Sometimes i wonder if perhaps my blog focuses too much on the down sides of parenthood, that i talk too much about the frustrating aspects of my children. But then i think ‘hey they provide the material, if they want to be painted in a more positive light then perhaps they should stop being such little @#*&!’s.’
I jest of course (a bit) and there are days when i really don’t have a jot to complain about. The suns recent show stopping performances have been leaving everybody in a very bright mood. For us its a chance to have a perfect kind of day.
A mosey along down to the seaside.
The Christmas tree rules in our house are as follows – Real tree, big as you you like, absolutely no colour co-ordination, star on top and all decorations welcome!
The cute and the colourful
**Well actually it was more like 14 months ago but it didn’t have quite the same ring to it as a title so sue me ;)**
This time ‘just over’ a year ago we were jetting off on holiday to Cyprus. Septembers final fling with the diabolical summer that we had.
A chance for F to experience his first true taste of beach life, far away from the cold grey waters of home. A chance for us to spend so much time in and out of the water that we hardly have any shots of us in clothes.
I grew up by the seaside. In the summer holidays we went to the beach pretty much everyday and spent a lot of that time messing about on lilo’s in the waves. In my head is was always hot and sunny although my mum tells me it really wasn’t.
Days by the sea make me think of Cornetto’s, hot tar pavements burning your feet, the hum of planes in the sky, the yes and no game, salt and vinegar smells in the air from the chip stalls, greengages, egg sandwiches, Robinsons squash warmed by the sun, Nina’s gift shop, lilo surfing and Mint Feasts. Happy times.
I can hardly bear to watch this rubbish but i do, every bloody Saturday, because I’m just a crowd following, wine drinking zombie.
I find myself shouting at the TV like a loon, i find myself developing an intense dislike for people i have never even met, i find myself willing people to fail because it makes for more interesting TV, i find myself enjoying the elimination because – you know what, life’s a bitch and sometimes you just gotta deal with that.
What really bewilders me and makes me extra shouty is the pre-recorded clips.
‘I’ve wanted to be a pop star since i was 6 months old bla bla bla’ – cue image of contestant performing at a family BBQ. Can’t everyone dig out one pathetic photo of them dressed in 80’s pop star ensemble holding a hair brush? Didn’t everyone want to be a pop star at some point?
I drink more now that i have children.
Kids in bed, feet up, glass of wine. That’s how it goes.
It’s a marker for the end of the day. A treat – a pat on the back for getting through it.
It’s not to get drunk and it’s usually only a glass – it’s the frequency that’s the problem. Well, is it a problem? I don’t know.
I do know that It’s a psychological crutch. I have the same thing with coffee in the mornings; If I’ve had a bad nights sleep i say to myself ‘it doesn’t matter, have a coffee and you’ll be ok’. In the same way if I’m having a bad day i say to myself ‘it doesn’t matter, nearly bath time, then you can relax with a glass of (insert name of alcoholic beverage)’.