05-12-11 ‘The Royal Mumness’ Page Two

The Good Parent Guide

What Makes A Home A Home?

The Good Parent GuideI live 400 miles away (if you read my blog this sentence features a lot!) from where I was brought up and although I am starting to see S (a small town South of Glasgow) as home, I still feel more at home in London, Brighton and Cornwall. So it has got me thinking about what makes a home a home?

1.Childhood

I spent many of my childhood years in the suburbs of London. When I go back to visit my parents I do not miss the place and have no intention of living there again, but my parents house feels like home, I feel:
■Safe
■Secure
■Amongst happy memories
■In somewhere familiar

In Brighton and Cornwall I do not have a building that I call home but as I walk around these places I feel at home. In fact as I write this I feel choked at the feelings I have for these places.

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Bibsey – blogging about life after birth

Legs Akimbo in the Spanish Outback

Bibsey - blogging about life after birthEvery too often there comes a time in a woman’s life when she has to lie back and ‘juuust relax’. A couch is provided and children are discouraged. Sounds great doesn’t it? Pas vraiment. Yup, not really at all.

I am talking of course about the least relaxing activity of them all: the pap smear test.
I had that pleasure last week. My first smear in Spain. It is one of those necessary evils in a woman’s world that she just has to grin and bare.

Up the mountain here in Spain it was a right old rigmarole. First of all you cannot just make a call to organise the appointment. You have to see the doctor, who then makes the appointment with the nurse. To the see the doctor you have to go to the consultorio and wait in line. The line in Spain being something that I have yet to fully understand, but have spent much time researching.

This much have learnt:

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bothabunch

All in the name of Teddy

bothabunchMy baby loves her Teddy of that you can be sure! She was given him for her first christmas and she hasn’t let go of him since!

It’s strange how they attach to something of their choice! Even though they get offered so many others they always seem to go for the one you don’t think they will.

This is a very special teddy, it’s her special Grandpa Teddy! I love that she loves the one present her grampa had a hand in choosing. Grampa just turned 81 this year and lives in South Africa so she doesn’t get to see him much but I thinks so sweet that everynight she goes to sleep with a little bit of him in her arms!

Yesterday I accidentally took Teddy to work in the back of my car after dropping her off at play group! I didn’t realise until I got a frantic phone call asking if I knew where he was! I was gutting when I realised, espcially when I was only going to be home at 9:30pm!! Oh man bed time was going to be a challenge!

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Mummyisagadgetgeek

Coughs and sneezles spread diseasels

MummyisagadgetgeekAt least, according to what I remember of watching Thomas the Tank Engine when my little brother was much littler than he is now (about 3′, as opposed to the 5’11” he informs me he now is) they do.

In any case, with the nights drawing in, squidgy leaves upon the ground and grey skies overhead its time for train tracks of a different kind.

That’s right – the twin tracks of snot running down the Wee Man’s face. (TMI? He doesn’t think so, in fact he quite gleefully runs around the house screaming ‘snotface, snotface’ and refusing to let me wipe them off).

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A Hell Of A Woman

Commercial break : 7 secret things

A Hell Of A WomanThe delightful Mrs Slummy Mummy and 1978rebecca have honoured me with an award.

Of course, as is often the nature of these things, there’s a catch. I have to share 7 of my secrets with you. Yes, it’s all starting to sound a bit fairytale isn’t it?!

Here they are:

Secret 1:
Husband says he woke one night to find me crouched over him, hissing and teeth bared, as though I was about to sink my fangs into his neck! He was so freaked out, he nearly punched me. He didn’t though.

Secret 2:
When I was in my teens, I may have written a few love letters to Joey Lawrence of Blossom fame. He never wrote back.

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More Than A Mum Blog

Friday Night Curry Recipes

So, I’ve been wondering what to write all day. What do More Than a Mum readers want to read on a Friday? Then, as I was cooking dinner, it came to me… Friday Night Curry.

If you’re on a budget, the Friday night take away can be the first thing to go and if you want to eat a family meal without having to cook separate things for everyone then the vindaloo is probably out. But if you make your own you can save money and adjust the spicing to family tastes. So here for your delectation are not one, not two, but three of our family favourites all of which have past the husband and/or munchkin taste tests!

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wordplayhouse®

buy less + give well = more creative play

wordplayhouse®Handicrafts for children, treasured fairies, looms, imaginative playthings, natural wood toys—these toys of wonder and joy are part of our home landscape. And if there are going to be toys played with…

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New Mum Online

Opening The Door to the Secret that is PND

I’ve nearly run away so many times, but I can’t run away from myself…

We run from it – sometimes it catches up… on good days we run faster
We hide from it – sometimes it finds us … on good days we allude it
We deny it – sometimes it makes itself known to others despite our best efforts to be “normal”
We refuse to accept it – sometimes it’s our dearest friend as we nurture it like a broken teddy, as we look after ourselves, and our baby

It’s worse when we’re hungry – so we eat
It’s worse when we’re tired – so we sleep and sleep and sleep
It’s worse when we are lonely so we sleepwalk through the crowds having coffee in cafes, trying to silence the pain whilst being the best friend of a total stranger
It’s worse when we are solitary so we go to mass every Sunday
It’s worse when we are silent so we sing at mass, sing like nobody is watching, sing like we are auditioning for X factor, sing like God himself is listening, only to us
It’s worse when we can’t remember who we are, so we do everything to be ourselves on the outside…

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The Bling Buoy

My Imaginary Friends

The Bling BuoyMr. Snuffleupagus: Oh, Bird, this is goodbye. You’re leaving Sesame Street.

Big Bird: Well, I’m not really leaving. I’m just going away.

Mr. Snuffleupagus: Oh.

Big Bird: Besides, as soon as I get to Ocean View, you can come and visit.

Mr. Snuffleupagus: I can?

Big Bird: First thing, ol’ pal. I wouldn’t go if you couldn’t come and visit.
(Sesame Street Presents: Follow that Bird (1985))

For a freakishly oversized, acid yellow-feathered fowl of uncertain gender who randomly bursts into song while riding a unicycle with his imaginary friend, Big Bird really is a likeable dude. Which is probably why his imaginary friend, Mr Snuffleupagus, refers to him as his best friend. I would too.

Since Mr Snuffleupagus first appeared on Sesame Street in 1971 (season 3), all of Big Bird’s “real people” friends tried to convince him that Snuffles was a figment of his imagination and that he should forget about him. He didn’t matter … because he wasn’t real.

Interestingly, the same has sometimes been said of the friends we make in cyberspace over Facebook, Twitter or through blogging networks. They are not “real friends”. They only exist in our heads. So they don’t really count.

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Actually Mummy…

Why I will not be doing it again!

Actually Mummy...Dear Mummy, stop being such a perfectionist! You have blogged every day for 25 days. You do not have to do another 5. Enough is enough! If you are bored your readers are probably bored too. Your writing has suffered, your photo files are a mess, we have been surviving on pizza. Stop it! Love from GG. PS – we would like you to play with us….

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Cheetahs In My Shoes

What’s in a name – and why I’m not really looking forward to Christmas

Cheetahs In My ShoesOne of the reasons I started to blog was because I wanted to make people aware of what living with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, Platelet function defects and everything that comes with them is like. I’ve had an idea for this post brewing for almost as long as I’ve been blogging, so as my penultimate NaBloPoMo post, here goes…

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Ramblings Of A Suburban Mummy

So You Are Turning 30

Well, this is it, the final countdown! Today, I am mostly thinking about the final days of my twenties.

I know 30 isn’t old, I know I’m not old but society and popular culture make such a big deal about turning 30 that surely I should too? After all, in modelling and television 30 is ancient isn’t it?

So what will turning 30 be like? Will I suddenly look older, get grey hair and wrinkles? Will some kind of voodoo magic happen so that my face isn’t the one in the mirror any more? Once you turn 30 there is a section in the Avon catalogue for specialist skincare, as if miraculously at 30 you will need anti-wrinkle creams and potions having never needed them before? Maybe I should start reviewing anti-ageing products right away?

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A matter of choice

First Friends

In the months leading up to our move to Cyprus I spent a lot of time online trying to find out information on all kinds of Cyprus related things and I tried to get an idea of what ‘real life’ would be like when we arrived. Our apartment was due to be ready the same week Leo was due so it was a big thing to be doing with a small baby – arriving in a country where we knew nothing and no-one.

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