This might as well be titled ‘A round-up of indeterminate length, with or without pictures depending on internet signal’ – we’ll see! So much has happened which I’ve managed to miss.
We moved. You know that already. What you don’t know is that after that first, magical day when my wonderful Aunty unpacked so, SO much, the unpacking slowed to a near stop as the cumulative effect of the stress of undertaking the move left me with a wonderfully productive chest infection – trust me, the 60-a-day set had nothing on me! I even took time off and said ‘No’ to important engagements and cancelled my attendance at meetings – a practically unheard-of event. I’m sure the moon must’ve been blue or something! Or perhaps I am gradually learning to look after myself a little.
Fortunately by the time Easter weekend rolled around, I was well enough to join in (just).
I managed to cry my way through most of a Maundy Thursday prayer service at church (tell God something you’re finding hard – 2 miscarriages and pending infertility? Can’t think of too much to struggle with there, huh?) and then NOT cry through services on Good Friday and Easter Day, which was a relief for the skin round my eyes as well as for Husby’s levels of ‘Worrying About Wifey’.
A family Easter Egg hunt rounded the afternoon off nicely and we made it all the way through without any meltdowns (Neff or Niece, this time, not me). At some point there was a real fire in the grate (lovely, delicious warmth) and there was a game of Scrabble. Having gotten into the habit of writing the minutiae of my life and being able to check back on my own posts to see what I was up to, a week and a half has passed and I can recall little of it! Take heed, ye fellow bloggers, for potentially the commitment of your life to whatever corner of the internet you call home may be depleting the capacity of your short-term memory and allowing it to atrophy!
Since then I’ve done another wonderful stint staying with my dear Sis, helping out with Niece and Neff, which has been super fun (mostly).
Day 1 – Settling in. Visit to the supermarket. Visit to the park on bikes. Neff has now (mostly) gone off superheroes and likes to play ‘Scientists’ instead, which involves a large amount of making potions, eye-lasers and defeating a mysterious baddie who goes by ‘The Emperor’. Cue much running around (did I mention that the Scientist often gets his best potions stolen by a robber (me) and has to chase the robber all over the park. This was the sad afternoon when I realised I wasn’t better yet, and could hear the rattles and wheezes in my chest when I stopped, gasping, after being able to run around about 1/3 of the play area, rather than the usual circuits and circuits I usually manage.)
Day 2 – Visit to Great Grandad (both kids protesting and shy, up to the point Great Grandad offered chocolate and then they were too busy showing him their forward rolls, balances, flips and abilities on the DS to be shy). Lunch from the Golden Arches drive through (a rarity for me, though, I discover, not for my Mum, who frequently takes them all there! This is the woman who helped to enforce a TOTAL ban on the place through my childhood – I never had a Happy Meal (I mean, OK, there was a CJD crisis on at the time (gotta love 80’s England), but STILL!!)) and eaten in a lovely waterfront car park down the road. There was enough time to build a fir-cone pile and play in the playpark (Neff: “This is my Cave of Wonders. You have to help me make a potion! We need some oxygen”) before some shopping and the Instance of the Disappearing Parking Ticket.
Have you parked in one of those multi-storey car parks where you get your ticket at the barrier on the way in and pay in the machine in the shop before returning to your car, then feed the ticket back into another machine to be allowed to leave via another barrier? I got the ticket. I drove through the barrier with it in my teeth. I talked about change to pay the machine. By the time we were all out, had climbed stairs and gone halfway down a walkway and I remembered the need for the ticket, it had vanished into thin air. So I asked for volunteers to help me find it. Cue two obliging children. We returned to the car (along the walkway, up two flights of stairs, along the car-park) and ransacked it. No ticket. I re-checked my bag. I re-checked my purse. I re-re-checked all my pockets. I looked under the car. Nada. Zero. Zip. Dammit!
When we returned to the machines, Sis found me the intercom button where you can talk to a Real Person and tell them
you’re an incompetent idiot that you lost your ticket and they ask your car registration, check your name (how do they know?!) and remotely make the machine print you a replacement ticket so you can leave. Thank goodness. I’m sure they’ve now marked me down in a book of ninnies. At least they let us leave.
That evening, while Niece napped, Neff and I went on an adventure with Husby. Initially this involved Getting Man Some Food (me having the car and all – kinda needed to help the fella out). It ended up encompassing trips to multiple hardware outlets to seek bunk-bed fixings (wherein Neff was educated about the importance of colourways, Brand Integrity and Advertising after asking why all the Stanley products were black and yellow. He then went on to choose precisely which colourway HIS drills would have in HIS shop, which is MUCH better than THIS shop, and is called ‘Mr Exxo’s Hard Shop’ (I did have to ask (between giggles) if he might’ve meant ‘hardware’ – he did).
While we’re on the point of Hardware and Men, I need some feedback (from both sides of the argument) on whether or not Husby should score any Man Points for this occasion.
#1 – Husby said the threaded dowel screwed into the end of the (currently in many pieces) bed. I said it didn’t. He demonstrated by apparently screwing the dowel into the bed. I demonstrated on the next hole along that there was no thread, and in fact, there was a hidden cross-dowel. A fixing. NOT part of the bed.
#2 – In the first shop, they had no cross-dowels and referred us to another supplier. Husby remembered seeing a store locally. We went, he was right. We’d not travelled that road in over a fortnight. He wanted points for that, yet the man can lose anything as important as his house keys, wallet, phone or insulin as soon as put them down. I contested, he held out.
We’re still at an impasse on both. I’m open to input.
Day 3 – A morning of chores, a quick lunch and then the crowning point of the week – a visit to the cinema! Last year we discovered the hard way that it’s incredibly stressful to take a 4 y/o and a 2 y/o to the cinema, even to see a film about pirates. This year, we discovered that the now 5 y/o will sit beautifully, only need one toilet break, only be slightly scared at the suspenseful bits and only a little fazed by the loudness (BECAUSE CINEMAS ONLY HAVE ONE VOLUME – DEAFENING) and will be an absolute pleasure to sit with. The 3 y/o we learned, is best taken AFTER a nap. We learned that the hard way. The great thing was that perhaps the researchers for the character of Baby Crood have met Niece before in this mood…at least it was reassuring that she was conforming to the stereotype of a slightly fractious, unruly, Small Person.
On the way back, Neff was in high spirits, Niece was asleep. Cue an hour outside playing further versions of ‘Scientists and Robbers’, ‘Police and Robbers’, ‘Ninjas’ and ‘Superheroes’. Somehow I always get cast as the villain. Even when I was (yet again) Mumm-Ra, Neff managed to invent a way of beating me (break my pyramid) then to make me better “So I can defeat you properly” but we had lots of rough and tumble, and I was pleased to note a distinct lack of wheezing or rattling from the direction of the ol’ lungs.
The evening was rounded off by dinner (have you ever woken a sleeping 3 y/o and tried to feed it? Ohmigosh! Let sleeping kids lie!) and a starlit bath (their new ‘thing’ is an LED lamp which projects constellations through holes poked in a screen around it. I’ve described it badly – it’s awesome).
At this point I left (kisses declined) and went for a long, relaxing walk-and-a-chat with a good friend, with whom I have entered a mutual agreement to Become Fit. We may even enter a short race in summer. So far we’ve proved pretty miserable at running, great at walking and outstanding at chatting. We’ve also both committed to Not Buying Cheese When This One Runs Out. We’ll see how long that lasts.
Tomorrow’s a brand new day, then, and with a consistent signal, I shall once again be able to tell you allllll about it. Lucky, lucky you.
Until then, I’ll leave you with a selection of pictures of The New House (with a small disclaimer for my hair – I was too tired to wash it on the penultimate day of Old House and once we’d moved, I managed to get to it before it got its own heartbeat but not before it began to Move As One).
|Our lovely hallway. Great for bowling, car racing and LIGHT!|
|Our bedroom. View of park. Now with bed.|
|That moment where the boxes ganged up on me a little bit|
|The living room before it got Aunty’d|
|The First Cup Of Tea. A momentous occasion (sadly marred by old water in the pipes and remedied by a kind neighbour with non-musty water while we ran the taps a while)|
|Furniture in, living room satisfyingly Aunty’d|
|Other view of the living room – in pride of place; Herbert Augustus Tortoise, a treasured friend from my whole life (somewhere my Mum has a photo of me leaning on him, learning to walk)|
|Our Real Front Door. With number.|
|Second bedroom, complete with argument-inducing pieces of bed.|
|The park across the road. I’m such a local bunny that this has always been my local park. Poor Husby had to move here from Ireland to make it his. Now that’s commitment to your Nearby Green Space.|