Monday, 27 June 2011

Well I had a lovely night on Wednesday looking after E's wee boys. They went to bed no bother, after doing the usual stringing out the time thing by chatting about anything they could think of and showing me everything from collections of stones to the views from their bedroom windows.  When they had gone to bed I sat down to watch the telly and amused myself by flicking through the channels.. We only have Free view but it would appear Virgin are no better when it comes to choice. The first programme I encountered was 'Body Building Pensioners'. There is something quite disturbing about seeing a wrinkly old face on a pneumatic body. I switched over....to a scary film about a poltergeist. I switched over. Scary films and an overactive imagination are not a good combo. Especially in someone else's house, on your own and of a nervous disposition. The next thing was a documentary on the world ending in 2012. It scared the wits out of me so I switched over again but made mental note to shop at the last minute for Christmas presents just in case......

The dreaded report cards appeared on Friday at lunch time. Still none the wiser about how the kids are actually progressing.  When I was at school there were three boxes for each subject informing your parents if you were above average, average or just plain la la.  At least you knew where you stood with regards to your abilities then. The format has changed and they are now full of useless comments. I am really not interested in the fact that according to his teacher 'H has a good knowledge of road safety. ' Does he?  Not according to my observations. I wouldn't trust him crossing our driveway, let alone the main road. He also has to adopt 'a more mature' attitude to his drama class. He is six. If someone asked me to pretend I was a tree I would ham it up and take the p**s so there's not much hope for a six year old. At least their attitudes and homework were marked excellent so we must be doing something right.   I am at present composing some comments for the return slip. There is a box to give the highlights of your child's year. I wonder if someone running over the desks and the school nearly having to call in the riot squad applies. It shuts in four days so we might as well go out with a bang.......

Wednesday, 22 June 2011

A quiet week in which I have finally conquered Mount Ironing. Hallelujah!  L finished her talk on Austria and thing are knocking along nicely in the run up to the holidays. Homework is finally finished.

Spent Monday afternoon at a meeting at the school. Summonsed by the Heidy to take part it was one of those things where you turned up not knowing what to expect and left none the wiser.  Arrived and found myself shoehorned in between the local community policeman and the minister of all folk. Fortunately the minister is a very cheery, gregarious character who launched into chat. Unfortunately he has a very strong accent. I am awful at understanding accents and spent a torturous ten minutes tuning in. One of those moments where you are nodding like mad and smiling and hoping to goodness that you shouldn't be shaking your head.  I seemed to get away with it. At no point in this meeting did anyone introduce themselves and it took half an hour to realise that someone was actually interviewing us individually. Sometimes I wonder what the heck the local council are wasting our council tax on. Today it was obviously a clueless old git talking to parents for some unknown reason and three trays of M&S sandwiches.

Have E's boys tonight for tea and will take them round to their beds as she is off to see Take That at Glasgow with her hubby.  Gary, really sorry couldn't get tickets for our date but never mind, there's always next year.......

Monday, 20 June 2011

Spent Friday morning at A's for breakfast and then toddled over to the school for their 'open morning'. H's class first and the presentation was on the Romans. Walked in to find twenty odd P2's and 3's wearing hand made Roman helmets. Large gold painted papier mache globes fitted onto their heads with cardboard plumes along the top. Wanted to laugh. Some of the plumes had been stuck on the wrong way giving them a comical look. They gave an extremely cute show. Moved onto L's class and a talk on the Royal wedding and the UK. It has to be said not so cute but good none the less.

Spent the afternoon with a splitting headache (L had one too),  so did nothing but lie along the couch hoping it would go away. Lassie came on and I cringed. L was desperate to watch it and I new it would be tears before bedtime. Sure enough a Lassie film is not a Lassie film without the demise of something cute, and within an hour she was snivelling when a wee mongrel went off to the great dog basket in the sky. She cheered up when Grease came on next,  but I was less than amused when she started doing thoroughly inappropriate pelvic thrusts across the living room floor a la Danny Zuko.  I had forgotten how some of Grease is too near the bit. When I told her to stop she just laughed and continued as she new darn fine she was winding me up big time. Thank goodness the next thing on wasn't American Pie................

Tuesday, 14 June 2011

Potted Sports : (Latin: Sporticus Freezicus your Assicus Officus). After L's sports day being cancelled yesterday morning (much to my disappointment,  as I had envisaged an hour in the cafe beforehand, drinking tea and scoffing a bacon roll), I ended up at aqua fit. Came home and started clearing up the Gala carnage. Had lunch and received a text telling me that they were back on - in forty minutes. Fell out the door dragging H's spacesuit, which had been requested as part of a school display, and an umbrella.

Arrived at the field with J to find that all the classes had been split up into teams of assorted children, the sporty ones, the uncoordinated ones, the competitive ones and the ones nobody wants on their teams. It brought back the miserable scenario which seems to plague many a child at school gym times (myself included) when the sadistic sod of a teacher used to let two kids pick the teams. Usually the sporty types were picked first, then their pals and then the dregs (i.e, chubbies and specky unsporty nerdy types). Now before anyone objects, I was one of the specky nerdy ones, so don't get on your sanctimonious high horses. It's a fact of life, one of the ones you only encounter at school.  Anyway, the teams had to make their way round the field to ten different stations doing various 'sporty' activities.  Since when was throwing a giant pencil a sport? By the time I had watched  three tasks I was slowly losing the will to live and was freezing to boot. I started to pray to Him Upstairs for rain. He answered in the form of my next door neighbours appearance. I was delighted to see them, especially as S said he would go and get us a cup of tea. It was so cold I accepted and his wife and I spent the rest of the afternoon chatting about holidays to Florida. So much so I am ashamed to admit I don't know who won yet....

As I am writing this the kids are 'cooking' in the kitchen. For some deranged reason I have allowed them to make strawberry and marshmallow skewers covered in chocolate and sprinkles. Have just spotted H with a face covered in chocolate, licking his fingers (very hygienic).  I don't think Michel Roux has anything to worry about.......

Monday, 13 June 2011

Well that's it all over for another year. Clothes dried out, fancy dress costumes put away, barbecues extinguished and beer bottles off to the recycling. What a day.

After drying out we headed off down to J's for the barby.  As usual the house was packed with folk guzzling burgers and beer. Our friend R arrived. He is a hairdresser in Glasgow, and was named by FHM as one of the top 21 men's hairdressers in Britain. (That's me had my wee brag about him, as we are all incredibly proud of him, he is so creative and such great fun). Anyway at 8.30 he stood up and said ,'Who's going to the shows then? L immediately said yes along with J's kids and nephew so with J's sister in law, my hubby and a neighbour in tow they took off to the field.  They arrived back about an hour later looking green as all that was left open was the Waltzers.  An overdose of the Waltzers, too much food and booze is enough to make anyone feel ill.

You always know a party is good when someone wheels out the karaoke machine, which had to be fixed a J's sister's pup decided to chew the mic while no one was looking.  Booze always makes folk great singers (or so they think) and before long the mic was having to be forcibly removed from some folks hands.  R did a fantastic version of Michael Jackson's Blame it on the Boogie complete with actions.  Hilarious. There's nothing like a room full of drunk folk trying to follow his lead . Downside however was that due to the drunken hilarity some git managed to pinch B's guitar from J's decorated garden. Some folk don't know what to be at. It wasn't the only thing stolen that night. Due to the power of Facebook most folk know what has gone missing and the culprits better look out, as there is nothing like the wrath of a bunch of angry mothers.....

Fell into bed after midnight, and said a wee prayer that L wouldn't be picked for the Queen's Court next year. Then instantly felt guilty.........

Saturday, 11 June 2011

Washout!!!

Spent last night helping J and crew, (there must have been 20 of us) decorate the house. L and myself were dispatched to the local chippy to get pizza to feed the hungry masses. How lucky were we? The last pizza was just being whipped out of the oven when there was a power cut.  Was glad that we got ours as I didn't fancy venturing home empty handed, I reckon they would have barbecued us and eaten us instead. Felt sorry for the guys in the chippy though, they were gutted as the night before the Gala is one of their busiest nights of the year.

Woken up this morning at 8.30 by a text message from J asking if I had any double sided sticky tape. S was lying in bed dying after giving himself a dose of the trots. He will not stay away from prawns and had eaten a dodgy prawn sannie. He had purchased it yesterday from a very large supermarket chain which will remain nameless.I tipped myself out of bed and took off down the street on what was a beautiful morning. It didn't last long. By eleven the clouds were closing in and the heavens opened at 12 just in time for the Gala parade. Why can't it just stay dry? A gaggle of soggy inhabitants of the village trailed behind the gala float on which poor wee page boys and bedraggled flower girls sat cowering under brollies. A ruddy washout. I walked the parade with L in 60's gear & H dressed in full spacesuit, holding a brolly over him and his American flag. It was amazing the amount of folk who spoke to him and said how much they liked his suit, even the teenage lads who he met in the park who told him his suit was 'smart as f***'!  Hardly appropriate but the sentiment was there. By the end even the promise of a visit to VT's cake stall wasn't enough to stop him saying he wanted to go home. I forgot my gala bag tickets and must have looked a sight pleading to an official to get them, wearing a space helmet (it was better than carrying the thing), and lugging a giant flag with soggy miniature spaceman in tow. Dispatched S to get the car and took off home as they cancelled the sports. Passed J's house and noted the soggy hippie commune looked a state and the runny banner was going to drip paint onto every visitor who appeared for the booze up.

Was glad I had left the central heating on (in June as well, what a disgrace) and we started drying soggy stuff right away and heated the pies from the gala bags in the oven for lunch. Switched on the telly. James Bond was on and I thought at least that's something we can all watch. Hilarious moment when James Bond has a miniature camera on and trains it on an attractive female's cleavage. H starts laughing and says, 'Dad, he's looking at her b..b..b...chests!'

Off to J's for soggy burgers..........

Friday, 10 June 2011

Well today is the day of the Queen's crowning and it dawned bright and sunny. Hopped off down to school, had breakfast with A and I,  and then toddled up the road to help J with the Gala preparations. With B being a herald in the Queen's court,  the house is being decorated and I ended up mixing black paint to paint a banner,  while J received the Sainsbury's delivery and her hubby cut the grass. The Sainsbury's man's knees nearly buckled under the strain of heaving the crates of booze up the drive. Tomorrow will be the barbecue to end all barbecues....actually we thought last years was outrageous, what with enough reek to ground flights  into Edinburgh Airport, enough booze to sink a battleship and our good friend R turning up to provide his usual anecdotes it was a night to remember. Especially when R got a hold of J's I-phone and impersonating her, put a rather embarrassing message on Facebook about one of the guests, who was not amused. Mind you neither would I have been if someone had announced on Facebook 'Does anyone know the number for Dynorod?  ******* has left a floater in the lavvy and it wont flush'  Snigger's all round and J left apologising profusely for her guests 'peurile' behaviour.

Took off down to the field for the crowning after a dodgy afternoon of rain but Him Upstairs was kind and kept it dry. Kids were lovely as ever, the usual gala fare - bored page boys, pretty flower girls and a lovely wee queen being entertained by the local organisations. Special mention to the local scout group. It takes a special people to run the scouts - it helps if you are off your head for starters and you must be great with kids. They are both and the leaders are amazing.

Came up the road to help J turn her abode into a Hippie Commune minus the drugs - but plenty of booze instead.......

Thursday, 9 June 2011

Happy Birthday to me! Today is my 100th post!

I love my little boy. After spending time making him an astronaut suit for the fancy dress yesterday, I trailed him down to take part (his first time) along with his sister, and he didn't get placed. Now, some kids would have been devastated about this, but not H. He could teach us all a lesson. His response when I said he hadn't won was 'yeah, I know Mum, but it doesn't matter, they gave me a pound and I have the best astronaut costume in the world. Can I go and get sweeties with my pound?'  His sister on the other hand was less forgiving.....how can two kids from the same parents have such different personalities?  Oh and I love her too, just in case anyone thought otherwise. S has barred me from entering any hand sewn costumes from now on, at least he said, until they remove Stevie Wonder and David Blunkett from the judging panel. I really don't mind at all, as I love making them and the fact that folk think they are bought is a big compliment.

Today is school sports day which usually involves lingering in the field at the school with other parents,  watching our assorted offspring bounce on space hoppers, throw stuff through hoops and jump over hurdles. None of your traditional stuff there. H was not amused. He, like myself, is not sporty. Although, I do confess to always having tried my best, but really hated P.E.  Mainly because at secondary the head of P.E. was a prize pillock, with a ego as big as his pigeon chest. And the female staff weren't much better, with more testosterone between them than the school rugby team. And then there were the showers......Anyway I digress. Arrived at 9.30 to a fully assembled field of kids and spent an hour quite literally freezing as we watched. I ended up with earache and was glad to get home. Scottish June weather is ghastly and I made sure to look out my woolly hat and gloves for the afternoon session. Honestly,  folk south of the border probably wouldn't believe the weather we suffer.

H informed me yesterday, that his pal was moving house. I checked with his mum who said they weren't,  and then asked H where he had got it from. He said that A had announced it at news time. I said he had obviously made it up for something to say. H said,  'Yes I think he was telling porcupines!'  I thought for a moment and then realised he meant 'porky pies', the rhyming slang for lies!

Wednesday, 8 June 2011

The only thing worse than being caught unawares is being caught unawares by an over confident, precocious, bratty, six year old.  This morning I walked down with the kids to school.  While in the line my sleeve was tugged by aforementioned child.  'Did H say I was coming to your house for tea?'   I looked at H who to his credit looked both mortified and panic stricken.  'When?' said I thinking 'no ruddy way'.  He said, 'You can just go and arrange it with my dad, he's over there', and pointed to some random man I had never seen before. I said 'Oh, this week's no good', thinking he would go away, but no, ten out of ten for perseverance, he said, bold as brass, 'thats okay, this Sunday between twelve and four is good for me'. I told him we had to go to H's grans on Sunday and still the little beggar persisted informing me that he could 'do' Saturday morning. I am ashamed to admit I was relieved when the teacher came and ushered them in the door.

Now, I do not mind having an adult conversation with someone who has actually gone through puberty, but there is something marginally disturbing about a six year old who can negotiate his own social life, especially when mine cannot find his own shoes half the time, let alone anything else......

Tuesday, 7 June 2011

An interesting week to be sure. L and I ventured to Glasgow on Saturday with A and J to see the Sound of Music. Why do I always get sat next to someone who has to laugh like a buffoon at the funny bits?  It was a fabulous show with the exception being Jason Donovan as Captain VonTrapp.  Excruciatingly someone wolf whistled him when he came on stage.  Mortifying.  Not so much Von Trapp and Von Cr*pp, he really should avoid singing as he was as flat as a pancake and wooden as a cricket bat when it comes to acting.  Him apart it was an amazing show and the Von Trapp kids were brilliant.  So natural, not precocious at all, like some of those ghastly stage school divas.

Prior to the show we went for afternoon tea at a bakers in Sauchiehall Street.  Fantastic!  One of those places that has been there since the year dot, serving scones and shortbread, sandwiches and cream cakes and all on the wee cake stands your Grannie used to use. Surrounded by old ladies, we had a great time scoffing the lot.

Started H's Apollo moon suit for the Gala on Thursday and set about sewing it up on Sunday.  The house now looks like it has been bombed.  As is normal prior to Gala week, J has been on the phone asking if I have certain items.  A long, black wig. Hippie clothes and anything else remotely hippie related. I obliged with L's shocking pink kaftan style thingy from Primark and her black wig from her stint as Wednesday Addams. Hilariously this is for her eight year old boy B. He is being a hippie in the fancy dress and the garden is being done up as a hippie commune.  She is letting the grass grow so it is authentic. (I think she just can be assed cutting the grass!)  Went in to see him try it on and,  after the initial horror of having to wear L's top,  he got into it big time and ran outside in the wig with a black droopy moustache stuck to his top lip with double sided sticky tape.

S very kindly as given me the cold that he had last week and taken off down south so I can be ill to my heart's content.  Not really. Still have to get on with it.  Spent the day sewing together an Apollo backpack made from two cardboard boxes and two plastic washing powder boxes as the ironing grows to gargantuan proportions.  So glad L is going as a gogo girl.  I have managed to scrounge most of her stuff, no sewing involved at all.

If this weekend is anything like last years gala we will hardly see the house, dine on chippies and barbecues and hopefully not get soaked............

Thursday, 2 June 2011

What a few days. L took off on Monday and on Tuesday H decided to have a virus. As a result I was confined to barracks with a cranky, miserable six year old. H is very rarely cranky so I felt sorry for him. He wouldn't eat and was running a temperature, had a sore head and a sore throat. He recovered a bit yesterday, but horror of horrors, was set back when he found the telly had lost the tuning for CBBC. I  had no clue how to fix it so he watched tornado chasing dvds from the couch, getting excited at terrifying twisters ripping the roofs of poor folks houses. Went to pick up L from her school trip. I think that the outdoor centre had been taken over by the 'Invasion of the Body Snatchers'.  I am sure the pleasant, polite child I put on the bus two days previously had had her personality erased and replaced with a bad tempered, rude, cheeky imposter. She jumped off the bus and grumped her way up the road, got into the house and had a go at poor H who was delighted to see her. I filled the washing machine with manky clothes and decided to ignore her. When she hadn't improved a few hours later she got a severe talking to and was sent to her bed. Probably the best place as I think she was shattered and is used to getting at least ten hours sleep a night.

The peace didn't last long. Five am and I am up again after hearing L shout from the bathroom. Walks in to a scene from 'Kill Bill'. There is blood everywhere. Her nose has started bleeding and she is sitting on the side of the bath letting it run onto the floor. Finally get the mess cleared up and the bleeding stopped and put her back to bed. Hope the CSI folk don't arrive with their fancy light. They will think there's been a murder......