Kid Conversations

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Bart: Daddy, were you actually sick on Wednesday?

Jay: Yes I was.

Bart: Why does it hurt your throat when you are sick?

Jay: I think it is the stomach acids coming back up. They shouldn’t be in your throat and so they hurt when they are.

Bart: It’s like a cup of tea in the fire.

Jay: Ummmm…. okay…. what?

Bart: Stomach acid in your throat is like a cup of tea in the fire. It shouldnt be there.

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The Queen of Observation

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My excuse?

After the dentist trip on Wednesday I wasnt feeling my best. Although the dental procedure itself wasnt painful, I can’t help but tense up when I am lying upside-down in a chair with a bunch of foreign objects shoved in my mouth. (Hmm, I think there maybe a script for a porn movie there somewhere.)

When I got home there was a headache slowly brewing at the base of my skull (which finally kicked in later that evening) and so my observation skills were not at their best.

But still.

I had been home nearly three hours and it was close to time to head down the track and meet the girls off the school bus when I went upstairs to get my iPod. Imagine my surprise to find a man in my bed!

Jay had been sent home sick from work that morning, gotten in the house and gone straight to bed.

No, I didn’t notice his car parked outside the house. No, I didnt really register his work bag on the kitchen table. No, I didnt spot his lunch box on the top shelf inside the fridge.

I did think he had forgotten his milk when I saw it in the door of the fridge. And I did wonder why the dog kept going upstairs to sleep rather than keep me company, but just thought he had found a fabulous patch of sunshine to bask in.

And the winner of the World Worst Wife Award goes to…

Thick Lip

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This morning came with a trip to the dentist. Oh joy.

When I had my check up last month I had some x-rays taken ( I wonder how old I have to be before I am not asked if there is any chance I am pregnant?) and although visually my teeth looked fine, the x-ray showed up a dark mass in one tooth that meant decay. So today after waving the kids off on the school bus, I jumped in the car and drove the forty-five minute trip to where the dental practice was located.

The procedure itself was pretty straight forward (thank goodness) and an injection was administered first to numb any potential pain. I was in and out of the chair within half an hour, which was great, it’s just I hate that feeling you are left with afterwards. You know, when it seems as though you lip is swollen up to six times its normal size, you sound as though you are three sheets to the wind and don’t even try to eat or drink anything or you will end up wearing it!

Thankfully that thick lip feeling only lasts a couple of hours and by the time I had popped into Fat Face (ha ha) to by a cardigan and driven home again, the feeling had pretty much worn off.

And Its Gone

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“Muuuuuummmmmm!” AJ yelled as she charged through the house to find me this morning, “The Sky TV has gone!”

“It really has!” Bart skidded to a stop behind her and I do mean skidded. I checked her sock covered feet and saw her bloody slippers were missing again. “We were halfway through watching Princess Sofia and it switched off.”

“Why are you surprised?” I asked them both, “I told you it was going today.”

“But we didn’t think you meant it.” AJ said “We thought you were pretending to talk to someone when you said the lady from Sky was on the telephone and you were only saying it was cancelled to stop us arguing!”

“Nope. I really spoke to someone and it’s really gone.”

“Oh,” Bart looked totally crestfallen. The pair of them walked dejectedly back to the living room.

“And put your slippers on!” I yelled after them.

 

 

The Cost Of Losing Pounds

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It was 9th September 2015 when I plucked up the courage and walked into my first Slimming World session. I was nervous, apprehensive and really didn’t know if it would work for me. But I was also determined to make changes within myself and give this the best go I could.

So almost twelve months later I am 4st 9lb (65lb) lighter in weight and a whole lot lighter in cash.

I don’t regret the money I have spent on attending the weekly class, because without going along each Wednesday evening, sitting in on the class talk and joining in with the image therapy, I don’t believe I would have achieved the loss that I have. It’s the other costs which are sometimes astounding.

My weekly food bill for instance. Eating healthier choices isn’t cheap! The fresh fruit and vegetables alone usually take up half the shopping trolley now a days. I do tend to shop around for the fresh stuff, bouncing between four different stores to get the best value for the best quality and isn’t that a fun way to spend a Saturday morning. (Which is why this Saturday Jay had us all up, dressed and travelling into town before 8am and the crowds descended!) And buying the lowest fat option on meat can be expensive too. The breadcrumb covered chopped and reformed chicken is totally off the menu now along with most of the pre-packaged selections.

And clothes. Don’t get me wrong, I love clothes, but damn, I have had to replace everything! My boobs have gone from a 42FF to a 38D. I have gone from a UK size 22/24 top to a 16 and my jeans have shrunk from a UK 20 to a 10/12.

I had kind of ignored how baggy everything was getting for a while, but when my underwear was falling down under my trousers and those trousers, unless belted would slip to my ankles I knew it was time to replace stuff.

Has it all been worth it? Most definitly. I feel healthier. I have more energy and don’t suffer with pain in my knees anymore. I have a lot more confidence in the way I look. Hell. I even went and got my hair cut!

I may have to start selling on eBay or do a car boot stall with my big clothes to claw back some of the money I’ve spent, but I am so pleased I walked into the Scout hall that night sat myself down and asked for help.Then and now

Great Grandmothers Mixing Bowl

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mixing bowl.jpgFor the last twelve months, since I started my healthy eating plan, cake baking has gone out the window. Jay and the girls still get to eat treats, but they are shop bought as I don’t tend to make them anymore as I am sure I would scoff far too many if I did.

Today with me supervising from the other side of the kitchen table, Jay and the girls decided they were going to make some chocolate chip muffins. We had picked up various baking ingredients while out grocery shopping, minus the Stork that Jay and AJ went back out and bought later in the day.

When all the ingredients were gathered together, the girls began to search for my mixing bowl, but nobody could find it. So Jay reached into the back of the cupboard and pulled out the large brown bowl that has once belonged to his Grandmother.

Jay: We have to be very careful with this bowl when making the cakes because it belonged to my Nan.

AJ: Do you mean Grandma?

Jay: No, it was Grandma’s Mummy’s mixing bowl. If you look on the bottom, it says it was made in 1969. That was the year before I was born, so this bowl is a whole year older than me.

Bart: Whoa! That’s really old!

Kids. They know how to make you feel great.

For The Chop

I had a “brave” moment this week and sat myself down in the hairdressers chair. To say my mop was a mess was putting it mildly and as I tried to remember the last time I had it cut, my time deductions took me back at least two years, or probably nearer three.

I just don’t like getting my hair cut.

I have had some pretty bad cuts in my time and one even had me in tears once, but I am the kind of personwp-1472905734243.jpg that when I want my hair cut, I want it done now, which with any good hairdresser is not possible. This time I had to wait a week before my appointment came around and I spent the whole time agonising if I should go ahead or just cancel.

As the time to head out got closer, I was still wavering between having the bare minimum trimmed off the ends or having the whole lot hacked off, but in the end I did neither too much or too little and had about three inches taken off all the way around.

So this will probably be it for another couple of years or until I get a mad idea in my head and take the lot off!

 

When A Mum Won’t Do.

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When you are a little girl, there are certain things that only a Daddy can do. It’s not that a Mummy can’t do them, it’s just that to a little girl, Daddy can do them better.

As AJ and Bart get older I find it fascinating that two thing I loved my Dad to do for me are the same thing my girls want Jay to do for them.

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Dad, my sisters and I around 1976 (I am on the left with the pale blue dress and red shoes)

One is polishing shoes. I remember my Dad showing me how to apply the polish, then brushing and buffing the leather until it shone. Jay has given the girls the same lesson, but there is nothing like a newly polished pair of school shoes that Daddy has taken the time and effort to do. I would walk with my shoulders a  little straighter and a little more pride in my step on those mornings I had beautifully polished shoes on my feet that Dad had done.

Bart is taking such care of her school shoes this year. They are normally badly scuffed within the first couple of days, but one week in and they still look fabulous. Although it was a little worrying the other day when she came home and told us she had gotten a scratch on them. Upon inspection neither Jay or I could see any evidence of the afore-mentioned scratch.

“Oh,” Bart casually said “It disappeared after I licked it. My teacher showed my how.”

WHAT?!

Upon explanation, we found out Bart’s new teacher had shown her how to slightly dampen her finger with spit and then rub her shoe over the scratch. Still gross, but a least the image of Bart holding her shoe like and ice cream and giving it a huge lick was suppressed… kind of.Jay and Girls.jpg

Monday morning when Jay had the polish out for his work boots, (yes, he does polish his scruffy, steel toe capped work boots) Bart sidled up to him with her new school footwear in her hands, batting her eyelashes. I couldn’t help the nostalgia flowing through me. Of course Jay did hers as well. Who can resist a little girl looking at you as though you are a boot brush wielding hero?

The other evening Jay had been called upstairs by Bart. When he got there she wanted him to shake out her duvet and tuck it around her. AJ too, likes Jay to take the time to tuck her in and make sure her toes are fully covered by the duvet. Again I completely understood.

I loved it when my Dad tucked me in. Sometimes I would deliberately wreck my bed until the blankets were on the floor, then call Dad until he came upstairs and remade it. He would tuck me in so tight I could hardly move. It was the best feeling.

Daddies and their little girls. It is such a special bond.