For some reason, I thought it a wonderful idea to give up something glorious for lent. Not that I had to, but because I thought it would do my character some good. My beloved gin. that's right - I've extended my tipple ban to the end of lent on my favourite drink. This does not however exclude wine, vodka or cocktails unless they are gin based, however we're not long into 40 odd days and I'm already pining.
This is somewhat remarkable as I've not had a gin since last January 2008. You would have thought that I would have gotten over it all by now however the fact that I am now allowed alcohol kinda rubs the salt in the proverbial wound as well as the shallow papercut.
When I was younger, I wouldn't necessarily binge drink but I would indulge inthe 3 units a night which the Government is currently running a vigorius campaign to dissuade women from a large glass of wine a night. And once a month or so, I would have what I would call ribenia week, where no alcohol would pass my lips. Maybe now in my more mature outlook on life, this is now what I'm partaking in. But only with gin. A decision I now regret but will stick to. Promise. I will really try. Right after some Langage Farm pseudo G&T ice-cream.
Give a girl a break - I've already had a year off...
Mini-hd is now 24 weeks old and is currently being weaned in her bumbo. By feeding herself.
Thats right - baby led weaning where you cook finger food until it's soft enough and then let baby loose. Which means for the first time in months, Girlpants and I can have a meal at the same time at the same hot temperature. Fabbo!
Unfortunately due to mini-hd's mamma being another year older (I cut my leg off and counted the rings to check), this also mean that mini-hd was introduced to chocolate cake. But only a smidgen. And under parental supervision that she only had a sniff, as the last thing I need is for her to go off her broccholi at this stage. She's already gagging at cabbage. Like father, like daughter...
On another note, I now unfortunately know all the songs to the characters from In The Night Garden. However, to counteract this, I did manange to find Trumpton, Camberwick Green, Danger Mouse and Mr Benn on dvd. She may be young, but she's young enough to be brainwashed. She will convert...
I was going to blog about a wonderful day out at the aquarium with mini-hd, Girlpants, Prof Dr HOS and mini-Prof Dr HOS, looking at big bad sharks, starfish and Snorkle, followed by some playtime with mini-hd's Godmummy. But then I thought I could start a serious debate about the wildcat strikes that are breaking out in the north of England. But then Girlpants sent me this:
Which leads to another question. Why does Girlpants want to know where he can find a leotard like that?
I ask you?
In an attempt to getting mini-hd into good telly (aka the electronic babysitter), I've been trying to find something fab from my youth such as
   
as opposed to Tellytubbies and Spacepirates as they seem to scare her. So I was amazed when she seemed to enjoy Countdown this afternoon. But not just any Countdown - the new format.
Carol Vorderman has gone and in her place is a v nervous blonde graduate from Oxford who is trying hard to fill some very big shoes. And it's clear that she realises this as she tried to crack jokes whilst presenting. She'll get there however she'll be fighting nostalgia all the way. Still - mini-hd liked the music itself. I even think she prefers it to Take That.
She'll learn...
It seems when I was young, the television for chidlren was so much better. Cartoons were fab and every weekend, the entire family sat down to watch the Muppet Show. Yet we don't seem to have that now. I cringe as I say this, but those were the days! When cartoons had continous storylines, books came alive and roleplaying through outfits fuelled young imaginations.
Damn that grey hair. I'm getting old already...
As I slowly struggle to get mini-hd in more of a routine so I can tweak her day to suit mine, I'm left wondering what on earth I did with my time before she came along.
To help my snoring wonder go to sleep, I've taken to reading a page from my current read outloud to her each evening. And whilst many may think that she doesn't look like me, she certainly has my sense of humour and outlook on life, as I had to wrestle my MBIAT book back tonight.
Plus if I read to her in a singsong voice, it helps the little cherub on her way to slumberland, as so, all the while instructing my eikle one, as I like to think of it as starting her education early. After all, it is a guide... .
Currently at page 110, she has taken to chewing pages which she finds especially funny, her favourite currently being pg47. Not something I was especially please to find out as I may have to buy another copy. In fact, I may even have to raid the kitty to pay for it.
After all, whats mine is mine...
I would like to beg that I would have blogged before now, however mini-hd has gone through what one can only class as a growth spurt. From a tiny curled up thing, she now looks like a 4 month old. Going from this:
to this:
Which is apt as she'll be 16 weeks from 0330 tomorrow morning. He's the only man I know that can get a 12 o'clock shadow 45 minutes after he has shaved.
And yes - Girlpants had already shaved that morning.
Christmas was large but fun - 11 people in total at ours with Girlpants and myself cooking from scratch whilst trying to entertain the smallest member of the clan. Although I didn't manage to get the present I wanted for Gilrpnats - a shotgun license as apparently being a new dad isn't a good enough reason for Devon & Cornwall Constabulary and have a word with yourself missy, so a bumper pack of Futurama had to suffice. Mini-hd got a stocking stuffed with rubber ducks and Larry the Lion in it, whilst family were on strict instructions for no big presents. So when Uncle Toerag (Girlpants brother) turned up with a hughmongous dead muppet, it didn't go down especially well to the point where Girlants and I are considering sending him a squirrel army in the post for his next annual celebration of birth.
New Years was the tradiationally watching of Hootananny on the BEEB, whilst mini-hd snored so that the moses basket rippled with the soundwaves and Girlpants tried to catch up on work, whilst youngsters on the street outside let off fireworks.
So happy new 2009 everyone! it's somewhat belated for festive wishes but I do hope that you all are rested, with I hope that you all have a wonderful new year filled with mucho joy, happiness and high spirits. Mines a gin!
The cold has seeped back into the west country and with it, the coughs and sniffles (which means ladies and gents, that once more Girlpants has got man flu and he and mini-hd have been playing ping pong giving it to each other) so it is a time to wrap up warm.
I know - a ridiculous outfit but I couldn't resist!
With the cold snap has come the realisation that there is just over a month to Christmas. And I am not prepared. My cards are not done, not presents have been bought however the goose is in the freezer. If I get a moment to use my laptop, then my first thought is to blog and the next is to maybe peruse Amazon in the vain hope that they haven't sold out of the pressies that I need to buy. I had hoped to write this entry at 4am this morning after getting mini-hd winded and waiting for her to settle, but that never happened. Her settling that is. Poor little mite finds it hard to breathe though her snotty nose which also affects feeding. And meanwhile, Girlpants has been languishing upstairs in bed, hoping for some of the meagre sympathy that I used to bestow on him. Which I did as I held his nose whilst pouring a lemsip down his throat.
Well - it works with giving medicine to the cats.
There's one good thing that's come out of the recent furore of Brand and Ross leaving messages on Andrew Sach's mobile. It took the prime storyline away from the world recession to the moral outrage of thousands after they logged on and listened to the radio broadcast a week after the event to then email in complaints. The joys of multimedia and youtube...
Whilst the phonecalls were both infantile and stupid, and more importantly should not have been broadcast as the entire thing was pre-recorded, only two people complained on the day. One week on plus tabloid coverage later, there were over 30,000 compplaints, two investigations and mention in the Commons. Ahh - the age of mass hysteria.
Whilst this all was uncalled for and was IMHO blown out of proportion, the two have apoligised, one has resigned from the BEEB whilst the other is suspended for 12 weeks without pay, setting Jonathon Ross back over 1million, it did break the gloom and doom of the recent news broadcasts. And on a personal note, the doom and gloom of nappies and sleepless nights have been broken by my daughters first smile. And once she popped a smile, she now really can't stop.
The minor disruption in our life is currently taking over with sleepless nights and projectile vomit, whilst I've lost my ability to get ready and be out of the house before 11 in the morning. How crud is that? But thank God Sky is currently rerunning Bones and Stargate in the morning.
Like others, I've fallen by the wayside when is comes to blogging, which admittedly has happened too often for my own personal liking. What with finances, clingy whinging child, house guests and trying to keep ahead of householdy stuff, time has flown away. And I'm left thinking what on earth did I do with my time before and morepertainent, what on earth is happening to my time now?
I'm still not allowed to drive and although I have popped to the shops, walked around the park and have been into town a couple of times, so it's not like I'm going out much. Occassionally, I'll sleep in the afternoon when mini-hd is sleeping just to catch up, but I just can not see where the days go. I actually managed to sweep the floors today as I couldn't tell the difference between the tumbleweeds of fur or the cats themselves. I even had time to wash my hair this morning and am now considering cutting my long tresses off to save time on brushing it.
Although then, Joe Bloggs on the street may confuse both my daughter and myself for boys. Were it not for my impressive rack that is, which my daughter tends to cuddle and conceal for both my dignity and her own gluttony...
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