Never a dull moment

It just doesn’t let up, does it? This mother stuff … but it’s all good fun – most of the time.

I’m currently dealing with career matters and it’s been challenging to say the least. I’ve got one who has gone from medicine to media in the space of a week, one who wants to be an actress, one tossing up between professional pianist and street dancer and one who is going to be a mermaid!

Joy!

On a different note, the Hyatt family has indeed been enlightened. The wisdom of 11-year-olds has dictated that indeed Steinway pianos are ‘absolute rubbish’ (his words)! Who can argue with that? Apart from 99.9% of the population – but try telling that to a stubborn kid who’s just messed up his scales in an audition because the action of the Steinway is so different from his own piano!!!

And did you know that the Cutty Sark doesn’t sit on the Thames? Nope. Greenwich, I’ll have you know – looks over the Nile!  Yes … don’t start me on education these days. I’ve been watching with some kind of horrid fascination as my primary school bunch have come home with various projects and bits of homework on Africa, India, WWII, WWI, various sporting celebrities and the occasional film star. All very interesting – but wouldn’t the country they’re living in be a good place to start? Give them a blank map of Europe and they can’t point to a single country and name it. Give them a map of Britain and ask them to fill in London and Glasgow – what a laugh! And as for Wales – is that a country or a city???????

I’ll stop there. Like I said – sore subject.

But at least I can rest easy that I won’t have to fork out thousands of pounds on a crappy old Steinway piano, eh?? LOL

Tags: education, map, mother, parenthood, piano, primary, steinway

‘Sno good!

Oh, it’s all very pretty when you live in a country that doesn’t come to a standstill at the sight of a snowflake, but this is completely ridiculous!!!!! But I’m not going to start on that now because I’ll just get all het up and flustered – again!!

Meanwhile, back at the ranch …

I can’t believe I’ve got a 16-year-old son! My God, where does time go? And that is SUCH an old-person sort of a thing to say that I’m truly embarrassed. It’s surely on a par with ‘We made very good time on the trip back from X’. Dear, oh dear. Next it’ll be Complan and Rich Tea biccies. Maybe I’m not looking forward to this year as much as I thought I was.

Nah! That’s a lie. Honestly, I have great hopes for this year and I plan to enjoy every minute – just as soon as this migraine goes away and I get my neck injury sorted out. What a wonderful way to start, eh? I wouldn’t mind so much but I have no idea what the hell I did to my neck – only that it’s causing me agony and a lot of sleepless nights (and you know it must be bad when I can’t get to sleep!). The migraine may or may not be linked, but I can deal with the migraine and I’m just kicking myself because it could have been avoided if I’d just made myself a few decent juices. I haven’t had a single migraine since I discovered the miracle of juicing – but then something called Christmas got in the way.

And speaking of Christmas – I had so much fun – all on my owney-ohs – one lovely morning right before the festivities began. I took part in Brighton’s Santa Dash – a 5k charity run along the seafront where EVERYBODY dresses as Santa. It was so much fun. Suits (one size fits all) were provided, complete with beards, belts, etc. etc. and everyone dashed, sauntered, sprinted, wandered or hobbled the whole 5k. Jollity abounded and it was quite spectacular to see the large red ‘blob’ of people dispersing at the end, too. Karim, Caitriona and Rebecca came down to cheer me on but on the way home I realised I’d lost my sun glasses (yes, the sun was shining – remember that? Sunshine?). I wandered back, still in Santa suit, to see if I could find them and yes, the organisers had picked them up for me. So all was going wonderfully. I sauntered along the seafront – the last of the runners by this time – when a young man approached me with a question and I simply couldn’t help being struck by a moment of sheer devilment …

“Excuse me,” he said. “Do you know anything about a charity Santa dash being run on the seafront today?”

Now, bear in mind, please, that I was still dressed none too discreetly in full Santa Claus costume – so, I mean, what could I possibly reply, only

“Sorry? A what? A Santa run? No. Sorry. Don’t know anything about it.” At which point I simply left him and carried on walking, chuckling away to myself. About a hundred yards further on, I turned back and sneaked a peak. He was still looking at me, poor chap. Marvellous.

Anyway, I just had to share that with you. I had such a giggle. And now, unfortunately, I have to dash off myself – partly because we’re going out to dinner and partly because I can’t remember the other story I was going to recount. (Phew, I hear you say?)

Never fear. I’ll be back! (Now where have I heard that before???)

The Morning After

Oopsies! It simply doesn’t bode well for the day when you find yourself yelling ‘STOP BEHAVING LIKE BLOODY CHILDREN’ – at the children! And it’s not even 9 a.m. So things can only get better, right? Good, then. Ashamedly, it reminds me of the time I yelled at poor Chris to stop whining and grow up! I think he was three years old at the time! What a bad parent I am. I often wonder how my children made it this far. They must be very resilient.

Of course, in terms of today, I could lean on the old ‘I’m tired’ excuse – and attempt to get away with murder, what with a late night and all that. Sad, isn’t it? It wasn’t even that late – but anything after 10 p.m. seems to be classed as a late night these days. God, I’m getting old. When Karim woke this morning I tried to tell him that I’d been to the gym and come back to bed afterwards.

He didn’t believe me.

I think he’s forgiven me for last night. Not that I did anything wrong – except include him in the invitation and force him to come along with me to the Weight Watchers Christmas dinner dance. Boy, was he dreading it, but you can’t blame him, can you? I can only imagine the pictures he had in his head at what a ‘Weight Watchers Christmas dinner’ might entail. I’m happy to report that he survived the occasion and even went so far as to have fun!! Not least because he was sitting beside the gorgeous Laura all evening (and I have to include plenty of praise for Laura, who organized every detail all on her own).

Now – to be clear, we – the Weight Watchers leaders and partners – weren’t the only people in the room. We just had a few tables. The rest were occupied by hairdressers, bankers, opticians (I couldn’t see where they were!) and even gymnasts, who yes, indeed, caused some hilarity by starting a trend of squirming through the centre-table decoration in hulahoop fashion – a trend that willing participants at other tables tried to emulate, to varying degrees of success (or not). And no, I wasn’t one of them. For the rest, it was all terribly well-behaved. Only one bottle of wine got thrown across our table – and fortunately it was white wine so it didn’t affect my consumption LOL – and the butter only landed in my wine glass ONCE! Can you believe that? How lucky was I! (OK – don’t ask!)

The highlight of the night, though, was definitely the moment when the dance music (did I say ‘music’? Yep! Definitely getting old) started up. Well, a couples ‘do’ it may have been, but I tell you skirts were ripped, toes lacerated with stilletoes and boobs did their best to escape captivity in the stampede to the dance floor as soon as that first number started up – and all the men left looking abandoned and bemused, mid-sentence and still sitting at their tables. It was fascinating.

And then, of course, it was the best time of evening. You know, when you turn your chair around and get the chance to properly sit and people-watch? My word! How many people in this world not only have no mirrors but NO FRIENDS!!! Granted, I have to say that unlike the party I was at the previous week, I really only spotted about three completely friendless ladies in indescribably badly-chosen clothing. I’m sure they were probably saying the same about me – although maybe not. They were probably nice people – unlike me!! And whereas the previous week it took me several minutes to spot even one person on the dance floor who wasn’t grossly overweight, it was actually very comforting to see so many people simply looking gorgeous and having a great time. There was only one lady in the room who, I have to admit, you couldn’t have missed even if you’d tried. But you know what? She was so noticeably comfortable in herself that you couldn’t even make politically incorrect jokes about her. Naturally, being a Weight Watchers leader, we do tend to spot people who really need help. That’s our job! But this lady didn’t and it was really quite humbling. Now … I’ve had to delete the rest of this paragraph because it might have been taken up quite the wrong way. Very deep water and all that …

Karim hates these forcibly-thrown-together evenings, but I have to admit that from my perspective this was one that was extremely stress-free and it was a lovely opportunity to catch up with a few faces that I hadn’t seen for several weeks/months. More applause for Laura. Thank you. (And ladies – you looked STUNNING!!!)

Oh – and Dawn? Don’t think I didn’t see your jaw drop as you spotted those stilettos! Yep! I saw them, too. Amazing, weren’t they?

Now … Oh my goodness! Look at the time! It’s LUNCHTIME! Yay!

Star struck

No, no! Not me, silly! Would I ever be starstruck? Well, with the exception of Johnny Depp walking into my living room (oh, the very thought – best go and lie down a minute!)

Now – where was I? Ah yes. I just had to share a couple of almost simultaneous texts I got from my two eldest children that really made me giggle. I mean – is it a boy thing, a girl thing? An age thing? A maturity thing? Don’t get me wrong, both kids were REALLY excited. In fact, I shall leave it up to you to decide who sent which text …

Text No. 1: Ian McKellen is in school today!

Text No. 2: Gandalf is in school today!

And God made …

Church schooling might have a lot going for it, but don’t you just love it when it falls a bit short?  I caught a great conversation the other day between my Rebecca (8) and Sebastian (11). Rebecca, always curious, was contemplating the family tree. She’d just worked out that every mummy must have a mummy – so where did the very first mummy come from? A valid question, no doubt about it. Before I had time to answer, Sebastian popped his head up from behind his game cube and offered his wisdom.

‘Monkeys, Rebecca’, he said. ‘Before we were mums and dads, we were monkeys.’

I was actually quite impressed at his knowledge of evolution. Then he continued …

‘But not everybody believes we came from monkeys. Lots of people – and especially the people at your school – believe that God created the first man and woman and called them Romeo and Juliet!’

Tags: evolution, God, Juliet, monkeys, Romeo

So Proud

My children never cease to amaze me. I mean, I almost feel guilty writing this particular post because all four of them are constantly making me proud, but this one was a first and I think it definitely deserves a mention.

Dealing with death is not something you wish on any child, is it? C lost her granny a couple of years ago and she really felt the loss for the very first time. Actually, my heart went out to her then if only because I think she was the only one who particularly grieved. Not to put a finer point on things, but Granny wasn’t the No. 1 Favourite – nor was she any good with children – but she had a special place for C which is not to be mocked or left unsaid. Points for that one, Mum.

But I digress, because it’s not about my mother that I want to talk. In fact, it’s about a very little animal that I’ve been jesting about in a previous post – and if C ever reads this, she needs to know that my mockery was certainly not about her, her situation OR her little hamster, Tribble. I’ve already praised her for looking after him so well. I never once had to tell her to feed him, water him or clean his cage. It was always already done, so full marks there, C. She looked after him and she loved him. Her first pet of her very own.

But even first pet’s die and I was amazed at how well she handled it and I’m so proud that she’s so mature and grown-up, in a situation where she really didn’t have to be. She could have stamped her feet, roared, refused to go to school, demanded a replacement … all of those things. But no! Instead, after 24 hours of wondering if he was dead or hibernating (see previous post on the evolution of hamsters) she admitted all of her own accord that he was in fact, dead and there was little point in taking him to a vet for confirmation. Not only that, but she insisted on burying him herself. She dug the earth, laid him very gently in a snug pile of hamster bedding, covered him up and simply stayed with him for a little while to say goodbye.

So it was only a hamster? I don’t agree with that at all, because it wasn’t about the hamster. Not really. It was about one child’s very personal experience with loss, with the inevitable guilt that comes with it, with the sadness and the ’shortness’ of life.

I know it’s not the same as losing a close relative, but it was a very big deal and I am truly proud!

Hamsters – what the books don’t say

If they’re still in 3D format, they’re probably hibernating.

If they’ve reverted to an environmentally-friendly sort of flat-pack format, then they’re probably dead.

So …

Cute + flat = Dead.

Harsh, but true.

Evolution – Hamsters next to go?

Oh yes. If we’re going to talk about evolution in terms of survival of the fittest, then hamsters have just got to be on the hit list for forthcoming extinction. They have to be.

‘Oh no!’ I hear you shout. ‘Not the humble hamster?’

Well, I’d never have thought it either – until this morning. But to fully understand the situation we need to step back in time all the way to last night. It was ten o’clock, upstairs was in darkness, the TV was on downstairs (I know that because I was watching it!). Suddenly … creak, creak, sniffle, creak and … my eldest daughter appears in the doorway with a small bundle in her hands which she was trying to drown in tears. No. Hang on. She couldn’t drown him because he was already dead! Oh, dear. Well, as you can imagine, it was all extremely traumatic. Poor sweetheart. This was her first pet of her very own and she really had looked after him well. I was extremely proud of her, having fully expected to be promoted to chief hamster carer after the novelty wore off. Two years on and he was the most loved hamster ever, so you can imagine how upset she was. Unfortunately, my younger daughter woke up, too – and that wasn’t quite to easy, leading to tales of ‘two years old is ancient for a hamster, he did very well’ and ‘don’t worry, He’ll find Granny and they’ll be ever so happy together’ (although I did wonder what Granny was going to be doing in Hamster heaven! – best not ponder that one too deeply).

Anyway, we lay poor Tribble to rest for the night back in his cosy little bed and eventually everyone goes back to sleep. Peace …

until morning. 8.30 a.m. and Daughter comes flying down the stairs, hamster instruction booklet in hand: ‘Mum, look! Maybe he’s not dead. It says here he could be hibernating!’ And so my day began – heating water bottles, cuddling and whispering sweet nothings into the deaf ears of poor stiff little Tribble. But that’s the thing. He’s not actually stiff. Blimey, it’d be a lot easier if the poor mite had died mid-chomp of a monkey nut – or clinging to the side of his exercise wheel, but no. He’s chosen to keep us guessing. ‘It is extremely difficult to tell,’ says the book, ‘if a hamster is dead or hibernating.’ (Marvellous reference book, eh?) ‘They can remain torpid for up to a week.’ (A WEEK! YOU MUST BE ***ING JOKING!) ‘A vet may or may not be able to tell you whether your pet has kicked the bucket or not. Occasionally, a whisker might twitch and/or if you’re lucky enough to know where a hamster heart is located, you might be supernatural enough to detect a small breath perhaps once every TWO MINUTES!

Ok. So tell me. Exactly how does this ridiculous and completely illogical behavior help this species? I mean, come on! How many hamsters can you imagine have been consigned to the recycling bin (sorry – I mean, gently and carefully buried in the local pet cemetery) – ALIVE! Give it your best guess, I dare you. Have YOU buried a hamster? Ha! Feeling guilty now? Are you sure … absolutely and utterly and completely sure … you didn’t bury the poor mite alive??? To be captured, tortured and interrogated endlessly for espionage by the Mole Bureau of Investigation?

How can a species adopt a behavior that is likely to lead them to a terrifying and untimely death continue to survive? This does not make sense! I think this survival of the fittest thing needs to be rethought. I really do.

And now – if you’ll excuse me – I need to google CPR for hamsters.

Tags: evolution, fittest, hamster, hamsters, hibernate, hibernating, survival

Rowers – every prison should have one!

Rowing machines – Yay! I’ve been introduced to them recently – by a friend. At least, I thought she was a friend, but then who can you trust these days, eh? Think about it! Do you torture your friends? Do you suggest they do unthinkable things? Do you encourage them to try killing themselves – albeit at the gym? Well, do you?

You really need to rethink your idea of friendship.

Rowing! Jeez! It’s not sport. How can it possibly be sport? It’s more like a kind of voluntary corporal punishment. It should be banned. And you know what? It’s addictive, too (another reason it should be banned).

Oh, all right, then. Maybe that’s a little bit harsh, but it’s completely insane. It’s a completely miserable experience – but with the most amazing effects – both physical and psychological.

Argh! I can feel myself getting pulled in … pulled in …

Yep! Probably hooked.

And I’m rubbish! It takes me no time at all to be completely useless, brain turned to mush for the rest of the day. Every prison should have one, I say. Criminals should be forced to row for an hour every day (or two hours – depending on who they’ve murdered (some PMs could carry a sentence of just 20 minutes????)). See, then they simply wouldn’t have the energy to even think about committing another crime for the rest of the day.

Yep! I think it might work.

Tags: corporal, punishment, row, rower, rowers

Beat late-night snacking

Well, it was the subject of much discussion last night, so I thought I’d write it down and reinforce a few tips I picked up – see if I can actually incorporate them myself!! Naturally, this kind of discussion comes up frequently during weight loss meetings and I always tend to ask ‘What kind of snacker are you?’ As with everything, half the problem is recognising that there IS a problem. So if anyone out there wants to beat snacking …

What time of day do you tend to snack the most?

What kind of snacks do you reach for?

WHY? (Are you bored? Lonely? Is it simply a habit as soon as you put feet up in front of the TV?)

Next … what are you going to do about it? Because ‘I just can’t stop’ really is a pathetic excuse, isn’t it? Nobody is forcing those snacks into your mouth – other than you. YOU are in control – and if you’ve lost that control, then now’s the time to take it back. Last night, more than anything, we discussed late-night snacking. The trick is to break the cycle so your body isn’t expecting that treat! Here are a few suggestions and they have ALL worked. Trial and error is the only way you’re going to find out which one is going to work for you.

1. Drink WATER! Yes, it sounds fairly ridiculous but we usually snack because we ‘think’ we’re puckish. Unfortunately, we so often confuse hunger with thirst, so instead of immediately reaching for the biscuit tin, reach for the kitchen tap instead. You are probably NOT hungry.
2. Brush your teeth! There are few of us who like stuffing sticky chocolates and biscuits into our mouths straight after brushing our teeth. Clean teeth feel great and we don’t want to spoil that feeling, so brush your teeth and it’ll give you an extra 20 minutes or so before thinking about snacking again. By that time, well, it’ll be almost bedtime to … just go to bed!
3. Go to bed! And yes, I have to admit that I’ve done this time and time again. There’s nothing worse than having a really good day ‘foodwise’ and then sabotaging it at the last hurdle when it’s really not necessary. Before it happens, just take yourself to bed with a good book. You WON’T be hungry – because you weren’t hungry in the first place – and you’ll get a better night’s sleep, too!
4. Paint your nails! A great one! Feeling like you want to raid the biscuit tin? Sit down and paint your nails instead. And no – none of that quick-dry stuff. Make sure you have a bottle of slow-drying varnish and apply at least two coats. You CANNOT EAT when your nails are wet. What can be better? You avoid piling on the calories and come away with beautiful nails as well. Beat that!
5. Have a bath! Treat yourself! (Oh – and don’t take the biscuit tin up with you – did I mention that?)

It takes 15-20 minutes for a food craving to pass. Make a list of things that YOU can do to fill up those minutes and get rid of the cravings, because we are NOT going to let a simple craving (and that’s all it is – a craving!) to ruin all the effort we’re putting in!

Are we?

Tags: snack, snacking, weight, weight loss