Earlier this week I suffered my first attack of writer's block. Normally, I've got loads of posts just waiting to be written and published. I seem to have worked my way through them or if there are any left they either aren't finished yet or just don't seem all that relevant anymore.
It took me a while to get over it. I would sit down and normally the fingers just start going. But not this week. I just would star. Then I'd make some coffee. Sit down and stare some more until I needed another cup of coffee. Nothing I though about sounded interesting.
So I went back to the roots of the blog. I just started writing about everything that happens. And my inspiration found me.
Th last 2 days saw my highest traffic ever. And there I was bemoaning just a few days the drop off. What was I thinking?
Saturday, 9 June 2007
Friday, 8 June 2007
Pupil of the Week
Sebastian is St George's Pupil of the Week.And all because of me.....hehehehe!
If you hark your memories back to the post about the whole late to school disaster on Thursday morning, I found out today what happened after Sebastian went through the school doors.
Apparently, he went up to his classroom only to find it empty. Everyone else had already left the school. Sebastian (on his
own volition) put his bags down and went to the school office and found Miss Griffin, the Head of the Pre-Prep Department. He explained the situation and she walked him (at quite a pace apparently) up the hill. As they were making rapid progress, Sebastian apparently told her "Wow, you can actually run quite quickly for someone of your age."Yikes! Not exactly what you want to say to the principal but she thought it was charming, thank goodness.
He w
as given the Pupil of the Year award for behaving very sensibly and acting calmly and independently. Or so he tells me. How cool is that?!?!?!Furthermore, he got ANOTHER 10 out of 10 on his spelling test. that makes only 3 weekly tests since Christmas that he hasn't got a perfect score. He works very hard for that score all week.
Finally, he was awarded a candle award this week for Good Work. This is given when they repeatedly do good work in all of their classes. This is his 5 candle award this year. Some of those other one's were for good behaviour (which are a little easier for him to earn given his high charm factor).
And I am sooooo proud of him.!
All About America
Phew! I survived!The Year 1 children of St George's are now suitably educated about the vital statistics of the good ol US of A. They know how big it is. They know how many people live there. they know how some of us got there. They know what the flag looks like and why. They know about the geography. They know about the diversity in the landscape, the weather, and the people. And They know that we founded Krispy Kreme donuts, and McDonald's, and Coca Cola. All the important stuff.
May of the children have visited before: Chicago, Boston, new York, Los Angeles. I was very impressed with just how well travelled these children are. In fact, one child told me he'd been to all 50 states. I reckon he was a bit mistaken. Bless.
Thank goodness the teachers were there to help me keep control. they stepped in a required moments to keep order. We had quite a few children who didn't want to ask questions but did want to tell me lots of other stuff.
The funny thing was I would ask a question. Everyone (or nearly everyone) would raise their hand. I'd call on somebody. And they would say they didn't know. Now I ask you, why did they raise their hand?
The prize for the most insightful question goes to Jamie Cook for wanting to know why Americans should be respectful to the flag.
Most of the questions were around the animals and if they would see a moose if they went to America. They wanted to know if I'd seen any.
Armand knew who the president was. Very impressive!
This was fun but I'm glad I only had 40 minutes. I have a new found appreciation for how hard it is to be a teacher!
Throw the Baby Down the Stairs
When Sebastian was about 4 months old he was invited to his first birthday party. Brooke, the little girl who lived next door to us (when we lived in Windsor) was celebrating her 2 year birthday.
This was Sebastian's first birthday invitation but given he was only 4 months old I am sure I was more excited than he was.
I raced around like a blue a** fly getting myself ready and getting Sebastian ready because god knows it takes a new mother all day to do this. I had both of us all dressed without any vomit, spit up or poo on us. I even had managed to get makeup including lipstick on.
I was racing down the stairs so that we would be ready to leave the minute daddy walked in from his hard day at the office.
I have this rather bad habit of piling things up on the steps to go upstairs. I blame my mother. She always did it when I was a child and now I do it. Frankly, even if she didn't I'd still blame her. She doesn't mind.
There was a huge pile of magazines that needed to be taken upstairs that I had put there that morning. In my rushing down the stairs with a baby in my hands, I forgot about the pile of magazines. My foot hit the magazines. The magazines flew up in the air as my foot slipped. Sebastian slipped out of my arms.
Time stopped. In ever so slow motion, I saw Sebastian flying through the air. I saw my arms reaching out to catch him. I saw my hands miss. I saw him hit the steps. I saw him bounce down the last couple of steps. I saw my body falling from forward motion almost land on him. at the last minute, time sped up and I threw myself sideways over the side of the stairs and hit my face on the wall and wedged my shins in on the bottom of the side of the stairs.
I freed myself by just picking up my feet and slumping to the ground in the hallway. I crawled to Sebastian who had done the silent scream as he hit the ground quickly followed by the blood curdling scream of intense shock. I tell you, I could have been paralyzed and still gotten to him.
I gathered him up into my arms and rocked. He wasn't bleeding. His head wasn't caved in. He stopped crying. Marc walked through the door to find Seb & I crumpled in a mess on the floor at the foot of the stairs. I mumbled through my tears what happened.
We rushed off to the hospital. Because Seb was so young, they looked him all over and made sure he was OK. Once he got the green light, we realised my nose was bleeding and my shins were all cut up. I hadn't even noticed. And I didn't care.
Mum of the Year Moment! I still feel guilty. I never stack magazines on the stairs. And if he fails at life he can blame me for throwing him down the stairs!
This was Sebastian's first birthday invitation but given he was only 4 months old I am sure I was more excited than he was.
I raced around like a blue a** fly getting myself ready and getting Sebastian ready because god knows it takes a new mother all day to do this. I had both of us all dressed without any vomit, spit up or poo on us. I even had managed to get makeup including lipstick on.
I was racing down the stairs so that we would be ready to leave the minute daddy walked in from his hard day at the office.
I have this rather bad habit of piling things up on the steps to go upstairs. I blame my mother. She always did it when I was a child and now I do it. Frankly, even if she didn't I'd still blame her. She doesn't mind.
There was a huge pile of magazines that needed to be taken upstairs that I had put there that morning. In my rushing down the stairs with a baby in my hands, I forgot about the pile of magazines. My foot hit the magazines. The magazines flew up in the air as my foot slipped. Sebastian slipped out of my arms.
Time stopped. In ever so slow motion, I saw Sebastian flying through the air. I saw my arms reaching out to catch him. I saw my hands miss. I saw him hit the steps. I saw him bounce down the last couple of steps. I saw my body falling from forward motion almost land on him. at the last minute, time sped up and I threw myself sideways over the side of the stairs and hit my face on the wall and wedged my shins in on the bottom of the side of the stairs.
I freed myself by just picking up my feet and slumping to the ground in the hallway. I crawled to Sebastian who had done the silent scream as he hit the ground quickly followed by the blood curdling scream of intense shock. I tell you, I could have been paralyzed and still gotten to him.
I gathered him up into my arms and rocked. He wasn't bleeding. His head wasn't caved in. He stopped crying. Marc walked through the door to find Seb & I crumpled in a mess on the floor at the foot of the stairs. I mumbled through my tears what happened.
We rushed off to the hospital. Because Seb was so young, they looked him all over and made sure he was OK. Once he got the green light, we realised my nose was bleeding and my shins were all cut up. I hadn't even noticed. And I didn't care.
Mum of the Year Moment! I still feel guilty. I never stack magazines on the stairs. And if he fails at life he can blame me for throwing him down the stairs!
Thursday, 7 June 2007
On the Way to Nursery
Tonight Marc & I went to the New Parent's Evening at St George's in preparation for Abigail's start in Nursery in September. We get to meet her teachers (who we already know and trust implicitly). And we got to meet some of the new parent's who don't already have children at St. George's. This is one of the many baby steps we take on our journey to Abigail starting school.
First we registered her, when she was just 2 months old. She was assured a place because her older brother already goes there so we didn't have the agony of the wait like we did when we registered Sebastian at 6 months.
Tonight, the school laid out what lies ahead. Abigail will have a "practice" day on 18 June. She will go to school. We hope she doesn't burn it down. Or get expelled on her first day. We've duly warned the school. We hope they take precautions.
Then we'll pay the first semester of fees. This will be a shock!
Finally, she'll start full time in September. She'll go 5 days/week 8:45-11:45 am. There will be 18 children in her class. There are another 16 in the afternoon class.
When we went through this process with Sebastian, I was frightened of letting him go. I was afraid for him. I wasn't sure if he would be confident enough. I didn't want him to be bullied. Or wee his pants. I mean who was going to help him up on the toilet? (They got him a little stool in the end.) Were they going to understand what he was saying? What if someone was mean to him? Would they make school uniforms small enough for him? (No, we still roll the sleeves on his blazer.)
I don't have any of these fears for Abigail. No, my sadness is quite different with Abigail. She's strong and confident. She's been potty trained since she was 2. Heck, she did it herself. She speak clearly and has a large vocabulary. You never wonder what she's thinking. She tells you. No one will be mean to Abigail....and get away with it. She's a drama queen.
No, I'm afraid for me. She's my baby girl. We still cuddle for hours sitting on the sofa sharing Eskimo and butterfly kisses. I want to do that until she's 16. I know I can't but I want to! Her going off to school means I'm getting old. I can't really say I'm a mother to 2 small children any more. I'm a mother of 2 school age children. Not quite the same, is it?
All children grow up. It's my job to raise them to be adults. I know this. But must it happen all so quickly? Who will I become without my babies? I know I should be excited for her but right now I'm just sad for me.
First we registered her, when she was just 2 months old. She was assured a place because her older brother already goes there so we didn't have the agony of the wait like we did when we registered Sebastian at 6 months.
Tonight, the school laid out what lies ahead. Abigail will have a "practice" day on 18 June. She will go to school. We hope she doesn't burn it down. Or get expelled on her first day. We've duly warned the school. We hope they take precautions.
Then we'll pay the first semester of fees. This will be a shock!
Finally, she'll start full time in September. She'll go 5 days/week 8:45-11:45 am. There will be 18 children in her class. There are another 16 in the afternoon class.
When we went through this process with Sebastian, I was frightened of letting him go. I was afraid for him. I wasn't sure if he would be confident enough. I didn't want him to be bullied. Or wee his pants. I mean who was going to help him up on the toilet? (They got him a little stool in the end.) Were they going to understand what he was saying? What if someone was mean to him? Would they make school uniforms small enough for him? (No, we still roll the sleeves on his blazer.)
I don't have any of these fears for Abigail. No, my sadness is quite different with Abigail. She's strong and confident. She's been potty trained since she was 2. Heck, she did it herself. She speak clearly and has a large vocabulary. You never wonder what she's thinking. She tells you. No one will be mean to Abigail....and get away with it. She's a drama queen.
No, I'm afraid for me. She's my baby girl. We still cuddle for hours sitting on the sofa sharing Eskimo and butterfly kisses. I want to do that until she's 16. I know I can't but I want to! Her going off to school means I'm getting old. I can't really say I'm a mother to 2 small children any more. I'm a mother of 2 school age children. Not quite the same, is it?
All children grow up. It's my job to raise them to be adults. I know this. But must it happen all so quickly? Who will I become without my babies? I know I should be excited for her but right now I'm just sad for me.
Click Comments
You may have noticed a new addition to my blog: ClickComments.
If you haven't, are you blind?
If you have, click!
If you move your mouse to hover over the icons you will see what each of them means. Click on the one that applies to the post you just read. You can still comment. Please don't stop commenting. If you stop, I will remove the ClickComments. I'm hoping this will engage some of my reticent lurkers that don't leave comments to give me some feedback.
If you haven't, are you blind?
If you have, click!
If you move your mouse to hover over the icons you will see what each of them means. Click on the one that applies to the post you just read. You can still comment. Please don't stop commenting. If you stop, I will remove the ClickComments. I'm hoping this will engage some of my reticent lurkers that don't leave comments to give me some feedback.
Another Pizza
OK, so this mum just can't get it right....Normally, Daddy drops Sebastian off at school no later than 8:10 am. He tends to be one of the first ones to arrive. Today, Daddy had an early appointment and I was working from home so I told Marc I would do the drop off. I was working and suddenly realised that it had gone 8:40. He is supposed to be at school by 8:50.
We jumped in the car and I drove like Katrina Mad Woman to the school. We arrived at 8:52. I congratulated myself on only being 2 minutes late.
I returned home. I looked in the diary to check what else the day held only to realise that Sebastian was supposed to be at school at 8:30 this morning. They had a field trip to Pizza Express to make pizzas. I had completely forgotten. And the one morning we were late was the one morning he needed to be early.
I feared the time I had to pick him up knowing that I had let him down and that he probably had missed the field trip.
He came out of the school, proudly carrying his pizza. I was so relieved. Thank god in heaven for Miss Griffin who walked him up to the restaurant after all the other children had already left.
Mental note to self: pay more attention!
A Tough Crowd
Tomorrow I may face my tougher audience yet.
You may remember my level of anxiety around doing a presentation at the Microsoft Utility Forum last month. I survived, In fact I excelled (and I don't mind admitting it!)
Tomorrow I face my toughest audience yet. I am presenting "All About the USA" to Sebastian Year1 class. It will be 2 classes combined together so about 38 children. Everyone is 6 years old (or so). I've got 20 minutes with another 10 minutes for questions.
I've spent hours and hours putting this presentation together. It's got sharp graphics and lots of pictures. Oh man, the panic is setting in!
I'm talking about the size and history of the place. I'm talking about the geography and unique animals.
Any top tips for presenting to children?
You may remember my level of anxiety around doing a presentation at the Microsoft Utility Forum last month. I survived, In fact I excelled (and I don't mind admitting it!)
Tomorrow I face my toughest audience yet. I am presenting "All About the USA" to Sebastian Year1 class. It will be 2 classes combined together so about 38 children. Everyone is 6 years old (or so). I've got 20 minutes with another 10 minutes for questions.
I've spent hours and hours putting this presentation together. It's got sharp graphics and lots of pictures. Oh man, the panic is setting in!
I'm talking about the size and history of the place. I'm talking about the geography and unique animals.
Any top tips for presenting to children?
Losing Things
Just before the school break last week, I bought Abigail a new pair of ballet slippers. She wore them once. Then we had a break which was only a week off. We keep all of Abigail's ballet kit in her dance bag.
This week Marc sent Abigail's dance bag with her to the child minder but left me a message asking where were her ballet shoes. He couldn't find them. I replied, in her dance bag. No, they weren't. I just though it was the fault of male finding skills. Marc isn't so skilled at finding these right in front of his nose.
So I dismissed this as something I could take care of when I got home.
We have turned this house upside down and cannot locate those dang ballet shoes. Where the heck have they gone? This is soooooo frustrating!
This week Marc sent Abigail's dance bag with her to the child minder but left me a message asking where were her ballet shoes. He couldn't find them. I replied, in her dance bag. No, they weren't. I just though it was the fault of male finding skills. Marc isn't so skilled at finding these right in front of his nose.
So I dismissed this as something I could take care of when I got home.
We have turned this house upside down and cannot locate those dang ballet shoes. Where the heck have they gone? This is soooooo frustrating!
Tuesday, 5 June 2007
A Budding Photographer
Sebastian fancies himself as quite the photographer. One of the things I like about the digital camera is I can give it to the children, they can take photos of anything they want, they can see the photographs themselves immediately and retake if they deem necessary. Sebastian is really quite good at framing a picture although I do question his choice of subject. these are some photographs that Seb took over the weekend. The flowers are a bouquet that Veda, Marc's mum, gave me for my birthday.
Whatcha think?
When I am Six
Yesterday my son set off for school one year older and another year wiser. He was so excited we couldn't tie him down. He took some lollipops into school to share with his mates.
After school we enjoyed the meal of his choice: Dominos pizza, delivered. Daddy made a chocolate birthday cake and Granny and Abigail decorated it whilst mummy worked.
He made quite a haul on the pressies including 2 remote controlled cars and one book of Greek Myths that mummy wants to read!
A good time was had by all!
Monday, 4 June 2007
The Gift of a Baby
When Marc and I first found out we were having a baby, mild panic set in. OK, not so mild. Sheer hysteria. We had been together for just a day less than a year. We weren't married. We lived in a small 2 bedroom flat (apartment). Our lives revolved around sailing catamarans (not a child friendly activity). I was working in New York City 2 weeks/month.
Once we got our heads around this, we got down to the busines sof sorting out our lives. We bought a house. We bought furniture. I stopped travelling. We took 2 different sets of birthing classes. I didn't want to risk some vital piece of information left undiscovered. I read books. Lots of books.
The first 3 months of pregnancy, I was sooooooo tired. I would walk in the door after a hard day and not even bother getting undressed. I would flop down on the bed and fall fast asleep. A couple hours later, I'd wake and eat something and go back to sleep. During the day it was all I could do to keep from falling asleep at my desk. I stopped travelling at 5 months.
During the 2nd trimester carpal tunnel (RSI) set in. Bad. So bad on so many levels. I couldn't cut my own food. I couldn't lift a cup of tea. I couldn't drive. I couldn't write. I didn't fit into our shower so I had to take a bath but because of the pain in my hands I couldn't heft myself into or out of the tub. Marc had to lower me down and pick me up, like a crane.
At 7 months, I got a bad case of the flu and cold. Coughing, vomiting (and other stuff). I dislocated a rib coughing so hard and had to see a chiropractor to sort it out. Marc had to do things for me no husband should have to do for his wife. and we weren't even married (yet).
I was huge. I could eclipse the sun. At 4 weeks before the due date, my mother arrived. She helped Marc with the laundry (Not much back then. It was just the two of us). She did some cooking. Bu mostly, she kept me company whilst Marc was at work and worked in my garden.
I had one night where my mum had gone off to the pub with a friend she had made. I had some very strong Braxton Hicks and I was convinced that baby was coming. But after a few hours, I contractions subsided and I just went to bed. It felt like this baby was never going to arrive
A week or so before my due date (7 June), I started to break out into a nasty rash all over my abdomen. It itched so badly, I scratched until I was bleeding. My mum convinced Marc to take me to the midwife who instructed us to pack a bag and go straight to the hospital.
The bag was packed. It had been for months in advance. The doctors thought I might have choleostasis which is where your liver stops processing the bile from your stomach and can poison the baby. So they induced labour.
And induced labour. And induced labour. I had drips. I had creams. I had a very scary midwife sticking her fingers where no finger shad gone before her. I had contractions. For 3 days!!!!! In the end, he wasn't coming out the way nature intended and I conceded to having a c-section.
We waited for what seemed like ages for the surgical crew to come and get us. I got the epidural which I seem to remember didn't hurt as badly as it did when I got the one for Abigail. They wheeled me into the operating theatre and I knew that in the next 10 minutes I was going to have a baby. Mild panic really set in.
Marc and the anethesist were talking about sailing. I had to remind him that they were going to pull a baby out of me and he needed to pay attention. He did and they did.
They announced it was a boy and held him up over the curtain for us to see. He was a mini-Marc. He looked just like my husband only in miniature. He was huge. He'd been born 6 years ago today (3 days before his official due date) and he was beautiful. He had great big cheeks and a scrunched up little nose. Marc cut the umbilical cord. And took loads of photos.
I spent ages in recovery alone. They changed this when Abigail was born and I didn't have to be separated from her in recovery but waiting to be reunited with my son and husband was the longest 20 minutes.
And then they handed him over to me. At 37, I was a mother. I never thought that moment would come. I was in awe of myself, my body, the whole process. Mostly I was in awe of this little man. He smelled so sweet. How do they get that smell? I grew a wee little human being inside of me and produced this most perfect little creature.
He breast fed like a champion and within 3 days, Marc and I took our perfect little boy home with us. We put him down in his car seat in the middle of the lounge and just stared at him wondering what in the world were we supposed to do now.
We are still wondering. That's precious little baby is 6 years old today. He has grown into a charming, clever, industrious boy. It is a joy to be a part of his family.
I love you, Sebastian! Happy Brithday!
Once we got our heads around this, we got down to the busines sof sorting out our lives. We bought a house. We bought furniture. I stopped travelling. We took 2 different sets of birthing classes. I didn't want to risk some vital piece of information left undiscovered. I read books. Lots of books.
The first 3 months of pregnancy, I was sooooooo tired. I would walk in the door after a hard day and not even bother getting undressed. I would flop down on the bed and fall fast asleep. A couple hours later, I'd wake and eat something and go back to sleep. During the day it was all I could do to keep from falling asleep at my desk. I stopped travelling at 5 months.
During the 2nd trimester carpal tunnel (RSI) set in. Bad. So bad on so many levels. I couldn't cut my own food. I couldn't lift a cup of tea. I couldn't drive. I couldn't write. I didn't fit into our shower so I had to take a bath but because of the pain in my hands I couldn't heft myself into or out of the tub. Marc had to lower me down and pick me up, like a crane.
At 7 months, I got a bad case of the flu and cold. Coughing, vomiting (and other stuff). I dislocated a rib coughing so hard and had to see a chiropractor to sort it out. Marc had to do things for me no husband should have to do for his wife. and we weren't even married (yet).
I was huge. I could eclipse the sun. At 4 weeks before the due date, my mother arrived. She helped Marc with the laundry (Not much back then. It was just the two of us). She did some cooking. Bu mostly, she kept me company whilst Marc was at work and worked in my garden.
I had one night where my mum had gone off to the pub with a friend she had made. I had some very strong Braxton Hicks and I was convinced that baby was coming. But after a few hours, I contractions subsided and I just went to bed. It felt like this baby was never going to arrive
A week or so before my due date (7 June), I started to break out into a nasty rash all over my abdomen. It itched so badly, I scratched until I was bleeding. My mum convinced Marc to take me to the midwife who instructed us to pack a bag and go straight to the hospital.
The bag was packed. It had been for months in advance. The doctors thought I might have choleostasis which is where your liver stops processing the bile from your stomach and can poison the baby. So they induced labour.
And induced labour. And induced labour. I had drips. I had creams. I had a very scary midwife sticking her fingers where no finger shad gone before her. I had contractions. For 3 days!!!!! In the end, he wasn't coming out the way nature intended and I conceded to having a c-section.
We waited for what seemed like ages for the surgical crew to come and get us. I got the epidural which I seem to remember didn't hurt as badly as it did when I got the one for Abigail. They wheeled me into the operating theatre and I knew that in the next 10 minutes I was going to have a baby. Mild panic really set in.
Marc and the anethesist were talking about sailing. I had to remind him that they were going to pull a baby out of me and he needed to pay attention. He did and they did.
They announced it was a boy and held him up over the curtain for us to see. He was a mini-Marc. He looked just like my husband only in miniature. He was huge. He'd been born 6 years ago today (3 days before his official due date) and he was beautiful. He had great big cheeks and a scrunched up little nose. Marc cut the umbilical cord. And took loads of photos.
I spent ages in recovery alone. They changed this when Abigail was born and I didn't have to be separated from her in recovery but waiting to be reunited with my son and husband was the longest 20 minutes.
And then they handed him over to me. At 37, I was a mother. I never thought that moment would come. I was in awe of myself, my body, the whole process. Mostly I was in awe of this little man. He smelled so sweet. How do they get that smell? I grew a wee little human being inside of me and produced this most perfect little creature.
He breast fed like a champion and within 3 days, Marc and I took our perfect little boy home with us. We put him down in his car seat in the middle of the lounge and just stared at him wondering what in the world were we supposed to do now.
We are still wondering. That's precious little baby is 6 years old today. He has grown into a charming, clever, industrious boy. It is a joy to be a part of his family.
I love you, Sebastian! Happy Brithday!
Sunday, 3 June 2007
Sunday Funday
Sunday was a proper summer day. Our temperatures soared to over 36 degrees C. We set up the pool in the garden for the children. We cleared out our garage and Marc made 2 trips to the tip (dump). We still have another 1/2 load to go but thought we would wait for me to some clearing up in the house first. The lawn and the garden look fabulous.
Sebastian had 2 birthday parties this weekend, one Saturday and one Sunday. Isaac turned 6 on 31 May. He is Sebastian's very first friend. I met Isaac's mummy, Keeley, at our National Childbirth Trust (NCT) classes and Isaac was the first baby born to the group. Sebastian was the next. Isaac just lives down the road from us.
Abigail is struggling with the idea of not being "invited" to Seb's friend's parties. Not sure how to make this clear to her. she goes to parties on her own that Seb is not invited to but she just thinks everyone should invite her. She through another tantrum today when Seb went off to Hetta's party. Hetta also turned 6 and goes to school with Seb at St George's. Hetta also lives in Old Windsor although a bit further from us (about 1/2 mile). Her house is just down the road from Sir Elton John's house.
I went with the neighbour, Gill, to watch one of her mates, Carol, play lawn bowls. I've never seen the game and it was very enjoyable even to watch. Once I figured out the basics I could easily see how this could be a fun game. It's a bit like curling without the ice. And the lawn is NOT flat which I think would make it doubly difficult. Most of the people playing were older (over 60s) but there were a few youngens. Don't think I'll be taking this up anytime soon though. I've got enough to keep me busy.
Tonight I've got a birthday cake to bake and presents to wrap. At the dinner table I asked Sebastian what tomorrow was. He paused and Abigail jumped in, "It's Shake's birthday!" No moss growing on that stone!
Editor's Note: Shake is Abigail's nickname for Sebastian. Don't ask....we don't know why.
Sebastian had 2 birthday parties this weekend, one Saturday and one Sunday. Isaac turned 6 on 31 May. He is Sebastian's very first friend. I met Isaac's mummy, Keeley, at our National Childbirth Trust (NCT) classes and Isaac was the first baby born to the group. Sebastian was the next. Isaac just lives down the road from us.
Abigail is struggling with the idea of not being "invited" to Seb's friend's parties. Not sure how to make this clear to her. she goes to parties on her own that Seb is not invited to but she just thinks everyone should invite her. She through another tantrum today when Seb went off to Hetta's party. Hetta also turned 6 and goes to school with Seb at St George's. Hetta also lives in Old Windsor although a bit further from us (about 1/2 mile). Her house is just down the road from Sir Elton John's house.
I went with the neighbour, Gill, to watch one of her mates, Carol, play lawn bowls. I've never seen the game and it was very enjoyable even to watch. Once I figured out the basics I could easily see how this could be a fun game. It's a bit like curling without the ice. And the lawn is NOT flat which I think would make it doubly difficult. Most of the people playing were older (over 60s) but there were a few youngens. Don't think I'll be taking this up anytime soon though. I've got enough to keep me busy.
Tonight I've got a birthday cake to bake and presents to wrap. At the dinner table I asked Sebastian what tomorrow was. He paused and Abigail jumped in, "It's Shake's birthday!" No moss growing on that stone!
Editor's Note: Shake is Abigail's nickname for Sebastian. Don't ask....we don't know why.
The Quick Family
If you are a CP blog regular, you've read comments posted by Brooke. If you are related to me you can go check out our family tree on http://www.geni.com/ to see how she's related to you. If you are not related to me, she's a second cousin (or something like that) on my dad's side. She lives in Omaha, NE USA which is where I was born.
Brooke's Dad, Kim, is my dad's cousin but he's only 8 years older than me and I've always been fond of him. Kim used to come from Nebraska to visit his Aunt Joyce, my grandmother, in Denver when I was young. (NOTE: Kim is a man. Yes, I know this is a woman's name. Don't tell him. He's like 6'7" and he works for the Teamsters so he knows people who will kick your booty!) Kim lives with his wife, Brenda, and his two younger daughters, Mary and Bailey in a wee little smalltown in the middle of the USA, Fremont, NE. We are talking corn country!
One year Kim brought his snowmobile out to Denver with him and somehow talked my mother and father into letting him take 3 of us snowmobiling up in the Rocky Mountains. I must have been about 12. Shelby would have been about 10. And George must have been about 8. I don't seem to remember Tyson and Stephanie being there so they must have been to young to go along.
If I was only 12 that means Kim was only 20. Now what would my parent's must have been thinking to let 3 of their children go off with a 20 year old snowmobiling I have no idea! And why would a 20 year old bloke want to take 3 children into the wilderness with him?
We went up into the Rocky Mountain National Park. I seem to recall we went up near Estes Park. Kim would drive the snowmobile around with one of us on the back and leave the other 2 of us in the car. Wouldn't do that nowadays, would you?
Finally, it was nearing the end of the day and I talked Kim into thinking that I was old enough to drive myself. So, he let me! I followed the trail, starting slowly at first but quickly gained confidence and speed. With the wind in my hair, I thought I was just sooooo cool!
Then I hit a hill and the snowmobile jumped. I thought I could keep the blades straight but it didn't quite work out that way. When I landed the blades turned suddenly to the left. I went down a steep hill and landed on a piece of ice. I could see the river rushing past me on both sides. At first, I didn't move. And then I started to shake.
I knew crying wasn't going to help. Screaming wasn't going to help. I tried to restart the snowmobile but it was flooded. I tried to push but it wouldn't budge. I must have weighed 70 pounds, so duh!
I sat down getting rather frightened as the day grew grey with the setting sun. And then I heard voices. I yelled out for help and found 4 cross country skiers at the top of the hill above me.
They took off their skies and slid down the hill. They helped me get the snowmobile off the ice. Who am I kidding. They got the snowmobile off the ice. I just stood there on the shore. They got the engine started and one of the guys drove the snowmobile up the hill.
I climbed aboard, thanked them profusely, and headed back to the car, VERY slowly and cautiously. I arrived expecting Kim to yell and scream at me. but, of course, he didn't know what had happened. he just thought I had been having a blast.
I didn't confess the truth of what happened until years later when I was an adult. But I learned so many lessons that day! All thanks to Kim!
Brooke's Dad, Kim, is my dad's cousin but he's only 8 years older than me and I've always been fond of him. Kim used to come from Nebraska to visit his Aunt Joyce, my grandmother, in Denver when I was young. (NOTE: Kim is a man. Yes, I know this is a woman's name. Don't tell him. He's like 6'7" and he works for the Teamsters so he knows people who will kick your booty!) Kim lives with his wife, Brenda, and his two younger daughters, Mary and Bailey in a wee little smalltown in the middle of the USA, Fremont, NE. We are talking corn country!
One year Kim brought his snowmobile out to Denver with him and somehow talked my mother and father into letting him take 3 of us snowmobiling up in the Rocky Mountains. I must have been about 12. Shelby would have been about 10. And George must have been about 8. I don't seem to remember Tyson and Stephanie being there so they must have been to young to go along.
If I was only 12 that means Kim was only 20. Now what would my parent's must have been thinking to let 3 of their children go off with a 20 year old snowmobiling I have no idea! And why would a 20 year old bloke want to take 3 children into the wilderness with him?
We went up into the Rocky Mountain National Park. I seem to recall we went up near Estes Park. Kim would drive the snowmobile around with one of us on the back and leave the other 2 of us in the car. Wouldn't do that nowadays, would you?
Finally, it was nearing the end of the day and I talked Kim into thinking that I was old enough to drive myself. So, he let me! I followed the trail, starting slowly at first but quickly gained confidence and speed. With the wind in my hair, I thought I was just sooooo cool!
Then I hit a hill and the snowmobile jumped. I thought I could keep the blades straight but it didn't quite work out that way. When I landed the blades turned suddenly to the left. I went down a steep hill and landed on a piece of ice. I could see the river rushing past me on both sides. At first, I didn't move. And then I started to shake.
I knew crying wasn't going to help. Screaming wasn't going to help. I tried to restart the snowmobile but it was flooded. I tried to push but it wouldn't budge. I must have weighed 70 pounds, so duh!
I sat down getting rather frightened as the day grew grey with the setting sun. And then I heard voices. I yelled out for help and found 4 cross country skiers at the top of the hill above me.
They took off their skies and slid down the hill. They helped me get the snowmobile off the ice. Who am I kidding. They got the snowmobile off the ice. I just stood there on the shore. They got the engine started and one of the guys drove the snowmobile up the hill.
I climbed aboard, thanked them profusely, and headed back to the car, VERY slowly and cautiously. I arrived expecting Kim to yell and scream at me. but, of course, he didn't know what had happened. he just thought I had been having a blast.
I didn't confess the truth of what happened until years later when I was an adult. But I learned so many lessons that day! All thanks to Kim!
Saturday, 2 June 2007
Beckonscot Model Railway
Yesterday, Uncle John and Auntie Mary took Sebastian and Abigail to Bekonscot Historic Model Village for the day. Sebastian wanted to hurry hurry hurry through. So they went round twice. The second go round he did a quiz (with a lot of help from Uncle John I reckon).
They got to have McDonalds for lunch, which was very exciting! Abigail has not stopped talking about the ice cream so I reckon that's all she ate.
But I'll never know. They won't divulge any details to me despite my best attempts to get it out of them. I suppose this is how it goes. They need their own private places.
They got to have McDonalds for lunch, which was very exciting! Abigail has not stopped talking about the ice cream so I reckon that's all she ate.
But I'll never know. They won't divulge any details to me despite my best attempts to get it out of them. I suppose this is how it goes. They need their own private places.
Blog Visit Drop Off
May was a slow month for the blog growth. Every month since I started I've seen a huge growth in monthly visits.
Not this month. And yet I did more posts than any other month. I had just 24 unique visits more than last month and 3 less page views. I'm not sure how that happens. And May was a long month. If it hadn't been 31 days long I would have had a drop off last month.
I suspect my domain host is partly to blame. It is currently experiencing some infrastructure issues and not being very reliable. But I'm not sure what else might be causing this.
I've noticed that most people read my blog Monday-Friday. Very few people visit on the weekends. That means people are checking my blog from work. Uh-oh! Or they are just too busy on the weekends. That's OK!
I've got loads more visitors than comments. If you're out there lurking, don't be afraid. Leave me a comment and let me know if I'm talking absolute rubbish. Or if you disagree with me. Or is you think you are completely wasting your time but visiting to be polite. Even my husband never comments. He doesn't even visit! He tells me he knows what goes on in our life so why should he go. I'll bet he'd know a lot more if he visited!
I've also noticed that most of Nebraska appears to read my blog but readership in the UK has really dropped off.
And where are all the men? I know I have male readers....don't I?
Am I boring you? Have you told all your friends about the blog? Do you click through on the Google ad?
OK, not that it matters. I'd probably write even if no one read. I kept a journal from the age of 13 and no one ever read that. But if you are enjoying what I write, let me know. If you're not, tell me what you'd like me to write about. And tell your friends about the site. And they'll tell their friends, and so on and so on.
Not this month. And yet I did more posts than any other month. I had just 24 unique visits more than last month and 3 less page views. I'm not sure how that happens. And May was a long month. If it hadn't been 31 days long I would have had a drop off last month.
I suspect my domain host is partly to blame. It is currently experiencing some infrastructure issues and not being very reliable. But I'm not sure what else might be causing this.
I've noticed that most people read my blog Monday-Friday. Very few people visit on the weekends. That means people are checking my blog from work. Uh-oh! Or they are just too busy on the weekends. That's OK!
I've got loads more visitors than comments. If you're out there lurking, don't be afraid. Leave me a comment and let me know if I'm talking absolute rubbish. Or if you disagree with me. Or is you think you are completely wasting your time but visiting to be polite. Even my husband never comments. He doesn't even visit! He tells me he knows what goes on in our life so why should he go. I'll bet he'd know a lot more if he visited!
I've also noticed that most of Nebraska appears to read my blog but readership in the UK has really dropped off.
And where are all the men? I know I have male readers....don't I?
Am I boring you? Have you told all your friends about the blog? Do you click through on the Google ad?
OK, not that it matters. I'd probably write even if no one read. I kept a journal from the age of 13 and no one ever read that. But if you are enjoying what I write, let me know. If you're not, tell me what you'd like me to write about. And tell your friends about the site. And they'll tell their friends, and so on and so on.
Friday, 1 June 2007
Price Comparison
The other day I posted a cost comparison for UK vs USA petrol prices. Janell, blogger extraordinaire, suggested we do a price comparison of commonly purchased goods. USA prices are courtesy of her blog. I have copied them here for ease of use.
In green is the cost of the item in the UK. The first price is the USA price. Bold denotes the more expensive of the two. It is usually the UK price if you get confused!
Butter $2.85/pound $3.86/pound
Eggs $1.25/dozen $4.18 dozen
Milk $1.88/half gallon $1.15/ half gallon
In US a $1.50 refund for bottle return, so a half gallon actually costs 38 cents
Ground Beef $2.25/lb $4.00/lb 90% lean
(USA) 88% (UK-90% not available)
Hot Dogs $1.25 for 8 $3.36 for 10
Bread $1.25/loaf $2.19/loaf
Pork & Beans .59/can .81/7 oz can
Not available in UK. Price cited is for baked beans
Heavy cream $3.88/quart $2.24/quart
Breakfast cereal $4.00 $4.96
UK price is for Cheerios
Ice cream $3.99/5 quart $6.90/5 quart
UK stored brand vanilla
Fresh halibut steak $12.99/lb $19.95/1 lb
UK Tuna steak given as halibut not available
Beef T-bone steak $5.99/lb $19.69/lb
UK ribeye price given as T-Bone not available
Lettuce .99/head $1.38/head
Cabbage .29/lb .45/lb
UK price for white cabbage
Apples $1.99/lb $2.19/lb
Laundry Soap $2.50 $10.58
USA 40 load liquid UK 33 load liquid
Bath Soap $3.89/4 bars .99/4 bars Olay
Shampoo $3.99/30 oz $18.88/30 oz
Dish Soap $1.89/30 oz $3.92/30 oz
Toothpaste $2.79 .93
Toilet Paper $6.00/12 rolls $7.90/12 rolls
Beer $4.99/6 pack $8.69/6 pack
Good beer $7.99/6 pack $13.18/6 pack
(Took this to mean imported) UK price is for USA Budweiser
Local telephone landline $19.99/month $26/month + calls
UK no calls are free, not even local calls
Cell phone $29.99 w/100 mins $80 w/1000 mins
Electricity $100/month avg $243/month avg
UK includes gas for heating
Propane $1.89/gallon N/A
Not an option in UK
Hay for horses $4.50/bale N/A
Haven’t a clue about costs in UK
Dog food $16.99/40 lb $80/40 lb
Cat food $26.99/40 lb $223.20/40 lb
Both Iams brand
Cat litter $3.99/20 lb $7.60
I have roughly converted metric to imperial and used an approximate current exchange rate of $2=£1. In the USA, sales tax, dependant on local and state rates, is applied at the checkout. In the UK, tax is included in the price. Tax is a flat 17.5% everywhere in the UK. No food products have tax in either country but products like toilet paper, soap, and toothpaste do. Luxury items like beer and tea are taxed at double rate, ie 35%. Also, note many of the large sized items are simply not available in the standard UK supermarket. I have extrapolated mathematically to determine the amounts.
I need to get rid of my cat! And why is soap and toothpaste cheaper here in the UK?
Editor's Note: I worked tirelessly to get this into a table but can't figure out how to paste one into the html. Sorry about the crappy format. I will try to do better next time!
In green is the cost of the item in the UK. The first price is the USA price. Bold denotes the more expensive of the two. It is usually the UK price if you get confused!
Butter $2.85/pound $3.86/pound
Eggs $1.25/dozen $4.18 dozen
Milk $1.88/half gallon $1.15/ half gallon
In US a $1.50 refund for bottle return, so a half gallon actually costs 38 cents
Ground Beef $2.25/lb $4.00/lb 90% lean
(USA) 88% (UK-90% not available)
Hot Dogs $1.25 for 8 $3.36 for 10
Bread $1.25/loaf $2.19/loaf
Pork & Beans .59/can .81/7 oz can
Not available in UK. Price cited is for baked beans
Heavy cream $3.88/quart $2.24/quart
Breakfast cereal $4.00 $4.96
UK price is for Cheerios
Ice cream $3.99/5 quart $6.90/5 quart
UK stored brand vanilla
Fresh halibut steak $12.99/lb $19.95/1 lb
UK Tuna steak given as halibut not available
Beef T-bone steak $5.99/lb $19.69/lb
UK ribeye price given as T-Bone not available
Lettuce .99/head $1.38/head
Cabbage .29/lb .45/lb
UK price for white cabbage
Apples $1.99/lb $2.19/lb
Laundry Soap $2.50 $10.58
USA 40 load liquid UK 33 load liquid
Bath Soap $3.89/4 bars .99/4 bars Olay
Shampoo $3.99/30 oz $18.88/30 oz
Dish Soap $1.89/30 oz $3.92/30 oz
Toothpaste $2.79 .93
Toilet Paper $6.00/12 rolls $7.90/12 rolls
Beer $4.99/6 pack $8.69/6 pack
Good beer $7.99/6 pack $13.18/6 pack
(Took this to mean imported) UK price is for USA Budweiser
Local telephone landline $19.99/month $26/month + calls
UK no calls are free, not even local calls
Cell phone $29.99 w/100 mins $80 w/1000 mins
Electricity $100/month avg $243/month avg
UK includes gas for heating
Propane $1.89/gallon N/A
Not an option in UK
Hay for horses $4.50/bale N/A
Haven’t a clue about costs in UK
Dog food $16.99/40 lb $80/40 lb
Cat food $26.99/40 lb $223.20/40 lb
Both Iams brand
Cat litter $3.99/20 lb $7.60
I have roughly converted metric to imperial and used an approximate current exchange rate of $2=£1. In the USA, sales tax, dependant on local and state rates, is applied at the checkout. In the UK, tax is included in the price. Tax is a flat 17.5% everywhere in the UK. No food products have tax in either country but products like toilet paper, soap, and toothpaste do. Luxury items like beer and tea are taxed at double rate, ie 35%. Also, note many of the large sized items are simply not available in the standard UK supermarket. I have extrapolated mathematically to determine the amounts.
I need to get rid of my cat! And why is soap and toothpaste cheaper here in the UK?
Editor's Note: I worked tirelessly to get this into a table but can't figure out how to paste one into the html. Sorry about the crappy format. I will try to do better next time!
Motherhood
A strange and wonderful journey that is wholly unpredictable and out of your control overtakes your life when you make the decision to become a mother. An alien suite of emotions invade your mind and body. If you are lucky you have words to describe those emotions. I am not. There is no word in the English language that sufficiently describes the lengths to which I would go to protect my daughter. Or the mountains I would move to help my son. Or the pain I feel when they are disappointed or afraid. Where did this all come from? Where was it before I felt it? Does every parent suffer so?
A friend of mine reminded me recently of the time immediately following Sebastian's birth when she and her husband visited us from the USA. She recalls that I was adamant about how the addition of this baby to our lives was not going to dramatically change our life. We would just add the baby to our existing life framework.
I, of course, have no recollection of this. But I don't doubt that it is true. I think at the time I imagined parenthood as the giving up of oneself and the antithesis of everything I was about. I was LaDawn, an individual. No one no how was going to alter this person I had worked so hard to become. Dependent on no one and no one dependent on me. Able to stay out all night long or stay in bed all day long. Able to travel any where in the world at a moment's notice. Never look at the price tags of desired objects. Hear me roar.
But when you become a mother this surrender of self is less to do with giving something up and more about becoming something else.
I never imagined that I would find joy in watching my children play together. I never imagined I would feel ecstasy over a perfect spelling test score (his not mine) after a week of hard work (both of ours). I didn't know how exquisite it would feel to have tiny, warm, soft, strong hands and arms encircle my neck and hang on tight as her eyes drooped shut after a long hard day at play.
The sacrifices are enormous. Some days my brain is mush from playing Power Rangers. I am forever cleaning up Play Doh from every crevice of my home. I can't afford to get weekly manicures or massages. I invest in my children's education and future. The returns on this investment are gigantic although probably not measurable.
I like who I am today. And I love the person my children have made me.
A friend of mine reminded me recently of the time immediately following Sebastian's birth when she and her husband visited us from the USA. She recalls that I was adamant about how the addition of this baby to our lives was not going to dramatically change our life. We would just add the baby to our existing life framework.
I, of course, have no recollection of this. But I don't doubt that it is true. I think at the time I imagined parenthood as the giving up of oneself and the antithesis of everything I was about. I was LaDawn, an individual. No one no how was going to alter this person I had worked so hard to become. Dependent on no one and no one dependent on me. Able to stay out all night long or stay in bed all day long. Able to travel any where in the world at a moment's notice. Never look at the price tags of desired objects. Hear me roar.
But when you become a mother this surrender of self is less to do with giving something up and more about becoming something else.
I never imagined that I would find joy in watching my children play together. I never imagined I would feel ecstasy over a perfect spelling test score (his not mine) after a week of hard work (both of ours). I didn't know how exquisite it would feel to have tiny, warm, soft, strong hands and arms encircle my neck and hang on tight as her eyes drooped shut after a long hard day at play.
The sacrifices are enormous. Some days my brain is mush from playing Power Rangers. I am forever cleaning up Play Doh from every crevice of my home. I can't afford to get weekly manicures or massages. I invest in my children's education and future. The returns on this investment are gigantic although probably not measurable.
I like who I am today. And I love the person my children have made me.
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