Friday, 22 July 2011

I fully get my own POV...

I have just done ‘super angry gruff’ voice in a last ditch attempt to get the night stroller to bed (yep, the Ezza saga continues) and I now have a proper sore throat. And to top it all off, it didn’t even chuffing work-she’s running around again. I need help…mentally, but with Ezza too, if anyone could??

Sitting here typing, cooking rice-SH*T, f**k, hang on *sprints like bat out of my own house to kitchen*… It’s burned. Take 2 on dinner and back to blog, I am in 2 pairs of socks, trousers, jumper and 2 tops beneath it. WITH the heating ON. IT IS JULY THE 21st for God’s sake. You know what I think? I think this is the beginning of the end of the world, we have survived several already, thanks to Nostradamus, Harold Camping (for example), for their pearls of b*ll*cks. So, my prediction I have faith in, and am hoarding tinned food and mars bars. Tomorrow I plan to get the kids in on it too, and make them dig an under ground bunker, with their sand castle spades, that should keep them amused all summer…Well, all the rest of their lives in fact. Alright, maybe I won’t. But I really do want to know the answer as to why the weather is so pants. I went to the beach, because ‘oooo, wow, look kids, it’s NOT raining! Come on, out, all of you, I don’t care that you’re naked and have no shoes on, we’re off to the beach’…So I thought I’d make the most of it, and do something outdoors. Any way, we were in coats, scarves and socks and sensible winter shoes. How’s that right at the end of July in France? Hey ho, at least the fooking rain stopped for a bit.
this time last year (almost) Esmie turns 2...

Yey, the candles are blown...

Yesterday morning, Monty had his best mate Enzo show up at 11 am for the day. He was sporting a rather large back pack, and I became a little suspicious, so I question him, ‘so, you brought some toys in your back pack to show Monty then?’ ‘Erm yeah’ cames the response, ‘and my pyjamas’ Oh, OK, maybe this was normal…although my suspicions were rising, then when his dad turns and says, thanks loads, what time shall I pick him up tomorrow? I realise we have him for the night. How did I get myself into that one? You know what, I didn’t, it was my son, that got me into that one, fully stitched up. After Lola had had her 2 friends round to sleep for her birthday (never again) Monty asks if he can have Gorka (I know, popular name in France though) and Enzo to sleep. I say yeeas, one day. He takes it upon himself to invite them to sleep on the 20th of July, gives them our address, explains how to fins us, and says see you then…In his mind he has done nothing wrong, I fully get his POV, but, at the same time, I fully get my own POV too…! Luckily, he’s brilliant, and the 2 of them were so happy, they played like angels all day, went to bed, chatted for ages, then at 10 pm the chatting starting dying out, until a few drones, and nothing, zonked. Great for Monty, I’m pleased he got a boy to play with for the day (and, not forewarned, night…!).
Monty, last Summer.
Everyone has their own inight time routines/sayings…in this house followed by lots of cuddles and kisses, and last cuddles and kisses, and the cuddles and kisses not felt, do me again, and then the last cuddles and kisses that were not felt, and this time IT IS THE LAST F******G time you get one, we then always say to each other, night night, sleep tight, hope the bed bugs don’t bite, god bless, I love you, see you in the morning…this is a huge mouthful, especially if you have had a post-kids-in-bed glass of *thank f*k it’s bedtime in an hour* wine. I really have no reason what so ever for telling you this, I s’pose I was just wondering what you all say? I find it interesting anyway…
See you tomorrow, Tamsyn x

Wednesday, 20 July 2011

So, big flappers, here I come…

Hey! My ducks ate out of my hand tonight! Yeah, I know, you lot couldn’t give a flying rat’s bottom hole, but for me, it’s a tremendous feat! Hoorah for me. Posh and Beaks, and Minnie and Daisy like me enough to eat out of my hands. The love I have for my kids…runs deep, the things they feed me out of their grubby little chubby-fingered paws…


I am stood chatting to mum, Esmie is in my arms, rolling something all over my neck, it turns out to be Prit-Stick. Brilliant. I thought I had hidden it after earlier’s incident. They are pretty 'arty crafty' kids, they love to make things, and my mum and dad have been beavering away making goggle eyed monsters, sticking and pasting, thoroughly taking kid duties seriously!…Not that you have much choice in this house. Esmie, the incident: I sit down on the chair for tea, I get momentarily stuck, although, thankfully, it’s only Prit-Stick, not superglue, and I leaver my pie ass with catlike dexterity off the seat CAKED in glue. The table has a giant ‘E’ Prit Stuck on it. Hmmm, wonder who that was *runs off to call Poirot* Throughout the evening, I have come across various ‘E’s’ Prit Sticked around the place, hither and thither. Hence, the Prit Stick, now being Prit-Sticked on my neck (I had been Prit Stuck), was not supposed to be found. She has quite obviously been at the ninja-baby thing again, scaling walls, breaking in and entering, and claiming her prize, the Prit-Stick/toothpaste/chocolate/chocolate powder (she nearly choked herself drinking it once…So I thought quickly and fed her milk, clouds of chocolate powder dust bursting out in puffs from her naughty chocolate powder eating mouth, the milk did the trick, chocolate milk, mmmmm)/marbles/mascaras, because sometimes the panda bear look IS cool on a 2-year-old/scissors (for self-hair cutting purposes, the name ‘Tufty’ she earned for her efforts) and the like…
Tufty, the self-hairdressing child..this is taken months after the incidences (note the plural)...Tufts still regrowing at the back...
  ‘Finished!’ I announce proudly to Monty, 45 minutes after I had started, Monty becoming more and more frustrated with my time taking (we were about to go to battle, you see), I unveil my spaceship.  Da da! Monty has a star wars lego den under his bed, he spends hours under it playing star wars lego, building things, having battles and the like. The girls were in bed, and I got to play with Monty for a few hours under his den. My ship, I believe, is a master piece! Lego star wars ship changing material, but Monty is having none of it. I go on and on about it being the best ship under his den, he wets himself laughing, as I try to convince him of this. In the end (I did go on for a fair while) he looks at me and says, ‘Alright, alright mum, look, it’s the best one you’ve ever built…’ diplomacy, I like this…We battle away for hours, me refusing to believe Monty has long since destroyed my mega ship. I am ‘pew pewing' away like a trooper (a storm one, see, I know my Star Wars stuff and everything…), when Monty, who has quite clearly had enough of my complete ignorance as to the correct pretend shooting noise, turns to me and quietly tells me ‘It’s OK mum, you can stop making the noises now…It’s better that way…’ And so, put in my place, I assume mega ship destroyed pose and crash my master piece to the floor in defeat. I am sure I heard Monty go ‘phew’ and roll his eyes…

At any rate, the few hours I spent on my own with Monty was bliss. It’s difficult to have one on one with them all during the holidays, I try each day to do something, even if it’s only 20 minutes, with each on their own. But it’s not always a towering success. Tonight, however, was, although my fake shooting noises are sh*t. We still have rain here, and the temperature was a freezing 16 degrees here today. So indoor activity action stations are being managed, although they do need to get outside now…

Monty has his best mate Enzo coming to play tomorrow, so that will balance the boy levels out a bit here. I hope we have some sun, mum and dad keep thinking they’ve not left England. There is a peck at the door, I must go and see to the chickens, it’s blowing a gale out there, and they most likely want me to take them to bed. So, big flappers, here I come…

See you tomorrow,

Tamsyn x

Monday, 18 July 2011

Legs akimbo...

I love watching my ducks feed. They are just too cute. Minnie, Daisy, Posh and Beaks (still lol at my own joke), after a fair bit of softly, softly catching my monkey, I have been getting gradually getting closer and closer to them as they eat, to now them letting me sit next to them, you know, chatting away to them, and watching their not quite fully grown beaks nibble away frantically at the corn. Very normal human mother of 4 behaviour, well at least I am not sat there with a litre of vodka which you could question…There, now I made option one seem totally normal. The ducks are now fairly tame, you might say. Well, apart form insisting the giant paddling pool is theirs, swimming in it and quacking loudly and taking umbridge when the kids want their turn. The duck/kid standoff is not a pretty one. They stare each other out, then the kids MAKE SOME NOOOOISSEEEEE!!! And roar around a bit, until the ducks are so freaked out, that they give away their territory. Scared Ducks, zero, scary kids, one. And if, by tame, you think sh*tt*ng in the house counts, then yes, that too. Mind you, in this house…
Well, I'd be scared......
Well my parents got to France late last night, and today we spent a lovely afternoon going on nature walks, Monty was gutted actually. Mum and dad are in a Gite and it is in the grounds of a castle (Rapunzel lives there, bloody hell she could do with a hair cut…) we were told there was loads of wild life there, thus to drive like badgers would do, if badgers could drive. Ah. But badgers DO drive, I argue, you just can’t see them because they sport head scarves and whizz along like little badger joyriders…anyway, so we go for a nature walk around the ground, expecting to find all kinds, Monty takes some binoculars, all jeed up. He’s so fascinated by all things nature, weirdo…Bless, that was a joke, it’s wonderful he is so zealous about the beauty around us. I love that trait in him. We see sweet FA, there was not even a bird tweet or a flap to be heard. Still, back in the garden there’s plenty of that, he’ll soon get over it!

My mum and dad’s Gite, as I said, is within the enclosed grounds of a castle. Esmie has not been seen or heard for about 8 seconds, and mum panics, thinking she has got out onto the road. Yeah, OK, that’s gonna happen, inside Fort Knox, mum. It is entirely enclosed by thicket and fence, and the gates at the entry have sensors, who alert the FBI, Gendarmes and any army aircraft or spaceships. So basically, if you cross the beams before you enter the code, you’re f****d. Unless Esmie has kitted herself out as a ninja baby, back pack, helmet and crampons, back pack contents for ninja babies containing: rope, for scaling, a gun, because of course a ninja baby would have one, black paint-to self-camoflage , and some camoflage netting, to hide under, and a plastic pot of cheerios. The lady who deals with the bookings instructs me carefully on the correct ‘entering code before crossing beam detectors’ technique. You do NOT! Cross the sensors, she actually did shout the word NOT too, bit off putting, I thought I had done something wrong. OK I shall be careful, I nod and look concerned and sensible, which was a tricky look to master. She tells me the code, then performs the deed, the ‘code enter’ she reaches prudently and erectly, her arm, and staying vigilant, contorting the body (at her age too…!) legs akimbo, so as not cross the sensors alerting the French army, one ‘enters’, pressing the CORRECT code, careful not to go arse over t*t and f*ck the whole procedure up…


On the up side, their Gite has a washing machine!!! Yey! So I took, and will continue, to be taking full advantage of this white God, and wash the filth away! I did 6 loads today, and have 18 more awaiting, since last Monday…would you believe it….and also the accumulating dirty filthy clothes that parade around my house, car and garden, whooping and self-chest pumping, mini fist pumps, everything pumping away, because they were only clean for 8 whole seconds that time…

On that note, I shall leave….the weather is shizer at the moment, rain, rain, and more rain, so I am hoping for less wetness soon. Weird thing to be hoping for, but I do, nonetheless. Till tomorrow folks!

Tamsyn x

Sunday, 17 July 2011

Thought for the Day. Week 6...

A very quick one today, as my mum and dad are over for 2 weeks from England, and they need an English cup of tea...Pronto!

I have had some sad news this week, it has made me feel pensive on an insurmountable scale...loss is hard to deal with, everyone does it in their own way, there is no 'bog standard' way, it's just hard. With this in mind (and oh how much I could go into this, but shan't), I will EXTREMEMLY briefly explain 'me' and my spiritual beliefs in a tiny nutshell...I do not call myself a Christian/Buddhist/Muslim  (examples) per se, but in my life I try and follow God/Jah, my spiritual path is a diverse one, incorprating many Reilgions, many teachings and beliefs, but fundamentally, religion seeks the very same goal-following God. I turn to various spiritual guidances, books, prayers, meditations, and today, my Thought for the day comes from the Bible, 

"I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." John 16:33