Mummyfried

This is a blog of unconditional love. Even I have to roll my eyes and gag a little. So if you are at all like me, I urge you – stop reading. Help me save the reputation of this blog site and please STOP.   Move   along, nothing to read, nothing to say.. MOVE ALONG I URGE YOU! If you are at all on the soppy, 'water spurting out of your eyes at the drop of a hat' type, then by all means read on.....if I bring a tear to your eye – then I may have just salvaged my reputation and this blog, and blog site. I have been so caught up in the mundane and the day to day that an entire year has gone by since having the Baby and I feel cheated.  Don't get me wrong. I have spent every waking hour and more often than not every half sleeping hour with her. I celebrate her existence with each and every breath – but still, I feel cheated.  She sleeps in her own room. She is almost walking. She has seven teeth. She wants to feed herself. We no longer sterilise or boil water...

So yesterday Little Miss decided she wanted to walk home from the park wearing one shoe and despite the elements refused to wear her coat. I transitioned from gentle coach, encouraging coach, firm mummy, scowling mummy to I can’t take the screaming any more, let her win this one mummy. Determined to draw more attention to us, she sang loudly, belting out her show tunes with the determination of a performer auditioning for that one role that was theirs since birth. Ok, she's not belting out her show tunes, they are mine.   The very show tunes that replace frowns, tiredness and scowls with sunshine, smiles, hope and Grease style dancing.   After she worked her way through Hairspray’s soundtrack (at only 3, her version is generally quite short. She doesn’t know all the words) She turned her attention to the Sound of Music. All the while, she carried her pack of cheese sticks in one hand as though they were fragile chicks. Each person we walked by smiled   or patte...

Ok, who was that soft around the waist and head mummy moron that uploaded a blog of unconditional love and baby blah blah 'she is so cute I just can't get enough of her'? Call the doctor. Really - I don't know that woman. Today I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and aside from the 'softness around the waist' issue - I was terrified. There was nothing soft about the woman staring blankly at me. I will never be able to erase that image from my mind... That woman (yes, in this sleep depraved and deprived state I speak in the third person) has consulted Gina Ford, Tizzie's 'Save our Sleep', and tried controlled (and uncontrolled - oops that is me, back to first person) crying.   I have watched The Nanny. I have consulted the Baby Whisperer. I have read and researched.   I have tried 'The Deep End Approach' (no dirty jokes here please, am too tired to laugh) - all have failed. I now use the 'No Approach.' That cute chubby ...

Another early morning blog attributed to my mind racing through a cocktail of issues. The usual obsessions flow through me. Little Miss' tantrums. Am I too soft or too hard? Am I applying appropriate discipline techniques? It's The Baby's first birthday next week - where has the year gone? How has my precious cherub grown so quickly and right under my nose? Why can't I buy a version of WD 40 that will oil and mute my noisy joints? After running my nightly 'are they hot or cold' checks, those silly creaks wake the girls each time I creep out of their bedroom.  I have accepted these issues and many more (mundane to others but critical to me).  A range of new issues however have invaded my thoughts. Where is that Malaysian plane? What are the real implications of the Ukraine crisis? Will I ever stop obsessing about what is going on in the world? What will I watch when my nightly fix of a Turkish TV drama (with Greek subtitles) ends?  This drama has h...

I have always considered myself a one man woman. But like a heroine in a romance novel, my world has been turned upside down.  I don't think it's love. I don't think it's lust. It's  an obsession that just wont pass. I know it's not right.  There is not much I can do about it.  Like a smitten boy-crazed school girl, I just cant stop thinking or talking about him. His name is Henry. A nice strong traditional English (I think)  name. A name I wouldnt normally be attracted to - but these things often suprise even the best of heroines. I first noticed him on  a construction site. I couldnt help but be drawn to him. He looked so in control, he knew he had a lot of work to do, he was going to get dirty and didnt care.  He had a focussed determination - a force to be reckoned with. No job was too small or big for this strong but friendly brute. What really won me over was his warm smile. Just when I thought I had my obsession (or fantasy) under control, a...

Break open the bubbly! Today is the last day of the 30 day blog a day challenge. Time to celebrate an achievement. It’s a mixed bag of feelings and awakenings.  I am: Ecstatic that I stuck to it, and got through it. Amazed that I managed to juggle a blog a day with two kids under three and Mr. Lucky. In addition to the mundane, I have spent the last 30 days looking for alternative accommodation in Greece and the UK. We are moving to another short stay apartment – so am packing up to move house. AND we’re looking at apartments to move in to for when we go back to London, am packing up what we currently don’t need to ship that back to London. FUN!! Thrilled that I managed to reconnect with Ms. Lintern. Sad that the challenge is over – I enjoyed dusting off my brain, and giving the fingers a workout. Relieved that it’s come to an end, the pressure is off.  It got tough towards the end. Liberated.  I have managed to expel a range of r...

. I often don’t write about things that make my blood boil or things that upset me. I take all that out on Mr. Lucky, and I pity my keyboard. It has already lost the TAB button and I don’t think I could bear it if I lost any other key. Being in Greece for some time now I have seen shops close, people lose their jobs, and homes. The Greek financial crisis has created a fear that has dented Greece’s normally euphoric,’ live and love life to the fullest ‘state of being. There is a growing divide between those who have, and those who have not. We were in a taverna the other day. A young man came in selling candles. Nobody bought any. He left looking devastated, desperate and lost.  After lunch, we walked to a children’s play cafe to let Little Miss run around. While we sat there, the same young man came in this time without his bag of candles and asked the proprietor for work.  Without even looking at him, the proprietor asked him to leave.  As he esc...