Manic Monday

Mondays. I knew this Monday was going to be a Bangles-tastic* Manic Monday.

Order of play was:
8.43am Drop B at school (almost late as usual, this time due to forgetting about extra time to scrape the frost off the car)
8.55am Head straight to my volunteering stint at a local Community Health project, setting up for the Messy Play group.
9.45am-11am Make playdough, blow bubbles, and generally mess about with the kids. Great fun, but extremely exhausting!
11am-12.15pm Clean up! (it got particularly messy this week, with a very full house!)
12.15pm Drive straight to work (mondays not a work day normally) for an extra hour haring around preparing for a big meeting (today).
1.45pm Skidaddle out of work not having done everything I needed to, have 5 minutes at home to go pee, make a sandwich, pick up B's scooter and head out to to get him from school at 2.30pm, sandwich necked on the 10 minute walk there.

So, 2.30pm arrives, and I feel my headless chicken/stress levels begin to decrease as B's cheeky face appears out of school. We pop in to a friend's house on the way home, B having some play time and me some grown-up chat and a nice cuppa. Sigh. All good...

Then Manic Monday returns with a vengeance.

Oh yes, all is well (as well as it can be in a house with four school friends running about on a post-school high) until we hear a very strange and disturbing groaning sound coming from one of the kids, who it turns out to be B. He is hobbling into the living room, barely able to breathe bar this weird groaning. He then says he can't stand up properly and feels sick, as I watch the colour drain from his face (and he's a wee peelly-wally** like me at the best of times...).

He has apparently slipped on the stairs and fallen back, smacking the top of his back on the edge of the stairs.

The continual groaning and tingling in his arms and legs now has me really freaked out, I phone the gp and they advise me to take him to A&E. So I lift him into the car, plastic bag to hand in case he barfs, and we leg it to the hospital.

I'm vaguely aware when I put money in the parking meter near the hospital that the ticket is reading the wrong date and time and I silently dare any parking attendant to give me a parking fine.

I carry B into A&E and we sit and wait. Slowly, the colour returns to his face, and he can stand up by the time the triage nurse sees us.

When we're seen by the doctor an hour later, B is definitely on the mend, but the doctor assures me that I did the right thing bringing him in given it was an injury to his back. B actually seems to enjoy the funny bending and stretching exercises the Doc gets him to do, to check movement, etc.


And as for what the reflex hammer thingy does, "it's like magic!"




Assured there is no significant damage to his back bar some bruising, we take our tired and hungry selves home, by this time well past bath time. B's appetite not diminished (a good sign!) he scoffs some home-made  quicky macaroni, a quick face-wash and into bed. I didn't last too much longer and followed suit.

No more Manic Mondays, please. My friend also reminded me it was a full moon last night too...

* I will feel really old if you don't know Manic Monday by The Bangles...
** a good ol' Scottish phrase meaning pale. 

Smart Boy

Ah, you gotta love the little one-liners your offspring come out with, dontcha?

Case in point 1:
We're at the park today playing frisbee (yes, lots of the UK did NOT have any snow today, BBC!!), and as we go to leave in the car, I realise that two cars have pretty much boxed me in, one of them literally touching my front bumper. and there's loads of spaces so no need for this. grrrr. but I only tut and say nothing.

"IDIOT!" pipes up B.
Me, slightly taken aback by B's ferocity: "That's not really a nice thing to call someone, is it?"
B: "But you call other drivers that all the time when you're driving."

Hmm. Can't argue with that.


Me: "Well we really shouldn't call people 'idiot'".

Cut to several minutes later when I have to bump both cars in order to get out of the space.

Me: "You're right B, they're idiots".
B: "See, I told you".

Smart boy.


Case in point 2:
After a fun afternoon, B gives me one of his best cuddles and says:
"When I grow up, can I marry you?"

Forget the oedipal/freudian overtones, who can argue with that?!

He must NEVER change...

Dear So and So...

Oof, I know it's not supposed to be good blogging etiquette to do too many Linky's in a row, but have been wanting to join in Dear So and So over at 3 Bedroom Bungalow for ages and usually leave it too late.


So forgive my blogging folly.













Dear Lady at Sainsbury's checkout - Part I
I know I look younger than my years, and I know that my new fringe and lack of makeup this morning may have made me look younger, but did I really not look old enough to buy a bottle of wine?! Surely one good thing about being ... *gasps* 37 ... is the fact I don't have to worry about being ID'd?? Apparently not it seems. And as for your colleague thinking I look "at least 18, if not 25"... gee, thanks.

Yours in bewilderment, Legitimately Allowed to Consume Alcohol

* * *

Dear Lady at Sainsbury's checkout - Part II
On the flip side of being ID'd for buying a bottle of wine, I should also thank you for thinking that I may not be old enough to buy said bottle!

Yours smugly, Way Older than you Think

* * *

Hey you, groups of high school kids walking past B and I
OPEN YOUR FLIPPIN' EYES! Every single Friday, at least one of you fails to see us coming towards you - even when you seemingly are looking right at us, WHAT IS THAT ABOUT?! - and trips over us. TAKE YOUR TEENAGE BLINKERS OFF!!

Yeh Cheers, Your fellow Pavement users

* * *

Dear Cold Virus
OK, time to beat it. And don't think you can slink your way into B on your way oot the door either.

Yours, Spaced out and Blocked up

* * *

Dear B
It's Friday teatime, i'm missing your wee face already. You'd think nearly 2 years on I'd be used to this arrangement. Apparently not. Can't wait to see you tomorrow wee yin!

Mummy xxx

* * *

Dear Bathroom
If I leave the Cif Power Cleaner out, any chance of giving yourself a clean? I got better things to do tonight, like catching up on Sky+ stuff. Much obliged.

Yours in blind hope.

* * *

Reasons to be cheerful - Week 5

I turned 37 last December, and today was shocked to have my very first "oh-my-god-I'm-nearly-40-what-have-I-done-with-my-life" moment, as I sat in the hair salon looking at an article in one of those 'in trend' magazines (the ones with way more adverts than articles) about all these uber-successful woman much younger than me.

So I think I need to stop and do a bit of Reasons to be Cheerful before I start to panic.
Reasons to be cheerful right now:

1. B has not (yet) picked up my hideously stuffy cold which has had me spaced out for several days.

2. I had my hair done today and it was 40% off in a promotion.

3. A year after being made redundant, I now know what it is I would like to do, career-wise. (Have no idea how to get there, but first things first).

4. I am still in love with my new bed and still look at it and marvel at how I put it together all by myself!

5. I actually finished reading a book which wasn't self-help/parenting/separation guidance/work related.

6. I know it's frrrrrreeezing out there, but I love it when it's really cold but bright and sunny like it's been here the past few days. Perfect winter weather.


That'll do me just now.

Blog-hop on over to see others...

The Gallery - Me Right Now

Sticky Fingers' photo challenge this week for The Gallery, Me Right Now.



As I have a STINKING cold - one of those ones where you feel you have cotton wool stuffed inside your brain, but still your nose keeps on running - I will not subject anyone to a photo of my luminous red nose that would make Rudolph jealous. And eyes, red, tired, etc.

What I have just been doing, in the hopes that I will feel well enough to go to my writing class tonight, is finishing my homework assignment. 1000 words to introduce a memorable character, what problem(s) they face and how they might overcome it/them. Between getting through almost a whole box of tissues. These ones have menthol on them, which would be good if I could smell a damn thing.

Also have just finished reading Michael Morpungo's War Horse, which was on our class reading list. Not sure I will go see the film, however, it was harrowing enough reading it. Would definitely need to take the next box of tissues with me if I went...