Tuesday, 22 April 2014

Mumsnet's "A scene from your life that should have been in a sitcom"

This thread had me in stitches, even though the first post was about a funeral.

It made me think about the absolutely disgraceful shows that I've put on at funerals. Having thought about it though, I realised it wasn't just me, but my whole family. I didn't post these on mumsnet for fear of outing myself, but here are a selection that come to mind.

-Not me but both parents. They used to attend more than their fair share of funerals as we used to own a residential home and the residents were like extended family to us. They went to one funeral in an Austin Allegro, well after anyone else was driving one of these. As the car made such a racket, they parked it miles from the church and ended up being late and wet as it was pouring with rain, necessitating a sprint towards the church. My dad slipped onto his back, splitting his suit jacket all the way up and creating a two separates pieces of fabric. A bit dazed, he was quite concerned to see the priest, open prayer book in hand, peering over him and checking he was ok.

Later in the same funeral, my mum went to get a tissue out of her pocket, but pulled out her underwear that she hurriedly stuffed in there in her haste to get changed.

-At my grandmother's funeral, I turned up in my red and white campervan which apparently could be heard choking into life from some distance away. My uncle had a fit of the giggles when he saw it.

-Later in the same funeral, the priest put a dictionary on top of the coffin, instead of the Bible.

-At MrM's aunt's funeral, the vicar seemed to be under huge time pressure (like to vicar at our wedding) and belted through the Our Father so quickly that no one else could keep up. He also made his way towards the door and started ushering us all out before he'd finished the prayer.

-We thought we were at the wrong funeral on one occasion as the priest hardly mentioned the deceased, but told us all about himself.

-At one funeral, my friend's young daughter wouldn't stop running around the church and during the eulogy, grabbed the lectern and started shaking it violently while her dad tried to reason with her. We then heard her get a walloping outside.

-At the most recent funeral I went to, one of the parishioners fell asleep, leading me to panic that she'd died. I sang extremely loudly to check.

Mummy blogs

Having been a journalist, I can see a certain snobbery about mummy blogs that I first noticed at a blogging conference a couple of years ago. As I'm the only person who reads this blog, I see it as somewhere to post the weird and wonderful things we get up to that I will forget by tomorrow morning, or if I go upstairs for something. I had a read through the nine months of forgetfulness, panic and tiredness that was my pregnancy and had a good laugh at my idiocy - things that would have long been lost in the depth of my memory without the blog.

I love reading other people's blogs too. However, if there's one type of blog that makes me yawn, it's the blogs that review everything they can think of in an attempt to save themselves from ever buying anything again. I had a whinge about this a few weeks ago, but I've just received two emails that show that there is a way to ask for things without begging and sending PRs your shopping list.

Compare this:

Hi! Would you like me to host and run a giveaway for you on my blog or Facebook page? I'm looking for competition prizes, offers and discounts to feature on my blog.

My blog currently has xxx Google Friends and xxx Network Friends. I receive an average of xxx hits per month and have a very interactive audience. I also run a Facebook page of the same name with over xxx followers and a Twitter account with xxx followers.

I am happy to review your products as well as host the giveaways. Please do get in touch if you would like to work with me.

Kindest Regards,

with this:

Currently looking for product's/service to review over on my blog. I will happily include photo's of the product's being used/tested and also give an honest opinion along with a star rating and links where available.

I'm a mummy blogger of 2 young girl's .

Look forward to hearing back and possibly working with you.

All the best,

A PR wants to work together, so you have to show what's in it for their product. You also have to show you know how to write without peppering your copy with apostrophes. As a stand-up comedian I was following on Twitter said: "The plural of 'apostrophe' is not apostrophe's".


The allotment

A long Easter walk we'd planned got panned five minutes in when the McBaby managed to put his hands in some dog poo that the dog's owner didn't feel necessary to clear up. As well as Toxicariasis which could cause blindness, we were also faced with getting a toddler absolutely covered in foul smelling dog poo home and into the bath. Still furious with him, myself for not stopping him and the dog owner, MrM suggested a trip to the allotment might calm me down.

So we got digging and finally sowed some plants and seeds! We couldn't find the trowel anywhere, so used the McBaby's pink beach spade. He was most put out about this and wouldn't let us use it. We distracted him by enlisting his help to fetch water in the watering can and marking off his own garden within the allotment where he will be growing sunflowers and tomatoes.


Thursday, 17 April 2014

Happy Easter!

We're off to the Lambourn open day tomorrow, so in the meantime, check out the card and Easter basket the McBaby made for me. Apparently, there was some chocolate in the basket when it left the nursery. It did not make it home.


Monday, 14 April 2014


You know when a toddler shouts "daddy" at every random man he meets in the street? Usually, it's not funny for me, as his mother. But when he spent the whole evening telling everyone that this Buddha statue was his daddy, I couldn't help but laugh!

If only rubbing his daddy's tummy brought us good luck!!

Thursday, 10 April 2014

Did you enjoy the jam tart we made you?

Lovely guy at McBaby's nursery:

"Did you enjoy the jam tart we made you for mother's day?"

Me: "Er what jam tart?"

"The little monkey must have eaten it! We made you a jam tart on Friday". Pauses. "Did you not get the cornflake cakes or the biscuits last week or the sponge the week before either?"

Someone's got a sweet tooth, just like their mum!



It was the armbands that gave me a clue.

Usually when the McBaby asks for "waty", it means he needs a drink of water. But on this occasion, he wanted to go swimming.

I had a look on the local leisure centre website to see if we could go swimming. After getting a blank page three times, I finally ascertained that there was something called "Aquazone" going on. I typed "aquazone" into the site's search box to see what that mean and it said "no results for your search."

So I put us into our swimming outfits and then put him in the car much to his annoyance. "Waty!" he shouted, as he marched down the street towards the leisure centre. When I eventually put him in the car (sadly, I had to take his armbands off to do this), and we arrived at the leisure centre, he couldn't contain his excitement and bounded up the reception desk.

"Sorry, it's swimming lessons," she said as a heartbroken McBaby peered through the glass at two people in the pool, cordoned off into their own compartment taking up less than a quarter of the pool. The majority of the pool was being unused, creating devastation as I explained to the McBaby that he couldn't go in.

I asked about the sister leisure centres in the two neighbouring towns. "Same story", she said. "Are there any other pools anywhere?" I asked. "Well, there's the private place down the road". Yes!

I called them from the car, via that directory enquiries number with the runners. They put me back through to the leisure centre we'd just come from. I tried again, finally getting through to the posh one who said it was adults only.

I tried the hotel where I used to work. No day passes. But would I be interested in joining?

Then I tried one in town that we'd considered joining some time ago as it's gleaming clean! Yes to day passes! And the toddler goes free! And I'd get a tour!

I headed there along the main road, with the McBaby now purple in the face shouting "WATY, WATY, WATY" for 20 minutes only to sense halfway there that someone's nappy needed changing. Let me say that again, someone's LAST swimming nappy. I stopped by the orange supermarket and as he was so upset, and as I'm so responsible, decided that I would run in and out. Except I joined the slowest checkout queue in the world. What seemed like an hour later, I ran back to the car and we went to the posh gym.

We pulled up, got tutted at by a posh lady on the way in (not sure if this is because I look foreign or because we didn't arrive in a 4x4 or if it was because I'd brought our swimming stuff in a Tesco carrier bag). And because of that, the McBaby REFUSED to go in. He lay down on the floor and shouted "NO!"

So we're back home, in our swimming suits. "Waty day."