Trouble in ze burrow...

(Aftermath of sibling argument which did not reflect well on eldest)
Me: You can go now. But you need to do something first don't you?
Ethan: (Nods)
Me: You need to go and say sorry to Jackson, don't you?
Ethan: (Nods again)
Me: Why?
Ethan: (Blank stare into my eyes).
Me: You know why, don't you?
Ethan: (Blank stare continues)
Me: I'm not getting on at you. I just need to know (hold his head in both my hands) how this brain works. Cause I don't understand how it thinks...
Ethan/Big Paw Meerkat: If you do that to theez brain eet only eez making it angry.
Muzzar Meerkat: (Drops paws from his head) Oh- I am not wishing to anger eet... Perhaps I love eet instead? (kiss his forehead)
Big Paw Meerkat: (Shocked expression) If you arr doing theez a fuse weel blow and thee brain weel explode!
Muzzar Meerkat: Hmm. Perhaps maybes you weel just say sorry to yor bruzzar and we weel not discuz it furzar?
Big Paw Meerkat: Theez would be much bettar. I go now and see heem.
Muzzar Meerkat: Thanking you

(Psychologists could have a field day analysing our family....)

Merry New Year x

Despite hailing from North of the border, I don’t like many things that are inherently associated with my homeland. Haggis. Whiskey. Rab C Nesbit. Deep-fried Mars bars. And New Year. (I’ve actually had my heritage questioned in the past because of these aversions). I also struggle to remember when Burns night is, which does not help.

The worst has to be New Year. I have always found this to be a depressing time. As a child this signifies the end of the festive season, next Christmas is positively a lifetime away and the only thing to look forward to is the possibility of snow/the school heating system packing up/any other unplanned occurrence which necessitates school closure for a few more days.


However, I can remember vividly when my New Year aversion plunged to new depths. I was 6 years old and had just worked out (all on my own) that just as the days of the week repeated themselves in an endless loop, so the months of the year also came round again in (slightly longer) endless cycles. I used this knowledge and understanding of the world and concluded that the years must likewise come round again eventually- at some point – if one waited long enough. I brightly enquired of my parents when it would be 1978 again, honestly expecting confirmation of my logic and an approximate timescale.

Instead I was told the devastating news that it would NEVER be 1978 again. Ever. 1978 was as good as dead. The year had come and gone (well- there were maybe 3 hours left) and the millions of moments, both good and bad that had collectively created it would never be repeated. Not even if we waited a  r e a l l y long time.

I was numb with shock. 1978 was almost over and would never be back again! The implications were just astounding: I would never have my 6th birthday again. I would never have Mrs Bonelli as my teacher (unless she moved up a class). I think I may have cried a little bit. I really liked Mrs Bonelli. (And it was WAY past my bedtime) The synapses whizzed across my brain as I processed this new information, and the significance it brought.

So time moves forwards.
Always.
And once you’re on the conveyor belt you stay on it until you die- getting older all the time.

This made no sense to me whatsoever. Even as I processed this, people were actively celebrating New Year and being all happy about 1978 being dead and gone forever –didn’t they know how this works for goodness sake??

Fwd 30+ years on... and I still love Love LOVE Christmas (the incarnation gets more and more wonderful and astounding to me every year. Why God, why? What a risk. What a de-motion. Seriously. But I SO love you for it…)

And I have come to accept and appreciate New Year, sharing many of them with some ace friends who tolerate all-nighters of pictionary, uno and wine. I understand why people celebrate. Family being together. Friendships. Reflection. Making plans. Looking forward to new things. Having a legitimate excuse for a bender. All that stuff.

I still don’t like it though and THINK it’s because I’m rebelling against the flow of time which is out of sync with my soul (I want heaven now!!) I could never have articulated it at 6 years old, but am sure I realised that day- I am not meant for this world.

‘If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world. If none of my earthly pleasures satisfy it, that does not prove that the universe is a fraud. Probably earthly pleasures were never meant to satisfy it, but only to arouse it, to suggest the real thing. If that is so, I must take care, on the one hand, never to despise, or be unthankful for, these earthly blessings, and on the other, never to mistake them for the something else of which they are only a copy, or echo, or mirage. I must keep alive in myself the desire for my true country, which I shall not find till after death; I must never let it get snowed under or turned aside; I must make it the main objective of life to press on to that other country and to help others do the same.’ CS Lewis

PS. ‘He that but looketh on a plate of ham and eggs to lust after it hath already committed breakfast with it in his heart.’ (LOVE it…)

MERRY NEW YEAR people x

When Jackson feeds the cat...

Cooking thing

Have just experienced a rare burst of food-related domestic activity, triggered by the 2 drawers of wilting Able & Cole veg in the fridge. I might even have enjoyed it had it not taken 3 hours. 

Anyway freezer now contains bolognase sauce, 2 batches pasta sauces and a dozen beetroot & chocolate brownies (4x tomatoes, 6x onions, 6x bits garlic, 4x medium beetroot, 1x fennel and lots of obscure veg which the kids won’t eat in it’s complete form). 

Tea tonight: made up thing (2x onions, potatoes & MASSIVE cabbage covered in cheese sauce) & sausages with the lovely Jennie Whitworth Edwards who was pleasantly surprised with the cabbage experiment.

Birthday crusts and caviar

2011 has become quite unique. Keith and I have actually managed to SEE each other for BOTH our birthdays. I honestly cannot remember the last time this happened. Unfortunately both days were also spent away from the kids, but hey ho- you can’t have everything.

The 2 days in question could not have been more different (aside from the heat, long hours and copious fluids).

Mine: Worked 14 hours together in air conditioned 4-star hotel in Barcelona with tea and coffee on demand (via a magic phone on my desk) finishing off evening with gala dinner meal that was so posh I had to google the menu later back in hotel room as I had not recognised anything I’d eaten. Excellent wine in a strangely self re-filling glass that did not run out. I was careful. (I have been tricked by such self re-filling glasses before).

Keith’s: Worked 14 hours together in hot and sweaty field in Norfolk where we were delivering a youth festival. Tea, coffee and squash on tap in the staff tent (Thank you Bev and Mike), finishing off with birthday cake and lukewarm diet coke in office tent at midnight, having spent most of the evening sweeping the shower and toilet trailers, stocking up the bog roll and hand towels, unblocking 3 toilets and emptying all the bins.

Both days were fun and are connected with 2 very different organisations, who are great to work with. But I am so aware of BEING aware of these different experiences because it makes me a bit shallower than I’d like to be. I want to not even notice the difference between crusts and caviar.

Unsafe sex

Am disturbed that salted peanuts are right next to condoms in mini-bar. Surely this is bad for the latex?

Middle Age

I am slowly coming to the conclusion that I am old. I have lots of grey hair. I make an involuntary 'Uhh' noise when rising from a comfy chair if I’ve been there a while, and in the last 18 months I have acquired a part denture and the inability to focus on close up stuff when I’m tired. (For these last 2 I blame Wales) None of these things make me feel old though.

I feel old because of things like this: 
A conversation on way to school other day, scene involves me, 3 kids, assorted baggage and 1x bike which they share on way to school. (Long story, involving class sizes, moving house mid-school year and an overall sovereign plan which I know exists but don’t understand yet).

J: Mum, can you slow down, I can’t carry all my stuff (1x book bag + 1x lunch box) and hold up these at the same time.

Me: What’s ‘these?’

J (incredulously): My trousers!
 
Demonstrates his need to hold ‘these’ up, and they promptly drop to his knees in the street, attracting stares from passing motorists.

Me: Where’s your belt?

J: I don’t have one.

Me: Why not?

J: I dunno. I forgot.

Me: But when you put those trousers on this morning, didn’t you realise they were falling down?

J: Well, yeah… But I was busy.

Me: Doing WHAT?

J: Y’know. Getting breakfast. And playing lego….

Me: Oh I see

And in that moment I DID see. He’s 7 years old. Life’s complicated enough remembering to feed oneself and get in some construction time before the school run (or run/cycle/run) without the added pressure of dressing securely.

I can no longer remember a time in my life when my main source of concern was eating as fast as I could so I could get in more play time.

Last week I actually forfeited a whole night of sleep amending a 280 page book in order to meet a print deadline. At 4am I decided NOT to go to bed before the school run, or I’d never get up for it. So I constructed an interplanetary lego docking station for the many MANY lego spaceships which are in various stages of completion by one of the kids. Or I would have done if I were not old.

Instead I tumble dried a load of washing and folded and ironed the backlog of dry stuff from the weekend. Then I put it all away (quietly). Then I made a massive pot of custard for breakfast. A little unorthodox I know, but we love it and we had loads of milk that morning.

And this is why I am getting old.

Home schooling

A history lesson in Clas Ohlson. Kids were hypnotised by large spinning black disc for 10 whole minutes...