New Year, New Rules

2011: The Year of...

I suppose my first resolution should be to be a bit more punctual. I mean, come on really, New Year’s resolutions on the 5th of January? That is not fooling anyone. But no, that is not worthy of a resolution. I used to be punctual and it was dull. I now have an excuse not to be. She is about 9 months old and called CK!

I broke one of my resolutions on New Year’s Day at breakfast time. What a loser. 2011: The Gluten Free Year. It was never going to happen.

I think as a committed stay at home mum (who has NO desire to return to work for the time being) it would be better to give 2011 the subtitle The Year of Living Frugally. I do have a bank account. It just has nothing in it. So here goes...

Birthday presents this year will all be handmade with love. So those of you who know me, please expect something somewhat squiffy, somewhat overstuffed, somewhat sticky-taped and somewhat ‘rustic’. Just know that I have put my heart into it. So be nice.

The fridge shall be empty before I go to the supermarket. I shall use up all the food that I buy. I found this great website Love Food Hate Waste that will help me to use everything up so that hopefully husband won’t have to eat mackerel, olive and broccoli omelettes. Sorry husband.

Taking my inspiration from the very lovely Kirstie Allsop (Oh how I love you Kirstie) I shall make my home into a wonderful haven of homemade wonder. I shall blow glass, I shall sew and knit, I shall stain all my glass windows. I shall wear wonderful shoes, and billowing coats and an oversized fur hat. I shall buy a ‘doer upper’ in Devon and harp on about how I have transformed it back to life. Oh no, hang on, my bank account definitely won’t stretch to that.

I shall, however, spend less money on baby and more time with her. Which may mean less blogging. Eek. (see Granny Bloggings resolutions!).

That all seems very frugal. And noble. And unachievable. Perhaps I will turn into a wonderful Martha Stewart style domestic goddess....Or maybe I’ll just pop out to the shops to take my mind off it all.

Mummatron

Granny Bloggings Commitments for 2011

Well, I suppose we had to do this one it is kinda de rigeur at this time of year.

So, for what it’s worth, here they are;

1. Try to keep up with my daughter at this blogging lark.

Being home-bound has turned her into a blogging supremo, or should that be an obsessive? It is hard to prise her warm little fingers from the keyboard these days now that she has discovered a form of adult communication which she can do whilst the baby hangs onto her pyjama-clad leg drooling and gurgling. I can just imagine her comments on other peoples’ blog sites winging across the world like a computer virus, is it possible that she may, single-handedly bring the whole world wide web crashing to a halt in 2011?

2. Try to stop worrying so much.

Becoming a granny has not helped my problem of seeing all manner of terrors lurking in the most unlikely of places; germs on door handles. Ice on the road, ice in the water pipes, ice sliding off a roof ready to decapitate one of my nearest and dearest. Other drivers, who are all morons. High winds which might blow my house down. Torrential rain which might flood my house down. My daughter driving on roads which certainly contain other drivers of the moronic persuasion, ice, high winds or torrential rain and there may even be germs on her door handles…. Argh!

3. To turn 60 with grace.

I know will find it hard to believe but yes, it’s true I shall be sixty this year. OK, so it's not so unbelievable, but how did it happen? It was only yesterday that I was 6 – I remember it well, although what I did last week is a complete mystery. So I shall be starting my grace-lessons this week as New Years' Resolution number three, any helpful hints?

4. To spend as much time as I can with my most adorable granddaughter.

During the festive season we all took a turn on the night shift so I spent several hours over the two weeks administering a bottle, then rocking and patting little CK back to sleep. Can there be anything more wonderful than a quiet middle of the night alone with a perfect, sleeping, snuggling, smiling, dreaming, grandchild? I wish it on all of you! It is so much more fulfilling than merely sleeping! I know this must sound like insanity to those of you whose sole aim in life right now is to get a complete nights’ sleep but that is the joy of granny-hood.

5. To teach the world to use the apostrophe of possession where it is supposed to be after the s! That should bring in a flood of comments but I shall be learning how not to worry so I shan't care!

I think that is quite enough to be going on with so I am off to eat a butter-dripping crumpet in front of the fire despite my already discarded New Years Resolution to loose a few pounds …

Granny Bloggings

Week 14: Getting on...

Crows Feet and other fun...

One of CK’s favourite moments in the mornings is to have a quick squizz at us in the mirror. She loves it. I am horrified by it. What has happened to me? Her peachy, perfect soft skin serves only to exaggerate my creased, lined, aged, old skin. And it is not just the complexion that is suffering...

I have always prided myself on my interest in everything current and as a music fan, have always tried to stay one step ahead of the charts - I like to think that I am ‘over’ most number 1s before they make it there. No more. I switched on Radio 1 the other day (having crossed over to Radio 4 during my pregnancy) and found myself mumbling under my breath, in much the same style as my grandfather, “What is this rubbish? It’s doesn’t even seem to make sense grammatically!!” I swiftly re-tuned the wireless and was wrapped in the warmth of my equally uncool friends Libby Purves, Jenny Murray and Evan Davis (although I think he is secretly very cool, he’s just not allowed to show it to the Radio 4 listernership).

I also tried logging on to Twitter this week (which is what has sparked off this tirade) and I just don’t understand it. I don’t know what I am supposed to do on there, why I would want to use it or what the point is. And I’m a media teacher for God’s sake!

Is this another ‘symptom’ of pregnancy? Is it nature’s way of making sure that CK can forge her own identity without me trying to hop on board the latest trends? I’m not sure. But I do know this. Tempah is spelt like this: temper. A chipmunk is a little squeaky rodent. Tweets are what birdies do. And gaga is what you are after childbirth, and no, it isn’t cool at all.

p.s. if you don’t understand the last paragraph... you know what that means... you are past it too! Hurray!
The Mummatron


Getting Old

With this topic I think I may have a bit of an advantage. My next birthday is the big 60, is that old? Well some mornings it feels like a Methuselah-fest and other mornings I can skip out of bed like the proverbial spring woolly thing, you know, the one you eat with mint sauce …. And there’s the main problem about getting old, never mind the groans, creaks and windy emissions it’s the lack of ability to access your random memory base that is the most frustrating part of it. It helps if you have been married as long as I have because my husband and I have known each other since we were 16 so we can sew a pretty good patchwork of memories between us, but some days that just isn’t enough for either of us.

As old age creeps silently up behind you with cold twiggy fingers outstretched you learn all sorts of new skills; how not to scream when the chiropracter chops down on your spine with the full force of her boney little hands; how to keep your opinions to yourself now that you have learnt that you will never change a racist Fascist; how to plan how you will get up again before sitting on the floor, and always, always avoid large bean bag chairs, especially when the phone is likely to ring – over there on the table – argh!

My latest lesson in ageing is that babies are not what they used to be. I hardly dare do anything with my little granddaughter CK without checking with my daughter if it is OK these days to: feed her banana; go within 15 feet of her if I am wearing any synthetic materials; lay her on her – side – tummy – back, although obviously not her head, we never even did that in the Old Days. And the nappies! My goodness how they have all changed. When changing CKs’ nappy I first have to find my reading glasses and get stuck into the introductory course on how to open the baby wipes and how to use them. Then the nappies themselves require quite advanced training on type, size and absorbability, not to mention which nappy cream to use when and where! I suppose this is all good training for when I shall have to start stealing her nappies for myself, but I am keeping my ever so slightly arthritic fingers crossed that that will be a long time in the future.

Granny Bloggins