Wednesday, 27 January 2016

January Blues

Hearth-Father is in the throes of some sort of mid-life crisis.

We have a rowing machine in our bedroom.

Alcohol is but a distant memory, 'carbohydrate' has become a dirty word, sugar is the devil's work.
In a thank you letter to friends who invited us for supper last weekend, I felt the need to apologise for our 'uncharacteristic sobriety' and promise that it wouldn't happen again. 'Microbiome' has entered our vocabulary.

In the sixteen years that we have been together I have never known Hearth-Father come home from work and not have a glass of cider. Men's Health magazine has a lot to answer for.

Time to take stock as we near the end of our self-imposed Dry January.

I should be pounds heavier in the bank from all of the money saved from not buying wine. Surely?
I should be pounds lighter in the flesh from all the healthy eating...?

Neither.

And, for some reason, I seem to shout at the kids more.

Roll on February.



Currently reading: The Gut Makeover by Jeanette Hyde (in keeping with the theme)

Thursday, 21 January 2016

How Long Before Robot Gets It?

Junk modelling.

It's got a lot to answer for.

Every day that Eddie goes to preschool I find his 'picture bag' bulging with objets d'art. Jet-packs, light sabers, swords, shields, things cut from magazines and stuck, inexplicably, on thick cardboard. We need Pickfords just to get out of the building.

Each lovingly crafted item then comes in for further complex additions and embellishments. Tonight, for example, we had to make paper flames to protrude from the end of the Button Moon inspired rocket (itself made from two flowerpots, a cardboard tube and two tonnes of sellotape).

These are not neat little pictures that can easily be stored away for posterity. They are giant mountains of junk.  Take robot, for example, in the picture below.

So how long, realistically, should these items be on display? Is half an hour enough?

Our neighbours must think that we are super-green due to the amount our recycling has increased in recent months.

And I have got very good at feigning surprise when we can't find something the following morning.  Though I can't help casting a guilty look in the direction of the fire...

So, how long before robot gets it?





Currently reading: All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr

Wednesday, 6 January 2016

How Not to Receive A Christmas Gift

In the tumble back to school for the new year, we missed a haircut for Eddie.

Consequently he looks like a young Justin Bieber. Never an image I would have consciously sort, and bizarrely inappropriate for a four year old.

But that is the least of my problems.  I know that one of the joys of children is watching them speak their mind, but, when a close family friend arrived at the weekend bearing some late Christmas gifts, the conversation went something like this:

L: Happy Christmas Eddie! (Handing over wrapped present)

E: What is it? (Sound of tearing paper)

L: It's a hat. I thought it would suit you.

E: Ugh. I hate it. (Throws present up in the air and runs from the room)

L: (Laughs, awkwardly)

E: (Running back in) Anyway, are you having a baby?

L: (Shocked) Er...no, I'm not.

E: Oh. Why are your boobies so large, then?


She didn't stay long.




Currently reading: Waiting for Sunrise by William Boyd