and changed and jiggled to sleep.

And when I'm not doing that I'm busy FINISHING my PGDip portfolio that I have delayed for, oh, about a year or more. It is not going to go away, and strangely enough, The Boy is quite a good motivator because a) he has another mum who can also do jiggling and b) the sooner I HAND IT IN ALREADY, the sooner I can co-jiggle.

Oh, and I'm also on Twitter quite a lot, talking nonsense. Just so you know. It's much better than F@cebook.

Posted by j at 5:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

I haven't updated this blog for a while because the dog ate my homework and then the computer blew up and when I gathered up the pieces I realised there was a bit missing so it didn't work any more. Or something.

Seriously, aside from the usual flurry that is my life, I've been bogged down by hayfever, which has left me feeling as if someone blew pepper in my eyes, sucked out my brain and replaced it with a ball of cotton wool, then filled my nostrils with sandpaper. God. Today, I gave up on the cheap medication that I was taking and went to see our nice local herbalist, who gave me some special tiny tablets that you have to put on your tongue and they dissolve. Oddly, they don't taste of anything, which is probably a good thing. I'm just glad that I feel better already, although there are 450 - yes, 450! - in the box, which I calculate will last me for 36 days because I have to take 12 a day. Weird.

In other news, I have been Hero Mummy twice this week; today by dashing around in the rain (yes, I know, what's that about?!) with the empty pram, cramming it into the car and driving round the corner to pick C and The Boy up, so they didn't get wet, BUT MY FOOT GOT SOAKED. The other heroics were also weather-related, when one night I drove to the 24-hour Tesco to buy a fan because it was too hot for The Boy to sleep. Of course, the 24-hour Tesco HAD NO FANS, but the late-closing Sainsbury's had a vast array of them instead. Phew.

Having cooled down, The Boy is doing great, although he seems to be teething, or at least warming up to it (a health visitor told us "it might just be his teeth moving around in his gums" which makes me feel pale inside), which means he screams more than usual. He doesn't usually scream or cry much, so it's a bit unnerving having a calm baby who suddenly goes purple and wails as if something bad just happened - but we can't see the bad thing, which makes it a bit confusing sometimes.

He did enjoy being pushed on a 2-hour hill walk last Sunday, though. Yes, I know that was a bit insane, but it seemed too hot for slings, so we prammed it up and down the country lanes of Calderdale.

Oh, and Big Brother 10 has started. Maybe this year, I'll like it for more than two days. We'll see!

Posted by j at 8:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

For various complicated reasons - none of which are worth blogging about - today, I held my breath and joined The Evil That Is F@cebook.

Yes, I know.

And no, I didn't want to do it.

So why did I do it? Because I had to.

So anyway, I did it and I'm kind of sick of it already. C thinks I secretly like it, but really, I feel like someone removed my brain and replaced it with a giant interactive catalogue featuring everyone in the entire world (except C, and about seven other people). Scarily, when I joined, FB "suggested" about 14 million people who I might like to be friends with... and I knew many of them. So they obviously employ clever geeks who have weaved some kind of web between everyone and their friends, and their friends' friends, and their friends' friends' friends and whoever else is a fan of whatever they are a fan of. I'm having enough trouble trying to locate my "Wall".

It's a bit like trying to stay on a treadmill that's moving too fast. It is exhausting.

There seems to be two main types of people on FB; those who tell me "Oh, I only put basic information about myself there. I use it so that I can see everyone's photos, that's all. It's crap!" and those who treat it like a second job.

Me? I'm the type who switches off her computer and flees downstairs to make the tea, talking earnestly with The Boy, who is thankfully far too young for poking people, sharing weird quizzes and having 1,289 friends.

Thank God.

Posted by j at 6:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

ok so i'm under pressure here. i have the boy on my left arm - because he refuses to be elsewhere - while i type and eat toast with my right hand. the dog is salivating by my right elbow, wondering when i am going to give up on the toast and give it all to him.

so you will have to forgive the lower case.

who cares about capitalisation, anyway? lower case is the new black.

and yes, i could be wearing the boy in a sling. in fact, i WAS wearing the boy in a sling, but he decided that he wanted to hijack my arm instead. this means, of course, that the sling is still slung around my body... the swathes of black fabric make me look a bit like a cross between a headmistress and a pirate. sometimes, on days like this, i feel like i'm in fancy dress, swooshing around the house in delight with loose, babyless material trailing after me.

and then the tesco delivery man gives me a funny look and i whip it all off.

but anyway, this isn't a mummyblog. it isn't an anythingblog, actually. so i will move on and discuss the nation's favourite topic. the weather. and BBQs.

for example, our new gas BBQ will be delivered soon, i hope, but probably not in time for this weekend, which is forecast either to be rainy or sunny, depending on where you obsess over your weather information. hmm.

[the fact that we're getting a new gas BBQ stems from how a) we recently realised that our next door neighbour's newish boyfriend is BBQ Man #2, and life would be unbearable if we were unable to copy him; and b) C is our very own BBQ Man, but breastfeeding and lighting BBQs do not go together, so unless we get a gas one, we will never have a BBQ this year. that's why.]

oh, and does anyone agree that those nasty men in the apprentice are only there to make people like me, C, Ce, E and Jacks get mad, throw our shoes at the tv, and keep watching every single week, just in case they get fired?

Posted by j at 10:17 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Somehow, The Boy is a month old today. This seems to be a good time to reflect on some of the many lessons which aren't highlighted in any of the baby manuals that we own. Mind you, they may be; reading frantically at 3am isn't one of the best times to absorb info. Ironically.

* Supermarkets categorise nappies etc as "baby accessories", which both scares me and makes me think of how 19 year olds "pimp their mobiles" (or whatever you're meant to say to refer to fucking about with/customisng small, fast cars - I'm not too familiar with 19 year olds' lingo these days).

* It is possible to spend an entire day with baby vomit all down your front, and not realise until you're getting ready for bed, or someone gives you a funny look, or possibly both at the same time.

* It isn't a good idea to save your baby's 0-3 months sized clothing until they have outgrown their newborn sized stuff, because it will either all fit or be too small already (rather than huge, as you had thought), and just add to the wardrobe confusion that apparently never ends.

* Random people in the street will suddenly stare at you, point in your direction and say things like "AHHHHHHH!" or "Look, Irene, there's a baby hiding in there!" and it will take you a few moments to realise that's because you have your baby in a sling.

* People who you've just met will decide it's OK to a) tell you why they think your baby is crying, b) what you should do to stop them doing so, and c) insist they are right.

* Babies' poo travels faster than the speed of light when they haven't got nappies on. Sod's law.

Posted by j at 5:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Get us and our ORGANISATION!

It is 11.15am and we have eaten breakfast. Yes, actual breakfast-breakfast, not "oops, it's 1pm, shall we scrap breakfast and just have lunch instead?" mealage. Oh YEAH.

I am proud of that fact. Slightly alarmed by my proudness, but proud nevertheless.

I am also proud that last night's projectile vomit damage is now churning around in the washing machine, and we are currently waiting for tesco.com to deliver groceries.

The baby? Oh, he's asleep in a Tricotti on Mummy C (who is filling in a multitude of those forms that you have to fill in when you pop a sprog). We like it when he isn't throwing up all over us or standing firmly in his poo, though that's cool too, somehow.

Woo!

Posted by j at 11:13 AM | Permalink | Comments (6)

Firstly, many thanks for your congratulations! Se- (Get interrupted by C, who informs me that yet another midwife wants to see The Boy, who is presently in a sling across my chest. Accompany Sling Boy downstairs and stand and have my chest The Boy cooed at by midwife number 8 (?) who is very cheerful and is wearing scarily cool designer spectacles. Cooing over, traipse back upstairs.)

Secondly, I (Cue dubious vibration coming from direction of sling) have broken my Must Blog At Least Once A Week Rule once too many. I do not apologise. Instead, I have decid- (Get called for lunch by C. Try to eat lunch, then realise eating soup whilst wearing a sling is not very easy. Desposit The Boy in bouncer. Resume eating lunch. Sort 500th and 501st loads of laundry. Forget entirely about blog entry. Stack dog food. Remove dog. Realise The Boy is crying; remove from bouncer and take to Changing Station "his" bedroom. Change nappy; recognise suspicious expression on The Boy's face, whip off clean nappy and triumphantly catch pee fountain in bundled up terry cloth. Rejoice. Redress The Now Screaming Boy in complicated outfit. Vow never to dress him in a complicated outfit again unless absolutely necessary (umm?). Deposit Screaming Boy at Feeding Station C. Remember existence of blog.)

SECONDLY, I have decided to scrap my Must Blog At Least Once A Week rule and replace it with Must Blog As Often As Possible rule, because I have discovered it is very foolish to try and set time limits when you're constantly getting puked on or trying to pull a sock onto a small leg that will not stop kicking in fury.

Coincidently, T just emailed me saying, "Its amazing how a little person can have you running around them like a headless chicken!"

EXACTLY.

Posted by j at 3:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Oh yeah.

As most of the world already knows, the above bundle of cuteness came into our lives at 2.09am on Sunday 15th March. And after that, life just became a confusing, chaotic flurry of awakeness, nappies, screaming, occasional and valued peace, pee fountains, poop mountains, cry monsters (how these words got into my vocabulary, I do not know, but I have a feeling they're here for a while) and God knows what else.

Oh, and joy. Joy is the top of the list, of course!

Joy is closely followed by forgetfulness - C and I are constantly trying and failing to remember what we're doing, what we've eaten and what day of the week it is. Lack of sleep does that to you. Just a few minutes ago, for example, I found myself gazing at my monitor and wondering why, then "You're writing a blog, J. A blog!" came into my head and here I am.

So, if you have emailed me in the last week or so, please don't expect a reply for the next 20,000 years. I know you don't anyway, but still. I'm too busy wandering around in an amazed and joyous daze, dodging pee fountains (missed once so far) and remembering which planet I'm on.

I thank you, and goodnight.

Posted by j at 7:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (8)