Category Archives: Thoughts

“If You Don’t Know What Work To Do, Do the Work That’s In Front Of You.”

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The title of this post was said by an American President. I am just not sure which one. It might have been Hoover. I’ve tried look it up on the ‘net but I am not getting anywhere. I know I read it in a Cook’s Illustrated Magazine but I am not sure what issue. If anyone knows who said, do please put it in the comments.

Anyway, whenever I am feeling overwhelmed by life, which happens quite a lot with a toddler, a company and house to run and constant aches and fatigue, I pull that quote into my brain and look around. And I find the thing in front of me that a) most needs doing and b) I have the spoons for.

Today it was folding the laundry mountain. My laundry mountain comes out of the fact that I have combination washer/dryer and the dryer takes, literally, hours to dry things. So if I put a load on in the morning, it might be dry by lunch. But it might not. So then I have to wait to fold it. I know a lot of people will do things like that after their child is in bed. I am not a lot of people. By the time Adam is in bed my spoons are gone.

Now, this was a particularly high laundry mountain. You see, in the last 14 days I have taken 2 days to be ill. One day with a migraine and one day with just general” OMG I hurt”. And those 2 days off put me about a week behind. Due to my fibro I can’t really count on being able to do a lot all at once, so I do it in small bits. I “do the work that’s in front of me”. And doing nothing for 2 days really got things piling up.

So today the thing in front of me was the laundry.

Tomorrow it will be work I am paid for and (hopefully) some work on the marketing I am trying to get together for the company.

After taking Adam to nursery and having a cuppa at my favourite coffee shop.

Also, remember this?

After a boil with a dishwasher tab, a scrub with bicarb, a boil with bicarb and another scrub it now looks like this:

So I live in hope.

I Really Didn’t Intend To Write About The Riots

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but as more and more of my fellow bloggers, who live in the areas affected, do, I feel I have to say something.

And that something is; I’m not surprised. I think the UK, nay the world, is ripe for revolution.

Why?

Because our leaders are 100% out of touch. They honestly think that what they are doing is right and good. But it is wrong and bad.

You can’t remove the ability to have basic rights from people and not expect them to react. You can’t take away their jobs with no other jobs available and expect them to thank you because you’re reducing the country’s debt. You can’t ask them to donate to the starvation across the world while they watch their children starve.

And, yes, some of the rioters were children and people are asking where those particular parents are. Their parents might be working 2 or 3 crappy jobs to keep food on the table and a roof over their heads.

Not all of the rioters were children. Not all were poor. But all, it seems to me, are fed up.

Fed up of non-leaders.

Fed up of the rich getting richer while the poor get poorer.

Fed up of not having any opportunities to get ahead.

Fed up of hearing from the people leading their countries that they are doing what they are doing for ‘their own good’.

Whose own good?

Rising fuel prices, due to taxation, leading to rising food prices is not for my own good. Or my son’s. Or anyone I know.

Until the government wakes up and gets a clue there will be more riots. Maybe not today or tomorrow. But soon.

Very very soon.

Feeling Like A Fraud

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I was once part of a discussion on Mumsnet regarding when we all felt like mothers. My answer was that it was the moment they took Adam away from me to put him in an incubator in SCBU. All I wanted was to be with my baby and I couldn’t, least of all because my spinal block hadn’t worn off and I couldn’t feel anything from the waist down, never mind get up and walk.

But that’s not entirely true. Because I still have many moments, nearly every day, when I feel like a fraud. That I want to see who is standing behind me when someone calls me ‘Mummy’. Even when that someone is me.

I felt it at least once today, when Adam and I were playing with his new garbage truck, one of many vehicle related gifts Grandma gave him while she was here, and I said to him ‘Hand that to Mummy.’ And I had a moment of ‘Wait. Who? Hand it to who?!?’

I’ve written before about never having a ‘OMG I’m the Mummy’ over the top freak out moment, a la Jamie in the old US sitcom Mad About You. But I seem to have small moments of it through out the day.

Another example is one day when I went to pick Adam up from daycare and half of his class were in the garden and the rest were inside so the nursery staff outside shouted through the window ‘Adam’s Mummy is here!’ I honestly had to stop myself from turning around to see who was behind me.

I liken this feeling to a moment I had, albeit once, after my brother had his first daughter. I was driving somewhere, idly thinking, as you do, and it suddenly hit me; ‘OMG my brother is a father!!!!’ I mentioned to him and he said ‘Yeah, I have that thought a lot!’

11 and half years on I haven’t asked him if he still has that thought or not. If I am going to have these ‘OMG I’m a Mummy!’ thoughts for the rest of my life or if they pass.

I think I’ll ask him. J? You reading this? Do you still have those moments?!?!

Hey! Thanks For The Blog Post Topic!

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Due to a variety of stupid (a word I never use, but this was) and asinine posts on Mumsnet last night, my Twitter feed exploded.

A new member of the Mumsnet bloggers network decided she needed to introduce herself by announcing that everyone of course knew who she was (never heard of her) and that she’d be happy to help all us poor, new, ignorant bloggers learn how to blog. O_o

It didn’t go down well and I started the push back.  She got my back up. And I said so. I didn’t call her names. I didn’t do anything but be my usual honest self.

And then the Twitter attack followed. I had hidden the thread because once the arguments start going in circles I get bored and move on and yet her and her followers decided to take the conversation to another medium. And attack me. I have been called a bully, told I should be ashamed of myself and other things.

I went to bed. I did say I wouldn’t remember any of this by today, which of course was hyperbole to show how much I didn’t care. And I don’t care.

But one person’s form of attack was to Tweet that someone should teach me how to add pictures and a ‘good header’ to my site. And that made me laugh (have you heard of my company? No? Designed To A Tee? We do graphics. Including internet ones. I own it.).

Anyway, that one I responded to. Because while pictures are nice, they are hardly required. Oh and I like the design of my blog. Or I’d change it.

And I was told blogs need pictures.

Okay then. Tell me…what picture would you use when writing about fibro? Or diabetes? Or Depression? Or this post right here?

Writing about my son? Okay, maybe a picture would be nice. But I don’t just write about my son.

I write about me. And sometimes me is not graphical.

Even if I am a graphic artist.

PS I have asked MNHQ for some clarification as to what the network is for. I thought it was for the MN community along with some ‘famous’ bloggers to give it umph. I didn’t know they were inviting random bloggers to join. I haven’t heard anything back yet, but I may be dropping off the network as it is apparently not what I thought it was. I also may not. I’ll keep you posted.

I Am Wondering Where It Was

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I learned to cook.

I honestly have no idea.

I was thinking about this tonight as I put meatballs together for dinner. I know where the recipe is from (The Silver Spoon). I even know what changes I have made from that recipe to get to the meatballs I am serving tonight.

But where did I learn how to finely mince garlic with a knife? How to chop an onion in pieces using the shape of it to help?

I know some of it was from watching cooks on TV, Jeff Smith, the Frugal Gourmet for one. I had no idea he died. RIP. Or that he was accused of sexually abusing young boys. But I did like watching his show. Especially when Elmo was on.

But the rest of it? Knowing how to change a recipe to suit my (and now my family’s taste)? I have no memory.

I suppose my mom taught me some of it. She’s a very good cook. And my brother, he cooks gourmet and is fussy to the point of throwing things away if he thinks they aren’t up to his standards. I often think he should have opened a restaurant.

I do love to cook. From recipes. From memory. From cookbooks and TV shows and, now, the internet and my iPhone.

With my mother visiting what to cook is in my head. She will make chicken soup with matzoh balls at least once. And I’ll get her to make a meatloaf (Simon likes hers more than mine. Fact.) one night. But what else shall we have?

For her first night I am making my ‘dinner party’ meal of Chicken Casserole (also from Silver Spoon), stuffed courgette (a recipe I actually got from her and tweaked) and garlic mashed potatoes. However, my mother cannot have alcohol of any sort since her pancreas attack of a year ago June so Chicken Casserole will be made with stock rather than wine. I hope it’s as good. I’ll let you know.

She has requested my Shepherd’s Pie and my Paella, so I’ll make both of those, with an alternate for Adam on Paella night. He hates Paella. Fact.

I wonder what else I should cook…

 

Memories…

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After a month of a sick child equalling very bad or very little sleep my memory and aphasia have, once again, taken a nose dive. When this happens I always start thinking about memory and memories in general.

I have very few childhood memories. I have no idea why this is but you’ll find my brother says the same thing. Makes me wonder, sometimes, what we’ve both blocked.

The memories I do have are (mostly) good ones.

I remember being in our condo in Manchester Connecticut and my dad bought a new stereo that could record tapes and my brother and I making a recording and getting called to dinner. I remember then wondering why all that time at dinner wasn’t a big empty space on the tape.

I remember my dad’s CB radio in our playroom of our first house in Westport.

I also remember having cousins or maybe friends over to stay and we were all sleeping down in that same playroom and there was a burning smell (I was asleep) and I woke up to a house full of firemen because we had placed a sofa cushion over a light and it had burned.

I remember sitting under the big tree in front of that same house crying as my divorcing parents fought in the living room. My brother was with me.

I remember the poem my step-dad wrote me when I got my stereo for my birthday. Not exactly what it said but that he went to the trouble. Something about ‘always trying to do what she aughta.’ He was lying. :O)

I remember packing my car to drive to Iowa to go to University.

And every time Adam climbs up on a piece of furniture I remember a picture. It is of me as quite a small baby, only a few months old, if that. My mom is holding me on a sun lounger in the backyard of our house in Holliston MA and my brother, who is only 22 months older than me,  is in the act of climbing up to join us. Adam climbs just like his uncle.

I do often wonder, though, what I’ve forgotten…

Smoking…My One True Addiction

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So on or about 18th October 2008 I quit smoking. That was the day I woke Simon by bursting into our bedroom at 6 am shouting ‘This thing says pregnant!!’

I managed to not smoke for my whole pregnancy and about the 1st year of Adam’s life. And then things turned upside down. My great night sleeper turned into a nightmare sleeper thanks to surgery and colds and flu and D&V and and and…

And I all I wanted to help with my exhaustion? A cigarette. Oh how good a cigarette would taste.

And about a year ago, after he’d been in daycare for a few months, I succumbed. I bought a 10 pack. I told Simon, who was very disappointed in me but agreed I was a grown up. And I promised him I wouldn’t smoke around Adam.

And I haven’t. I smoke when he’s at daycare. Or after he’s in bed. Or having a nap during the day.

But last night I decided to try and quit again. Smoking comes out of my weekly allowance budget and I want that money for other things. I don’t like the way it makes me feel. Or smell.

And I have enough health problems without adding tar and cyanide to the mix.

So today I proclaim my first day as a non-smoker.

I just hope I can stick with it.

Torchwood – Miracle Day

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First of all fair warning: there will be spoilers in this post for Torchwood – Children of Earth. It was on 2 years ago and that’s long enough for people to have seen it.

So last night we watched the new US/UK version of Torchwood. And it was ‘meh’.

This is for a couple of reasons. The first being that, apparently, Children of Earth never happened, with the exception of The Hub being blown up. No one other than Jack and Gwen seem to remember the 456 (even though the numbers are used in Miracle Day, they don’t seem to reference the aliens) or the fact that 10% of the children of Earth were to be taken. Never mind that Jack killed his grandson to stop them. This made him, in my and others estimation, unredeemable. I just don’t care about him any more after that action. Life of the one for the life of the many, yeah yeah, whatever. I personally think Russell T wrote himself into a corner and took the worst way out possible.

The other reason I was disappointed was because you hear ‘US Alien show’ and you think big explosions, major special effects, great costumes. This had maybe 3 explosions, none of the huge, and the special effects they did have were, frankly, gross. Way over the top gross, in fact.

So I will continue to watch, as Simon will continue to watch. And we are both interested to see what the difference is between the US and the UK version, as we know there will be differences.

But it needs to get much much better before I’ll fall in love with it.

And…I miss Ianto. *sniff*

My First Post From WordPress App

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Well, lookee here! I had no idea there was a WordPress App!

So far I like it. Seems easy to use. And, a huge plus, I can have both my blogs on it!

That’s really good for Designed To A Tee‘s blog as I often see interesting design things going about my day and now I can blog about them instantly!

iPhone keyboard isn’t the best for this but as I am hoping for an iPad soon maybe I won’t have to use my iPhone for this much longer!

Especially as we are going to win £166b in the Euromillions tomorrow.

::nods::

Let’s Talk About Internet Forums in General

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And Mumsnet in particular.

For anyone who missed it, the official launch of the Mumsnet Bloggers network was yesterday. Me and hundreds like me are now being fed directly to their Blogger Network Site as and when we update. They also have some ‘famous’ bloggers working with them but the main number of bloggers are also MN members.

Now, a lot of MN members like being anonymous. They change their user name frequently (this is allowed on MN, BTW) to keep their privacy intact. In fact, a lot of MN users don’t even like telling people they use MN.

I, personally, don’t get either of these attitudes, but each to her own. What ever makes you comfortable is fine with me.

But I was thinking about why I and millions like me even use MN and other parenting networks and had a very unoriginal thought. It’s because it proves we are not alone in this great ocean of parenting choices. That others have been there before and others will be there after.

Like I said, not original. But it was really brought home to me yesterday after I posted the following story from this week:

(Note: Copy and pasted from this thread that I started yesterday)

“So my mobile rings and I see it’s my son’s day care.

The manager is on the other end and she’s saying ‘Hi, how are you?’

To which I reply, ‘I’m fine, is my son okay?!?!’

‘Yes he’s fine.’

To which I had to reply ‘You know what? He’s not even there. He’s home sick.’ blush blush

Of course, she had no idea he wasn’t there as she hadn’t been in the fledgling room yet today. And she was calling about something completely different…”

And 4 or 5 different people posted that they had done very similar things. And I felt a little less loony!

And that’s the power of MN. Not just that we come together when people need us, whether on a live labour thread or a cry for help with an ill child. Not just that we have a good laugh and lots of in-jokes.

It’s that we are never alone.

No matter how loony we are being!